97. What a coincidence—you’re undercover too.

Ghostlight City hid a massive secret. No one could have guessed that the Grass Ninja Village built a prison here for one hidden purpose: to extract prisoners’ chakra and use it to open the ancient Box of Bliss.

The list of victims Wuwei had meticulously selected was mostly made up of jōnin from all the ninja villages, and it even included Yekura of Scorching Style, the Sand Village’s prodigious kunoichi.

Ganqi Ghost Shark was the only chūnin on the list, because according to intelligence held by the Grass Ninja Village, he had taken first place in the chūnin exam held in the Leaf Village months earlier; his chakra reserves were enormous, rivaling those of many jōnin.

And the day Ganqi Ghost Shark had entered prison had also left a deep impression on Wuwei.

Alas, in this prison, once Wuwei singled out a prisoner, death was never far away.

Unaware of it, the men of the Grass-Root circle did not notice that an unseen rogue thief lay hidden up on the room’s rafters, eavesdropping.

It was Scar-Face, using invisibility.

“The Box of Bliss is in Ghostlight City Prison, after all. To open it, it turns out, you need to drain chakra from so many people—so those rumors were true. These fools who know not their own limits even dared to mention Lord Hanzō; a mere Wuwei presumes he can stand shoulder to shoulder with a half-god. A ridiculous joke beyond measure. The Box of Bliss will surely end up in the hands of the Rain Ninja Village, helping Lord Hanzō unite the shinobi world.”

Scar-Face thought this to himself as he listened.

While these people were gathered for a meeting, he quietly slipped away, planning to check out Wuwei’s office. But what he had never considered was the old saying: just as the mantis stalks the cicada, there is always a hawk behind.

Ganqi Ghost Shark had followed Scar-Face all along and, even through the wall, overheard Wuwei’s men.

“Let’s watch a little entertainment.” He whispered, formed a seal, and detonated the explosive-charge chakra hidden in Scar-Face’s shoe sole.

A flash of dazzling fire lit the beam overhead, and blood sprayed through the room with Scar-Face’s agonized cry. The moment he was wounded, his invisibility broke.

“Who’s there?” the members of the meeting cried, looking up.

The high-level meeting about the Box of Bliss in the Grass Village had been overheard.

Swoosh. They needed no command from Wuwei. Several senior Grass officials wearing cow-and-horse masks sprang onto the beam and descended on Scar-Face.

Damn it—what was happening? Scar-Face raged inwardly, desperately trying to break free, but wounded as he was, he had more will than strength.

“Bind!”

One of them used a restraining art, freezing Scar-Face in place as if he were a statue, and then, with a thud, he was hurled off the beam.

“Wuwei, who is this man? Is he also a prisoner of this jail? Why doesn’t he bear the mark of the Flaming-Prison Technique?”

The others asked Wuwei.

Wuwei crouched and examined Scar-Face, his brows gradually tightening. As warden of a prison with thousands of inmates, his memory was excellent—near photographic. With Scar-Face’s obvious facial features, Wuwei recognized him at once: he was a Rain Village prisoner who had arrived at Ghostlight City only days ago.

Bad.

A dangerous thought flashed through Wuwei’s mind, and his expression changed.

“What is it?” the others pressed him.

“It’s very likely this man is a mole sent by the Rain Village,” Wuwei said slowly, drawing a deep breath. “I fear we have fallen under the gaze of that half-god of the shinobi world.”

“What?!”

All at once the room went tense. The Grass Ninja Village and the Rain Ninja Village were neighboring states, close enough to touch. For years, the Grass leadership had guarded the secret of the Box of Bliss with care, yet they had always lived in fear that the fierce neighboring village coveted it.

The worst thing they had feared had come true.

Even Ganqi Ghost Shark, hidden in the dark, could not help but show surprise. At that moment he wanted to say to Scar-Face, as if by coincidence: so, you are a mole too.

Even more startling was the fact that Scar-Face seemed to have come for the Box of Bliss as well—on orders, apparently, from that same half-god, Hanzō of the Pepperfish.

Now it became interesting.

In the meeting hall, the Grass upper ranks flustered into confusion. The name Hanzō carried such weight that even the memory of it cast a long shadow.

“So, are you here on Hanzō’s orders? Confess everything!” one senior official grabbed Scar-Face’s collar and shouted.

“Hmph.”

Scar-Face gave a cold sneer, his eyes mocking. Not a word. With the mission failed, he had clearly prepared to die.

“What do we do now?”

“Panic is useless,” Wuwei said, his voice calm and hard. “If Hanzō truly had such strength, he would have come himself already. Why use a covert trick and send a spy skulking in? Do not forget this is our ground. Whoever covets the Box of Bliss, no matter who they are, will pay the cruelest price.”

With Wuwei’s steadiness, the others of the Grass circle gradually recovered their composure.

The next question was how to deal with this infiltrator.

“Don’t waste time on interrogation; this man will reveal nothing. But since he came for the Box of Bliss, let us grant him one last mercy. We’ll take him to see it before he dies.”

Wuwei looked down at Scar-Face with a playful smile. A dark chuckle rose from the others in agreement.

The group hauled Scar-Face out of the meeting room and went straight to Wuwei’s office. Ganqi Ghost Shark followed silently behind.

They crossed a long corridor and reached the destination.
A low groan came from the hinges as Wuwei pushed open the office door. Inside stood a row of enormous shelves. He walked straight to the center shelf, picked out the third blue volume from the left, and jerked it outward.

There was a thunderous rumble. A mechanism engaged, the bookshelves slowly parted apart, and a hidden door appeared before them. Wuwei and the others entered in single file.

Beyond it, a staircase wound downward for an unknowable distance, its end seeming to vanish into a dark abyss. It unsettled and frightened everyone.

Scarfaced was pressed down onto the operating table in the center of the vast laboratory at the foot of the stairs. On either side stood all manner of torture implements, instruments, and bottles.

Clearly, this was where Wuwei’s men tortured prisoners.

A heavy thud. Scar-Face was strapped down on the table.

Then Wuwei took up a syringe and injected a drug into his vein. Scar-Face’s body went instantly numb; he could not move even a single finger.

“Looking for the Box of Bliss, are you not? It is right before your eyes.”

Wuwei smiled at Scar-Face’s terrified face.

Scar-Face looked forward and saw, opposite the table, a door over six meters high. Carved into it was a vividly lifelike human face, its expression filled with a sorrow so hard to name.

The Box of Bliss… was it really behind this door?

Yet what Wuwei said next made Scar-Face’s eyes shoot wide with disbelief.