Boruto tried to blend into the streets and alleys of Konoha.
He first visited several snack stalls and teahouses that seemed popular, pricking up his ears to catch the surrounding chatter.
What he heard was mostly Family gossip, mission trivia, or admiration for a certain Jonin. There was very little information about the Hokage or the Uchiha. Even when mentioned, people spoke vaguely, as if the villagers harbored a subtle avoidance of these two topics.
Just as he was preparing to move to another area, perhaps near the training grounds, he passed a relatively bustling commercial street.
A building at the corner with a flashy sign reading "Victory House" and half-drawn curtains caught his attention.
The sounds of clamoring voices, the crisp clatter of dice, and occasional bursts of cheers or sighs drifted from inside.
A casino?
Boruto frowned; such places were a mixed bag. While they might hold a lot of intelligence, the risks were also high.
He had intended to walk past quickly, but his peripheral vision inadvertently swept across the entrance, and he suddenly froze in place as if pulled by a magnet.
Through the gap in the lifted curtain, he clearly saw two exceptionally striking figures at a gambling table inside.
One was a beautiful woman with brilliant blonde hair and an impressive figure, wearing a green robe with the word "Gamble" printed on the back. She was pushing a large stack of chips forward with grand bravado, shouting, "All in! This hand has to be 'Big'!"
That face—Boruto could never mistake it—was the Fifth Hokage, Lady Tsunade, whom he had seen before!
Only, her expression seemed to lack the weight of being the Hokage, replaced by a sense of flamboyance and unruliness.
Sitting beside her was a man with long, straight black hair and a gentle face.
He wore dark red layered plate armor and was currently looking at Tsunade with a helpless yet doting smile as she pushed the chips out, before placing a small stack of his own.
He blended into the casino environment perfectly, occasionally letting out a hearty laugh.
When Boruto saw this man's face clearly, he felt his blood freeze instantly, and his mind went blank.
The face on the first statue of the Hokage Rock... the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama?
No!
That's absolutely impossible!
Boruto blinked hard and even gave his cheek a secret pinch.
It hurt! It wasn't a hallucination!
The First Hokage, Senju Hashirama—he was the legendary figure who founded Konoha and ended the Sengoku period. Decades had passed since his time!
He was a historical monument long deceased, carved into stone for future generations to look up to.
How could he be sitting here, alive and well, accompanying his granddaughter... to gamble?!
That Tsunade was the granddaughter of the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, was basic common knowledge in Konoha.
But common knowledge also told him that Hashirama had been dead for many years.
An absurd thought uncontrollably wormed its way into Boruto's mind: Could it be that we didn't fall into some past timeline, but rather some strange "City of the Undead"?
Or like something written in a light novel, a wondrous world where historical figures are all resurrected and live in the same era?
Shock and confusion kept him standing dazed at the entrance for quite a while.
He even saw Senju Hashirama seemingly lose money, yet he only smiled good-naturedly and patted Tsunade's shoulder like an ordinary grandfather treating a willful granddaughter, with indulgence and a sense of "I can't do anything about you."
Meanwhile, Tsunade was completely immersed in the game, laughing loudly when she won and slamming the table in frustration when she lost, then tugging her grandfather's sleeve to ask for "a bit more capital."
After observing for a few minutes, Boruto discovered a speechless fact: the luck of these two legendary figures at the gambling table seemed... exceptionally rotten.
The First Hokage would win a hand or two occasionally, but Tsunade hadn't won once from start to finish.
"..."
Boruto's lips twitched. The sense of horror and curiosity he had felt from seeing a historical legend "resurrected" was instantly diluted by a massive sense of absurdity and a subtle feeling of "disillusionment."
The First Hokage and his granddaughter, losing money together in a casino?
The scene was too surreal, and it clearly wasn't a good place to gather normal intelligence.
Ultimately, Boruto curled his lip, decisively withdrew his gaze, and turned to leave.
The information here was too "off the charts" and filled with a sense of unreality.
Boruto kept an eye on both sides of the street, searching for the location of the training grounds while also observing the commercial landscape of Konoha in this era.
What bothered him a bit was that after walking several streets, he hadn't seen a single sign for the Kaminarimon Company's Family industry, let alone the shops he was familiar with that sold trendy electronic products and fast food.
The sides of the streets were mostly traditional ninja tool shops, fruit and vegetable stalls, bookstores, and handicraft shops, exuding a simple atmosphere unique to an older era.
Before he knew it, the sun was nearing noon, and a growl came from his stomach.
Boruto felt his pocket; there was still plenty of money left that Uncle Sasuke had given him.
He looked around, wanting to find a place for lunch, where he could also listen for news in a crowded place like a restaurant.
Just then, his gaze was drawn to a familiar shop at the corner.
It was Ichiraku Ramen!
Boruto's eyes lit up.
He was more than familiar with this place.
Growing up, he didn't know how many times his dad had brought him here.
Right!
A flash of inspiration struck Boruto's mind.
He had almost forgotten that he had intended to make this his target. He'd go to Ichiraku Ramen to see if his dad was there and have a meal while he was at it!
Maybe he would even "stumble upon" him right here.
Even if he didn't, it wouldn't matter.
Although Karasuki warned against contact and exposure, it should be fine to observe from afar or hear news about him from others, right?
Thinking of this, a trace of expectation rose in Boruto's heart, mixed with nervousness.
He steadied his nerves, adjusted his expression to look like an ordinary young diner from another village, and then raised his hand to lift the noren curtain printed with the word "Ichiraku."
"Welcome!"
Behind the counter, a middle-aged man wearing a white headscarf and a kind smile greeted him without looking up, his hands skillfully handling dough.
But he seemed to sense something and looked up at the guest who had just entered.
In that brief glance, Teuchi's movements paused, and a genuine, familiar smile appeared on his face. His tone became even more enthusiastic: "Oh! It's Naruto! You really haven't been here in a long time! Today's meal is on the house."
Hearing Teuchi's words, Boruto was stunned.
Dad hasn't been here to eat in a long time?
Boruto's daze and silence clearly allowed Teuchi to perceive something unusual.
He stopped rolling the noodles, adjusted his headscarf, and scrutinized Boruto carefully for a few more moments.
Upon closer inspection, the enthusiastic smile on his face gradually turned into confusion, followed by realization, and he waved his hand apologetically.
"Ah, sorry, sorry, guest!"
Teuchi smiled sheepishly: "I mistook you for an old regular who used to come often.
Looking closely, although there's some resemblance in the features, you're not the same person."