Chapter 950 : The Stranger from the Sea

[A/N: Fell asleep last night 😵‍💫 Luckily was almost done.]

Fujin extended his hand towards the unconscious old man once again, this time pulling out his soul. He quickly read his memories directly from his soul before pushing the soul back into his body.

He thought, ‘His soul has the same memories as his brain. Looks like his memories weren't manipulated with a Genjutsu or other means. Unless of course memories from both were modified somehow. The cult has shown evidence of both techniques, though I'm unsure if they're so advanced as to completely fool me…’

Once again, Fujin's investigation had given him no results pointing towards the Jashin cult. Knowing Shiranui's Genjutsu capabilities, Fujin had carefully inspected for signs of the villager being under a Genjutsu, but he failed to find any. His memories were normal too, except for some of the questionable decisions made by his village.

Fujin sighed, his figure fading away as the old man opened his eyes and wondered why he fell asleep during farming. Normally, he'd be alarmed by such an incident. However, he was oddly calm, as if he had taken a nap voluntarily.

Fujin returned into the valley, watching the village from afar and thinking, ‘It might end up being a waste of time, but the peculiar feeling I'm getting is too strong. My curiosity is heavily stirred as well. What are the secrets these ordinary civilians are hiding? Secrets that even someone like me failed to uncover. What is the true face of this village? What exactly is the cult's role in all this?’

He had no answer to any of those questions, only wild speculations with nothing backing them. Fujin decided, ‘If an external investigation won't uncover any secrets, my only option is to enter the village openly in a natural manner and integrate into the village. If the Jashin cult is still active here, it might evoke a response from them.

Even if they don't react, interacting closely might allow me to find some anomalies in these villagers. It could give me some clues about the cult, ensuring all strings haven't been cut off.

However, I'll have to keep my guard up at all times. This village, despite being inhabited by ordinary people, has to be treated as a dangerous enemy territory with Fuinjutsu skills superior to mine. It could be far more riskier than my infiltration mission in the Land of Wind… considering that they may be aware of my presence, unlike Sunagakure who didn't realize it until it was too late.’

Even though the risks were unknown and plentiful, Fujin was confident in his strength and felt it was still at a manageable level. Subconsciously, he hoped it was a trap and looked forward to an intense battle, be it for the thrill of battle, means to boost his strength further or simply to vent his frustrations. He muttered softly, ‘Now then… How do I do it?’

——

A warm afternoon sun bathed the pale sands of the western shore of the island. Four figures lounged near the water’s edge, the soft hiss of the tide lapping at the beach the only sound besides their laughter.

“Akari, you’re cheating again,” a tall boy with unruly brown hair complained, pointing at the smooth, flat shells scattered on the sand.

“I’m not cheating, Itsuki. You just have terrible aim,” Akari shot back with a grin, flicking another shell across the shallows. It skipped twice before plopping under the waves.

A girl sat cross-legged a little further up the beach, combing her long black hair with her fingers. Her green eyes followed her friends idly as she said, “If you both put as much effort into fishing as you do into this, we wouldn’t have gone home empty-handed yesterday.”

“Not everyone wants to smell like fish all day, Sayuri,” Itsuki muttered, earning a playful smack on the arm from her.

The fourth in their group, a broad-shouldered man named Takuma, lay sprawled in the shade of a driftwood log, one arm over his eyes. Unlike the others, who were in their late teens, he was in his forties, here to keep an eye on the youngsters. He mumbled, “Wake me when someone catches lunch.”

Their easy banter was broken by a sudden gust of wind that whipped through the shore, rattling the leaves of the palms behind them. Sayuri frowned and looked up. “That’s… odd.”

Itsuki brushed the hair out of his eyes, scanning the horizon. “The wind’s picking up fast.”

Another gust roared across the beach, lifting sand in swirling eddies. Waves began to form — large, uneven, and far rougher than any of them had ever seen in their lifetime!

“Uh… is this normal?” Akari asked, her grin replaced with a worried look.

“No,” Takuma said, already on his feet. “Get into the trees. Now!”

The wind became a howl, bending the tops of the palms inland. Salt spray lashed their faces as they stumbled toward the treeline. Sayuri shielded her eyes and shouted over the roar, “Hurry!”

They reached the shelter of the first row of trees, hearts pounding. From there, they looked back and froze.

Out on the water, a lone boat pitched violently, its small sail snapping and tearing in the gale. The craft — no more than ten meters long — was the kind used for coastal trade runs, not for open-sea storms.

“Someone’s out there!” Itsuki shouted.

The boat rose on a cresting wave before being slammed sideways. The mast cracked with a sharp report, and a second wave hurled the vessel toward the shallows. It struck the sand with a grinding crash, breaking apart under the relentless assault of water and wind.

The four stood in stunned silence, exchanging wide-eyed glances.

“What do we do?” Akari asked, her voice tight.

“We… wait,” Takuma said reluctantly. “It’s too dangerous to go out now.”

So they waited, clinging to the trunks for balance, watching as the storm raged. Minutes crawled by until, just as suddenly as it began, the typhoon’s fury ebbed. The winds slowed, the waves softened, and the only sound left was the distant hiss of water retreating through the wreckage.

Takuma was the first to move, “Come on.”

Picking their way over splintered planks and torn rope, they searched for signs of life. Sayuri’s sharp eyes caught a figure tangled among the debris — a boy about their age, soaked through, lying unconscious. His long, disheveled hair clung in dark strands to his face and neck, the tattered remains of a light travel tunic and loose seafaring trousers plastered to his skin. Despite his lean frame, the lines of well-defined muscle along his arms and shoulders spoke of someone accustomed to constant movement and strength-demanding work.

Sayuri knelt beside him, brushing wet hair from his pale face. “He’s breathing,” she said, relief in her voice.

The others gathered close. Itsuki was about to suggest carrying him inland when the boy’s eyes snapped open suddenly, before narrowing as if against a harsh light. His breath came in slow, steady pulls, his body still shivering, though unknown if from coldness or the fear from the calamity he just experienced.

He tried pushing himself up on one shoulder, struggling to do so as his gaze swept over the four faces hovering above him. He asked, his voice hoarse, low and shaking, “Where am I? Who are you people…?”

Before they could answer, his hand moved towards his forehead, which had visible swelling and muttered, “Actually… Who am I?”

The four exchanged startled looks. His words had left them speechless. Though they had heard of it, it was the first time they saw someone experiencing memory loss. Worse, they knew nothing about the guy. Akari asked in surprise, “You… you don't remember your name?”

The boy didn't answer, his hand still on his forehead as if he was experiencing nightmarish headaches. Takuma suggested, “You're likely disoriented due to the accident. Let's calm you down first. Itsuki, help me move him in the shade.”

Takuma and Itsuki quickly helped the boy move near the tree shade and checked for further injuries while the girls followed them. Luckily, despite the horrifying storm, the boy wasn't seriously injured. Though he looked feeble and had several cuts and swelling throughout his body, none were fatal.

As his eyes fell on the wreckage of his boat, a sigh escaped the boy's lips. He muttered, “Thank you… I remember now. It's a pity…”

The four immediately saw the sorrow in his eyes. It was apparent that it went far beyond his destroyed boat. To ease the awkwardness, Itsuki introduced himself, “I'm Itsuki. What about you?”

Before he could answer, Akari said, “Akari here.”

Without taking his eyes off the wreckage, the boy answered, “I'm Naoki…”