Three hours later, Abel was standing at the meeting spot, eating a rice ball and digesting what he had picked up around the city.

The Princess, as she was being called, had more than a few followers. Closer to a small village's worth than the six they had been told about. The six might be advisors, but there was the rest of them to consider. Also, it was less of a small group of rebels and more of a cult that honored the dead. She also had fighters, and it was a debate on if they were the local shinobi or if they had just been trained by them.

He sighed and frowned at his rice ball. This whole mission was turning into a clusterfuck, and Nagato was definitely going to be receiving a personal mission report from Abel about this if only to warn about this employer's lack of information.