"No, thanks to your help, now the Kirigakure tracking units have no idea where Haku and I went. I plan to use this chance to sneak back into the village and verify the information you gave me before."
Zabuza stood his massive blade into the earth beside him, resting and recovering from the stamina he had just burned.
Thanks to Carl's widespread influence in the Land of Waves, and the fact that most of the populace now worked for his caravan or enterprises, any information the Kirigakure pursuers might hope to gather was completely out of reach without Carl's consent.
In truth, ninja information gathering techniques aren't much different from what civilians use. They ask questions, approach locals, and pay informants. Occasionally, scout-class ninja use special tracking jutsu if the target was recently present.
But Zabuza and Haku were veterans in this game—they'd long since erased all traces of their presence.
"Then follow the fleet," Carl said. "Matsukawa's already established a few storefronts in the Land of Water. They'll give you cover if you need to hide."
Zabuza nodded in agreement.
At the moment, Carl didn't need his assistance, and if Zabuza could confirm the information Carl had fed him about Kirigakure's inner workings, it would only reinforce his reasons for joining Carl's hidden organization later.
After a bit more rest, the two made their way back to the orphanage, tucked safely beyond the town's reach.
Inside, Haku—now dressed in a light pink kimono—smiled warmly as he demonstrated a gentle chakra technique to a group of recovering children. His presence was calm, nurturing, and completely at odds with his skill as a killer.
"Honestly," Carl said, watching from the doorway, "I think he's more suited for this than fighting."
Zabuza stared at Haku for a moment, his expression unreadable. After a pause, he muttered, "It's not the right time yet."
Carl didn't press further. Whatever existed between those two, it wasn't for him to interfere with. After giving Matsukawa a short briefing on upcoming operations, he left the Land of Waves in silence.
Three days later, Carl stepped once again through the gates of the Fire Temple, his old training grounds. He wasted no time and went straight to Chiriku, eager to dive into more advanced teachings—the kind only a seasoned monk could offer.
His goal now was to deepen his mastery of the Temple's two secret techniques: Thousand armed murder and Wrathful Vajra. With Zabuza, Carl had refined his combat instincts and tested his limits in battle. But to grow further, he needed Chiriku's instruction in chakra nature transformation, tag crafting, barrier formation, and the deeper structure of jutsu theory.
Chiriku, ever the patient mentor, was one of the few people who gave Carl everything without expecting payment or favors in return. Unlike mercenaries, Chiriku taught from loyalty and vision, not personal gain.
While Carl's sheer skill let him go toe-to-toe with seasoned shinobi, his edge came largely from past-life combat knowledge, five-nature chakra aptitude, and his mysterious task-space ability—not deep theoretical understanding. There was still a long road ahead if he wanted to stand with the best on equal footing.
Luckily, every objective for this trip into the Naruto world had been achieved—and then some. All he had to do now was wait for his return to the Marvel dimension.
Or so he thought.
Just a day before his scheduled return, something unexpected occurred.
"Prince," the young assistant Jinai rushed up the temple steps, panting. "The daimyo sent word. He requests your presence this afternoon. He says it's urgent."
Hearing Jinai's words, Carl froze for a moment. According to the memories instilled in him by the system panel, the daimyo rarely summoned him unless it was for special festivals or formalities.
Carl's current identity wasn't fabricated by the system—it belonged to a real person who once lived in the Naruto world. The memories he received when he entered this realm were thorough, covering every detail of the original Carl's life from childhood to adulthood.
The original Carl, however, had died of illness just before Carl's arrival in this world.
It was also obvious that the Carl seen in those memories didn't look exactly like the Carl who now stood here.
"…Alright, I understand. Let me go speak with Master Chiriku first," Carl said calmly.
He then headed to Chiriku's chambers to explain the situation. When Chiriku heard that Carl had been summoned by the daimyo himself, he didn't dare take it lightly. He immediately urged Carl and Jinai to make preparations without delay.
That afternoon, at precisely three o'clock, Carl—dressed in formal princely robes—entered the grand hall of the daimyo's mansion. He was greeted by the man who, according to this world's identity records, was his uncle.
The daimyo appeared to be in his early fifties. A ceremonial fan rested beside him, decorated with a trio of fire emblems. His features were kind and composed, and he smiled gently as Carl approached.
"Carl," he said, "I've heard you've been training in ninjutsu at the Fire Temple?"
"Yes," Carl replied respectfully. "I've become a student of the temple's abbot, Master Chiriku."
The daimyo nodded approvingly.
"Good. You used to lock yourself away indoors and hardly stepped outside. I'm glad you're now learning ninjutsu and strengthening your body. It's good for your health."
In his memories, Carl recalled how—after the death of his parents—he had withdrawn completely. Rarely speaking, often bedridden. The daimyo had worried he might follow his brother to an early grave.
The Carl family line had never been very large. If Carl died young, too, it would be one more branch broken—and one more regret for a brother already lost.
So the daimyo was sincerely pleased to hear that Carl had finally emerged from isolation and begun to live again.
"Thank you, Uncle," Carl said with a subtle bow, sensing his uncle's sincerity and relaxing slightly.
After some small talk, where the daimyo asked about life at the Fire Temple and how Carl was progressing with ninjutsu, the older man's tone shifted. He cleared his throat and straightened in his seat.
"Carl," he said seriously, "since you've been studying at the Fire Temple, I have a task that I believe is well-suited for you."
"Please, go ahead, Uncle," Carl replied, his voice even, though his thoughts stirred with curiosity.
The daimyo took a slow sip of tea before continuing.
"While you were learning at the temple, Master Chiriku must have mentioned how ninja promotions work, yes?"
Carl nodded. "Yes. According to Master Chiriku, genin must pass the Chūnin Exams to advance. These exams are held twice a year by the allied great nations in rotation. As for promotions beyond that—to special jōnin or elite jōnin—it's based on performance evaluations and mission success rates, decided by senior ninja village leadership."
Although the Fire Temple wasn't a formal shinobi village, Chiriku had taken it upon himself to ensure Carl was well-versed in the common knowledge of the shinobi world.
The daimyo set down his cup, folding his hands in front of him.
"You're mostly correct. But the Chūnin Exams are more than just a test—they're a showcase of national strength. By observing the next generation of ninja from each country, leaders can gauge the overall vitality of a nation's military power."
Carl listened intently, now fully focused.
"In ten days—on the first of July—this year's Chūnin Exams will begin, hosted in Konohagakure. Representatives from the Land of Wind, the Land of Rain, the Land of Grass, the Land of Waterfall, and the Land of Sound will all send genin teams to compete. Their noble houses and dignitaries will also attend to observe."
The daimyo leaned forward slightly.
"This year, I want you to represent the Land of Fire. You'll lead our delegation of nobles to the Chūnin Exams."