Kazuki exchanged a glance with Kakashi.
The reason Kitsune had slowed down was obvious: ahead of them, a girl lay curled up on the ground, clutching something tightly while several people circled around, kicking her mercilessly.
The force of the blows was brutal—Kazuki could hear the dull thuds from where he stood.
"You filthy stray! You actually dared to steal the bread I was going to throw out? That crap was never meant for the likes of you!" a sharp female voice screeched.
The girl didn't speak. She just gritted her teeth, huddled in on herself, shielding the food in her arms.
Just as a burly man raised his foot to stomp on her head, his motion froze—Kazuki's hand pressed down hard on his skull.
The man's eyes widened in horror as he met the masked gaze of Nara Kazuki. He could feel the pressure like a vice on his skull, like it might crack open at any moment.
Another thug, who had reached for a blade, now had a kunai pressed firmly between his eyes—Kakashi's hand steady, silent.
He was the fastest of them all. Without hesitation, he launched a swift taijutsu kick straight into the screeching woman, sending her flying. Then, he stooped and gently helped the girl to her feet.
"Who the hell are you?!" the woman shrieked from the ground, panic flooding her voice. Kazuki winced and rubbed his ear.
Kitsune must've held back. Otherwise, she'd already be in a body bag.
A nearby thug paled and leaned in to whisper frantically in the woman's ear. Her expression soured but she fell silent.
People like them were far beyond anything the rich or powerful of the capital could deal with.
She didn't want trouble. Especially not the kind that could bring ruin to her household.
So she turned and left, not sparing a single glance toward the two thugs still held by Kazuki and Kakashi.
She was a clever one.
Even if she didn't know exactly what these three ninja wanted, she could guess that leaving behind a few scapegoats would keep the wrath off her doorstep.
As for the two loyal muscleheads?
Well, thugs were a dime a dozen in the slums. Toss in a bone and ten dogs would scramble for it.
She had bones to spare.
"I—I want to be a good man..." one thug whimpered, voice trembling, the stench of urine rising from his soaked pants.
Kazuki blinked. That line was... strangely familiar. Almost sounded like something a reincarnator would say.
"Sorry, I'm a cop," Kazuki muttered under his breath.
The man collapsed, limp and silent.
Kakashi was more efficient. His opponent had a burnt, cauterized hole in his throat—perfectly clean. He'd used Lightning Release to sear through flesh and seal it in one move.
"Oho~ nice touch," Kazuki remarked. "Using Raiton to cauterize the wound?"
Kakashi didn't respond, but the way his eye gleamed showed he was a little proud.
Kazuki chuckled. This Kakashi wasn't the future, brooding one yet.
Meanwhile, Kitsune had soothed the girl, then walked off without another word—ignoring the thugs and the arrogant woman entirely.
Kazuki watched his squad leader's back.
Kazuki smiled faintly.
A man whose blood still boiled could still be useful. Still be moved.
If you wanted to change this world, you'd need more than brute force.
You needed influence.
History had taught him that order came from cultural unification, linguistic unity, the erasure of old kingdoms... and time. Time for people to forget who they were and accept who they now were.
But that was surface-level.
In truth, the real fault line in this world wasn't village versus village—it was ordinary people versus shinobi.
The divide was biological, almost species-level.
How could the powerless and the powerful ever truly coexist?
Even genin who had mastered just the Three Basic Jutsu were gods among men to ordinary villagers. Let alone monsters like Uchiha Madara.
People like him didn't view peasants as equals. They were insects, at best.
Sure, you had outliers. Rare saints like the Man of Steel.
But in most worlds, the "superpowered" trended closer to warlords than heroes.
And as long as that chasm remained—between civilian and shinobi—true peace would never exist.
You could enforce laws, sure. You could punish rogue ninja harshly.
But deep down? The arrogance remained.
Kazuki glanced at Kitsune again.
This man... might be worth keeping around.
When they returned to Konoha, Kitsune went to file his report.
Another well-earned leave of absence.
No telling how long it'd last, but a break was a break. Kazuki used his time to visit the Konoha Ninja Academy.
Right now, it wasn't exactly bustling.
The Third Shinobi World War had only just ended. Most of the previous generation had been pushed into early graduation and battlefields.
But peace was returning. Slowly, new kids were trickling in—learning under instructors who'd barely left the front lines themselves.
"Where the Will of Fire is passed... the flames shall never die."
The voice was old and raspy.
Kazuki turned and saw the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, approaching with his ever-present pipe.
"Lord Hokage," Kazuki stood quickly.
He wasn't in his ANBU gear today, and he'd been too focused on watching the next generation to notice Hiruzen arriving.
Kazuki was irritated with himself. He needed to learn some detection techniques. He couldn't keep letting people sneak up on him .
This was how teammates got wiped in real missions.
"I'm no longer Hokage, just an old man," Hiruzen chuckled.
Kazuki smiled politely. Internally?
The moment he'd called him "Hokage," Kazuki noticed those deep-set wrinkles almost smooth out.
This old man still hadn't let go of that authority. Not even close.