Naruto: How to Be an Undercover Shinobi

Amegakure, Land of Rain.

The once towering buildings had long since crumbled. Everywhere the eye landed, there were only broken walls and scattered debris.

At the center of the village, the rain continued to fall in a constant drizzle.

Hanzō of the Salamander sat with seventy or eighty of his subordinates in the ruins of what was once Amegakure's central tower. They huddled beneath what remained of the second-floor flooring, using it as shelter from the rain.

In the open yard, a blackened, filthy pot rested atop damp firewood, barely holding a flame.

Inside, fish caught using Water Release bobbed in the murky water.

There were no spices—only the overwhelming stench of raw fish.

Like kids born in Los Angeles struggling to use a Chicago-style typewriter, these ninjas—skilled in ninjutsu but clueless about daily survival—were hopeless at cooking.

As a result, even the mighty Lord Hanzō had to suffer alongside them, drinking the so-called "delicious" fish soup.

Hanzō had money. Lots of it.

But it was worthless.

Once, he sent a trusted aide to the Land of Fire to buy supplies. That "trusted aide" took the money and vanished without a trace.

Another time, Hanzō went himself with a few men and managed to return with some goods—only to find the camp had been the site of a violent clash.

Turned out the loyalists who still believed in him had gotten into a fight with those trying to leave. There were casualties on both sides, and the deserters still managed to escape.

In his humiliation, Hanzō had even issued bounties on the escapees.

The Land of Rain had completely collapsed.

Not a single merchant passed through anymore—not even stray dogs would linger in this downpour-soaked ruin.

Gazing into the pot at the bobbing, lifeless fish heads, Hanzō fell deep into thought.

He couldn't shake the feeling that a shadowy hand was manipulating everything that had happened to the Land of Rain.

But when had it all started?

After pondering for a long time, he recalled the beginning of all the misfortunes.

A vile thief had stolen sensitive intel from Amegakure and sold it to the great nations, causing devastating losses to their network of spies.

Over the next few years, Hanzō poured everything into rebuilding Amegakure's strength, and their overall power even surpassed that of Takigakure, despite being separated by the Land of Grass.

Back then, he had even considered stealing the Tailed Beast from Takigakure.

In the end, he failed to capture the Seven-Tails. Worse, the Four-Tails suddenly showed up on the battlefield in the Land of Grass.

Its timing was too convenient.

Still, Hanzō hadn't thought much of it at the time. He figured if he could capture the Four-Tails, it would be a win—whether he kept it or sold it.

But then the Third Raikage appeared.

And the one kind of opponent Hanzō feared most was exactly that—a tank with overwhelming single-point explosive power.

He had strong Water Release skills, was proficient in Fire Release, his summoning beasts were formidable, and even his Taijutsu wasn't bad.

But when faced with someone that fast—someone who only wanted to get up close and beat you to a pulp—he was helpless.

Poison? Useless. If it even worked in the first place.

So he decisively abandoned the battlefield, which inadvertently gave Takigakure a chance to recover.

Later came the "Raw Iron Heist," draining his war chest dry.

Then, without warning, the ever-obedient Daimyō of the Land of Rain suddenly abdicated without so much as a word to him.

That's when the real nightmare began.

Just as Hanzō was racking his brain trying to figure out who was behind all this, Kandachi returned, covered in dust and dirt, with two battered guards in tow.

After listening to Kandachi's overly dramatic account, the frustration Hanzō had been bottling up finally exploded.

"Those damn beasts! It's bad enough they plundered our commoners during the war—but now they won't even give them back?

Fine! If that's how they want to play it, then no one gets them!"

Hanzō of the Salamander shot to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes.

"Everyone, with me! We're going to slaughter those treacherous peasants and those filthy Sunagakure ninjas!"

In an instant, the long-restrained rage of the gathered shinobi erupted.

"Yeah! Kill those peasants! Let's see how they like refusing to build our houses and withholding our rations!"

"Kill! Kill! Kill! Those Sunagakure bastards who looted us during the chaos—every last one of them deserves to die!"

"Kill all the men and the old! Sell the women off to the Land of Hot Water!"

Their roars didn't even sound human anymore.

Just then, a lazy voice strangely cut through the clamor and echoed in everyone's ears.

"Yo~ Heading out for a picnic, Hanzō-sama?"

The moment they heard it, the furious mob turned and looked toward the voice, their bloodshot eyes locked on the source.

Not far away, on the edge of a half-collapsed wall, sat a man in a black short-sleeved shirt and black pants.

His legs dangled freely, and he was casually trimming his nails with a kunai, sparks flying as he worked.

Through the curtain of rain, Hanzō of the Salamander's eyes went wide. In his mind, a face he hadn't seen in ten years suddenly surfaced—young, familiar.

"Shukang Hei..."

Reiji scratched his rain-soaked scalp with an exasperated look.

What a familiar name.

More than ten years had passed.

"Actually, Hanzō-sama, my name is Reiji Sakuhō, not Shukang Hei."

Hearing that, Hanzō's brows furrowed slightly. A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes.

Reiji Sakuhō?

The name rang a bell. Where had he heard it?

Seeing his uncertainty, Reiji let out a quiet sigh and muttered to himself,

"Mizukuma, you see this?

Even the Hanzō-sama you once worshipped like a god doesn't remember your surname.

Of course, Hanzō-sama must be a very busy man...

Or maybe... he never cared about small fry like you at all."

He chuckled bitterly to himself, tossed away the kunai, and clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention.

"All right, enough with the riddles. My name is Reiji Sakuhō. I used to go by Shuku Kohei, Raimei, and even Dan Shimura.

Now I'm the Daimyō of the Land of Rain and a Jōnin of Konoha.

Well, Hanzō-sama, does that ring any bells?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Kandachi's horrified voice rang out.

"What?! You're the Daimyō of the Land of Rain?! What right do you have to be Daimyō?!

You're just some homeless brat! A useless piece of trash with no chakra nature!"

Before he could finish his sneering rant, Reiji's brows furrowed, and he said coldly,

"Enough talk. Let's get this over with."

In the next instant, blue lightning and chakra erupted in unison.

Lightning Release Chakra Mode and the Seventh Gate of the Eight Inner Gates—the Gate of Wonder—activated at once.

Before anyone could react, Reiji had already returned to his perch on the broken wall, holding a man up with one hand.

The crowd was stunned, trembling in fear.

What—?!

He was so fast they couldn't even see his shadow!

No—maybe it wasn't just speed. Maybe he'd mastered some strange, terrifying ninjutsu.

In the middle of the crowd, a bead of cold sweat slid down Hanzō of the Salamander's temple and vanished into the rain.

He hadn't seen it, but he'd felt it.

That kid moved too fast—not only had he snatched Kandachi right from beside him, he'd even grazed him in the process.

Right now, all he wanted was to turn and run.

That kid... was terrifying.