Greatest Shinobi Manufactured by Konoha! (by accident)

In the clear night sky, a group of bandits set up camp in the forest, overseeing the goods they had accumulated over the month. The bandits' campfire flickered, casting eerie shadows among the trees as they reveled in their ill-gotten gains, unaware of the dangers lurking nearby.

Due to the Third Shinobi World War, where battles erupted across smaller nations, the rate of theft and burglary in larger nations increased drastically. This surge in crime was a direct consequence of the dwindling number of shinobi in these lands, as many were deployed to the front lines or lost in battle. The Land of Fire was no exception to this trend, and its once-safe roads and villages became prime targets for lawlessness.

Of course, the nobles of the nation were largely unbothered by this rise in crime. They possessed the wealth and influence to hire samurai from the Land of Iron and employ skilled shinobi trained under their jurisdiction for personal protection. Their estates and valuables remained secure, surrounded by well-armed guards and fortified walls.

Meanwhile, commoners and smaller merchants bore the brunt of the increased criminal activity. Lacking the resources to hire protection, they found themselves at the mercy of bandits and thieves. Small businesses struggled, and travel between towns became perilous.

Today, they looted two small merchants, which provided them with enough money to feed themselves for a whole month. The merchants, who had sold their goods at the next town's market, were left destitute and fearful after the encounter, their cries for help echoing in the bandits' minds only as distant, inconsequential sounds.

The bandits were in a good mood, drinking booze around the campfire, as their boss began to yap about his time as a villager in Konoha. His voice carried over the crackling flames, mixing with the occasional laughter and the clinking of bottles.

His tales were full of boasts that none of his crew took seriously, though not all of them were false. He was the only one who had unlocked his chakra and indeed had been a student in the Genin Corps boot camp before he went 'missing.' His recounting of old exploits—facing off against fearsome creatures, mastering basic jutsu, and narrowly escaping death—were embellished with every retelling, making it hard to discern fact from fiction.

They were used to his boasting, so they were preoccupied with their own thoughts while the boss continued without any clue about his surroundings. Some were lost in dreams of future heists and greater riches, while others thought about the dangers they faced and wondered how long their luck would hold out. In their distracted state, they didn't notice the subtle rustle of leaves or the faint sound of footsteps approaching their camp. The forest, usually a place of refuge, now held unseen threats that the bandits, caught up in their revelry, were oblivious to.

Their faces contorted with horror as their boss plummeted onto the crackling campfire, a jagged piece of tree bark impaling the back of his skull.

In a heartbeat, a shadowy figure materialized within the camp, its movements swift and calculated.

Before their minds could register the danger, razor-sharp wooden swords sliced through their necks, sending them tumbling to the ground, life ebbing away in crimson streams.

With ruthless efficiency, the figure discarded the bloodied weapon and swiftly stripped the fallen boss of his garments and wore them as his own.

Wearing a gray tracksuit, the fabric clinging to his frame as he moved with practiced stealth, he layered it over a black shirt and tan pants, the ensemble completed by a weapons pouch securely strapped to his back. His feet, shielded by black sandals, moved silently over the ground as he scoured the area for valuable items.

Examining the spoils of his stealthy venture, he mentally tallied the haul: 25,000 Ryo gleaming in the dim light, three menacing metal daggers promising both defense and offense, and a few spare garments for practicality's sake.

Content with his acquisitions, he opted for a gesture of respect rather than indulging in further disrespect towards the fallen. With careful precision, he buried the spoils deep within the earth, a silent tribute to the lives lost.

Utilizing the Earth Release: Double Suicide Decapitation Technique, he ensured their resting place remained undisturbed, then set his course for the welcoming glow of a nearby town. Finally, with the weight of his newfound fortune, he could relish a meal at the local tavern in the nearby town, a small but satisfying reward after coming into this world.