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"Normal Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
[Year X786]
~ With Shisui, a few days later ~
The Crocus Mission Hall stood in stark contrast to the Hokage's Tower where shinobi once received their assignments. Instead of the serious, almost temple-like atmosphere of mission distribution in Konoha, this three-story building bustled with casual energy.
Mages of various ages and styles wandered about the open main floor, examining the large request boards that dominated the center of the space. Some gathered in small groups, comparing notes on potential jobs, while others approached the long counter where staff members would process paperwork, while Shisui observed from just inside the entrance.
None appeared particularly powerful by the standards Shisui had come to recognize—no one here likely approached even low B-rank in capability.
He moved toward one of the less crowded request boards, noticing that the requests were organized by category rather than difficulty—transportation, item retrieval, creature control, protection services, performance magic. Each paper included compensation details, location, and basic requirements.
"First time here?"
Shisui turned to find a mission hall staff member watching him with professional interest. The woman—early thirties, no visible magic items, callused hands suggesting practical experience—offered a polite but not overly friendly smile.
"That obvious?" Shisui responded with a self-deprecating smile, adopting the slightly uncertain demeanor of someone new to a system.
"You have that lost look," she remarked. "Most independents head straight for their preferred board section. You were scanning everything like you were not sure where to start."
Her observation skills were better than he expected from civilian staff. A mental adjustment—be more careful with this one.
"I'm new to taking official missions," he admitted, which was technically true. "Usually I just handle whatever work comes my way directly."
The staff member nodded. "Standard procedure is simple. You select a request, bring it to the counter for processing, and we record your acceptance. Upon completion, the client submits confirmation, and you receive payment from the client and return with the confirmation form. Afterwards we will collect our small administration fee from the reward you were given."
She gestured toward a wall of text near the main counter—legal disclaimers in small print. "The critical part for independents to understand is that you accept all responsibility for what happens during mission execution. Unlike guild mages, you have no organization backing you."
"What kind of responsibility?" Shisui asked, though he suspected the answer.
"Everything," she stated flatly. "Mission Hall provides no insurance, magical or otherwise. If you get injured, that's your problem. If you damage property during completion, that's your debt to settle. If the request turned out to be a trap set by dark mages looking for isolated targets, that is also your funeral."
Shisui's eyebrows raised slightly at the blunt assessment. "That seems... risky."
"That's why the serious jobs go to guilds," she explained. "They have internal support systems, team structures, and legal protections through their charter with the Magic Council. Independent mages get the overflow—jobs too small for guild attention but too specialized for regular people."
The candor was refreshing after months of piecing together information from fragmented sources. Shisui glanced back at the mission board with new understanding. The absence of bandit elimination or dark guild suppression missions made perfect sense now—those would require institutional support that independent mages lacked.
"So these are all relatively safe assignments?" he asked.
The woman made a so-so gesture with her hand. "Lower risk, generally. The magical creature hunts can get dangerous depending on the beast, but clients usually underestimate rather than overestimate threat levels. Their coin's on the line, after all."
Shisui nodded, processing this information against the detailed mission classification system of his former world. In Konoha, every mission was carefully vetted, assigned a precise rank, and matched to shinobi of appropriate skill level. Even D-rank missions came with basic protections—if things went catastrophically wrong, backup would be dispatched. The village took responsibility for its operatives.
This system seemed almost recklessly individualistic by comparison. Yet it made sense for a world where magic was commonplace but formal organization being optional. The freedom came with corresponding vulnerability—a trade-off that would be unthinkable in the militarized shinobi nations.
"I understand," he told the staff member. "Thank you for the explanation."
"Just doing my job," she replied, "Take your time with the boards. First-timers usually start with something straightforward to learn the process."
As the staff member returned to her duties, Shisui lingered by the board, absorbing the implications of what he'd just learned. The system was crude compared to Konoha's, yet there was clarity in its simplicity—take a job, complete it, get paid. No hidden agendas. No chain of command. Just choices. He allowed himself a moment to breathe, then turned back to the request flyers with renewed focus. If he was to understand this world's magic, he would have to engage with it on its own terms.
Each flyer told a story beyond its printed text—the hastily scrawled request for carriage escort suggested an urgent but low-risk journey; the neatly typed notice seeking a mage to create controlled flame for glassblowing indicated a craftsman with specific technical needs. Reading between the lines was second nature to someone trained to gather intelligence from the smallest details. As he scanned the available missions, Shisui mentally categorized them by their potential for testing his abilities against magical phenomena.
The mundane requests dominated the board. A merchant needing protective wards placed on a shipment of luxury goods. A farmer requesting weather prediction magic for the upcoming harvest. A noble family seeking an illusionist for their child's birthday celebration. Each mission offered modest compensation and minimal risk—perfect for novice mages building their reputation or experienced ones seeking easy income between more challenging work.
His attention shifted to the creature control section, smaller but promising more action. The creature control section might not provide exactly the type of encounter he was looking for—combat against mages—but a controlled environment to test his abilities against this world native creature without risking exposure to more observant human mages seemed like a good alternative.
Most of the requests involve magical pests—swarms of minor creatures causing nuisance rather than danger. But three postings stood out as potentially combat-oriented.
The first described a troublesome forest Vulcan disturbing a privately owned vineyard outside Crocus. The second involved unusually aquatic predators in a lake that supplied drinking water to a small town. The third requested investigation of strange noises from abandoned mine shafts, with no specific creature identified.
Shisui studied the Vulcan notice more closely. His shadow clones had gathered basic information about these creatures—large, ape-like creatures that were physically powerful but not particularly intelligent. They present a genuine combat challenge without being overwhelmingly dangerous, if they could even be called dangerous at all to someone of his abilities, making them ideal for his first test with the limitations imposed on him.
Still, the feeling of disappointment was evident in settling for creature combat rather than matching his skills against actual mages. Dark guild suppression missions would have provided far more valuable data on how chakra techniques could interact with trained magic users. But he also understood the system's limitations—sending independent mages against organized criminal mages would be irresponsible at best, suicidal at worst.
"Patience," he reminded himself. Starting small did not mean staying small.
With his decision made, Shisui removed the Vulcan notice from the board and approached the counter. The staff member from earlier processed his paperwork with efficient movements, explaining the location in greater detail as she worked.
"Rosehill Vineyard is about a days' walk northeast of the city," she said, stamping the mission acceptance form. "Family-owned operation, been there for generations. The Vulcan started causing trouble about two weeks ago, damaging the vines and stealing harvested grapes. Only one was reported, according to the owner, though there could be more hiding in the nearby forest."
Shisui nodded, memorizing the details. "Any previous attempts to remove them?"
"The family tried hiring regular hunters first," she explained, "but those who came back reported the creature was too strong for them. That's when they upgraded to a magical request."
Interesting. This likely meant that this particular Vulcan was different from most other Vulcans.
The staff member handed him the stamped form and a small token with the Mission Hall's insignia. "Show this to the client on arrival. Payment will be released when they confirm successful completion. Good luck."
Shisui pocketed both items with a nod of thanks. Outside the hall, he consulted a public map of the surrounding countryside, locating Rosehill Vineyard's approximate position. He could reach the vineyard by nightfall if he departed immediately and at a moderate speed. But first, he needed to gather some supplies.
As Shisui moved through the crowded streets of Crocus toward the market district, he felt a familiar pre-mission focus settling over him. The parameters were clear, the objective defined, the execution straightforward. There was comfort in this structure after months of open-ended research and training.
Yet beneath this familiar mindset ran a current of something new—a sense of choice absent from his previous life. No Hokage assigned this mission, no clan expectations shaped his approach. The mission was his because he selected it, the risks accepted on his terms alone.
Perhaps this was part of what the being had wanted for him—making choices based on his own judgment rather than orders or duty.
A small step, but significant for someone like himself.
~ End of Chapter 09 ~
Some boring chapters, but necessary to move the plot along. An important character makes an appearance in the next mini-arc!