The road carried him beyond the city gates as dusk painted the sky in shades of bruised plum and fading gold. The shinobi walked without hurry, his dark figure cutting a solitary line through the twilight. The gourd swayed gently at his back. The scroll case bumped against his hip. His eyes, calm and unblinking, scanned the roadside until they settled on a modest two-storey building with warm lantern-light spilling from its windows — an inn, well-kept, with a painted sign reading The Lotus Rest.

He pushed open the door.

The common room was half-full — travelling merchants, a pair of off-duty city guards, an old man nursing a cup of wine in the corner. Conversations dimmed for half a heartbeat as the masked stranger entered, then resumed at a lower murmur. The innkeeper, a round-faced man with a sparse beard and quick, clever eyes, hurried over with a practised smile.

"Ah, welcome, honoured customer! Welcome to The Lotus Rest." He clasped his hands and bowed. "How may I serve you today?"

The shinobi's hand emerged from beneath his cloak — no longer wrapped in dark cloth, but still gloved in black — and pressed a silver sycee into the innkeeper's palm. Enough to cover a month's stay at the finest room in the house.

His voice, when it came, was calm and even. Quiet, but clear. The first words he had spoken since stepping off the ship.

"I would like a bowl of noodles. And your best room for the night."

The innkeeper blinked. The voice was younger than he'd expected, and the accent... strange. Not any dialect he knew. Still, silver was silver.

"Yes, yes, of course, sir!" He gestured toward an empty table near the hearth. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I'll bring your meal at once and have the room prepared."

The shinobi sat with his back to the wall, as was his habit. His dark eyes swept the room once — cataloguing exits, potential threats, nothing of concern — and then stilled. He waited without fidgeting, without drumming his fingers or adjusting his position. Still as carved stone.

The noodles arrived steaming, a generous portion in a clay bowl with slices of braised pork and a soft-cooked egg perched on top. The innkeeper set it down with a pair of chopsticks and a cup of jasmine tea.

"Enjoy, sir. Will there be anything else?"

The …