Chapter 79: Intelligence Work

A hand emerged from the earth inside Amegakure, followed by a figure wearing the same rain cloak as the village's residents. 

Tonbo remained beneath an overhang. He had transformed into an ordinary traveler and crossed the final distance underground with Hiding Like a Mole, navigating entirely through perception. Not a drop of rain had touched him. 

When the street cleared, he slipped through the service entrance of a tavern. 

The interior differed little from similar establishments in Konoha. Wet cloaks hung near the door, warm food fought the chill, and off-duty shinobi gathered around low tables to exchange stories. 

"The creature was as tall as a building," one Ame shinobi declared. "A thousand rain needles brought it down. The villagers offered so many gifts that I barely escaped before they arranged my marriage." 

His companions jeered. 

"What creatures remain? Lady Angel and Lord Messenger eliminated the worst of them." 

"Some always escape. The village's jōnin struggled with those infestations for years." 

"Everything has improved since God and Lady Angel took command. Serving them is an honor." 

Tonbo listened over a cup of warm sake. The titles almost certainly referred to Pain and Konan, but reverence replaced detail whenever the patrons mentioned them. No one discussed where the leaders lived, how they governed, or what abilities they possessed. 

The silence did not appear forced. These shinobi genuinely regarded their rulers as distant sacred protectors, beyond the reach of ordinary gossip. 

Tonbo guided the conversation with harmless questions about roads, work, and recent patrols. The shinobi answered readily until a subject approached the central tower or the village leadership. Then they offered praise, changed topics, or admitted that such matters belonged above their rank. The pattern suggested compartmentalization reinforced by devotion rather than simple fear. 

Tonbo's attention passed over a small folded-paper ornament hanging from the tavern ceiling. He did not look twice. In a village associated with Konan, any paper object might be decoration—or surveillance. 

Infiltration was possible. Reaching useful information was the real barrier. 

Beneath the village, the other three squad members waited inside Tonbo's concealment formation. Fifteen days had passed since they entered the Land of Rain. Their continued safety supported his conclusion that the rainfall served as the primary detection network and that earth plus the barrier could evade it. 

Togekei watched the Root operatives while sustaining one section of the seal. Tonbo had privately ordered him to prevent either man from acting independently. 

"The captain appears to have entered successfully," Iwao said. 

He and Murakumo exchanged a brief glance. 

"Do not move without orders," Togekei warned. "Discovery would compromise the mission and expose Sensei." 

Murakumo offered a thin smile. "Our objective is the same as yours. We will not interfere, but a support team must remain ready to act." 

While he held Togekei's gaze, several tiny black mice slipped from beneath his cloak and vanished into the tunnel behind them. Iwao shifted his weight at the same moment, adding a second distraction. 

Togekei saw neither movement directly. 

The Root agents returned to perfect stillness. They had studied Tonbo's range during the journey and waited until he traveled far enough away to make their move. In their judgment, his former student remained too inexperienced to recognize what had happened. 

The mice carried almost no visible chakra. Murakumo's tracking specialty included breeding and conditioning small animals that could follow scent, explore confined spaces, and return without the signature of a summoned creature. They moved back toward the surface route, searching independently for whatever Danzō had ordered them to locate. 

Togekei continued feeding chakra into the barrier. Beneath the edge of his flak jacket, his left fingers found the transmit key of the compact radio Tonbo had issued before the mission and pressed it in a measured pattern. 

He had not seen a weapon, technique, or signal. He had seen Murakumo alter his behavior to seize attention while Iwao moved without purpose. Tonbo's lessons had taught him that unexplained coordination from a suspected traitor was evidence in itself. When direct observation failed, he should alert a trusted teammate and prepare for the worst without revealing suspicion. 

The bursts encoded a warning without carrying a voice the Root agents might overhear. Whether the signal could reach Tonbo through Amegakure's stone and rain was uncertain, but Togekei would not depend upon luck. 

In a narrow passage elsewhere in Amegakure, Tonbo removed his hand from an unconscious shinobi's head. 

He formed seals and touched two fingers to the man's brow. Tiny formulae spread beneath the skin and sealed every memory connected to the interrogation. Tonbo then sank through the floor and disappeared. 

The Ame shinobi woke minutes later. He looked around the empty passage in confusion. 

"How did I get here?" 

His last clear memory placed him in the tavern. Assuming he had drunk too much, he found his direction and walked home through the rain. 

Tonbo returned to a small underground chamber shaped with Earth Release and organized what he had learned. 

Psycho Mind Transmission could not simply empty a trained shinobi's mind. The target's body, chakra, conditioning, and mental resistance created gaps. Tonbo therefore combined methods. He first used controlled interrogation to identify relevant subjects, then searched the mind to confirm, expand, or contradict each answer. Finally, he sealed memories of himself and released the target where an ordinary explanation could account for the lost time. 

Over several days, he selected Ame shinobi whose duties placed them near patrols, communications, or village administration. No single target knew enough. Together, their memories revealed patterns. 

Tonbo limited every operation to avoid creating a trail. He never selected two targets from the same unit, never revisited a location, and allowed ordinary routines to determine where each shinobi regained consciousness. Between interrogations, he listened in markets and taverns, examined public notices, and mapped patrol changes. Mundane details provided the framework against which stolen memories could be tested. 

The rain did not identify allegiance by reading thoughts. It detected unfamiliar chakra appearing within an area whose ordinary population Nagato had observed over time. A resident moving through the streets blended into an established pattern. A foreign shinobi crossing the border introduced a signature with no history. 

That distinction offered possible future routes. A sufficiently gradual introduction of chakra, a perfect substitution for an established signature, or movement entirely outside the rainfall might bypass the warning. Each option involved serious technical difficulties, but understanding the principle transformed an invisible danger into a problem that could be studied. 

Tonbo compared patrol responses with rainfall, travel records, and the memories of questioned shinobi. The model explained why underground movement succeeded: the squad had never entered the sensory medium. It also explained why disguises failed earlier teams. Clothing could deceive guards, but not a field that recognized chakra. 

He estimated the conclusion at ninety percent confidence. 

Ten percent remained because incomplete intelligence killed people. Tonbo had a wife, twins, and an aging father waiting in Konoha. He would treat the unproven portion as a threat until evidence eliminated it. 

A faint sequence of taps clicked through the compact radio in Tonbo's ear—a rhythm rather than a voice. 

Tonbo had taught Togekei a compact emergency code for situations in which speech was unsafe. Three short pulses, a pause, then two longer ones meant suspected unauthorized action. Repetition meant the situation remained unresolved. 

Togekei's warning. 

Tonbo went still and listened to the pattern repeat. 

The Root operatives had begun their own mission. 

He began moving at once.