Ninja tended to want a bit more personal space than civilians—being constantly on watch for assassination had that effect on one. Deliberately or not (and Hazō had not the slightest doubt that it was deliberate), the proctors had crowded several hundred teenage ninja Exam entrants into a space small enough that everyone needed to be careful to avoid bumping shoulders with the stranger beside them. A ring of proctors kept anyone from spreading out while simultaneously shepherding this densely-packed and increasingly more stressed group counter-clockwise around the perimeter of what Mist laughably called the 'Death Swamp'. Periodically, one of the proctors would point at a team and say, "You! Into the Swamp! Go go go!" A second later the nearest proctors would throw rocks at the team to urge them on their way. Fortunately, there were over a hundred teams and only so much room for rocks in a ninja's equipment so...nope, that guy had just unsealed a fresh bag of rocks from his storage scroll. Great.
With a sigh, Hazō flicked some handtalk at Noburi and Keiko. Loosely translated from the simplified and telegraphic battlesign, the message was simply
"Keep it in line, you grubs!" shouted one of the proctors.
"Sorry, folks," Noburi said, raising his left hand placatingly and bringing the right out of his pouch very slowly. He turned it to show that he was holding nothing more threatening than a ten-ryo coin, which he promptly handed to Keiko. Glares were his only response.
Noburi and Hazō locked horrified eyes.
<...Well, yeah. How'd you know? Oh, except for the part about 'conquer'. That's kind of an ugly word; I prefer 'optimize'.>
Noburi looked triumphantly at Keiko. She glowered her disgruntlement as she handed him back the ten-ryo coin. Surrounding ninja were eyeing them suspiciously at this point, their own fingers flying as they 'spoke' back and forth with their teams. The only sounds were the croaking of bloodfrogs from the Swamp and a few gripes from up ahead, the sources of which were out of sight through the crowd.
She sighed heavily and tried one more time to execute the fabled River's Dragon Dance of Doom no Jutsu, glaring at her adoptive brother while doing everything she could to kill him with her brain. Sadly, the technique remained a fable and Noburi's skull remained unexploded.
The glare intensified.
Noburi had once again assumed the guise of his alter ego: Smugley Smugginton, King of Smugton. His 'careful walk' shifted into a 'strutting swagger', at least until he stepped on the heel of the Rock ninja in front of him. She turned with a curse, one hand going to the kunai at her hip.
"No fighting in the ranks, grubs!" shouted the nearest proctor. "You there! Tall girl with the kunai! Out, out, out!" His arm cocked back, rock ready to throw. The girl shot Noburi one more glare before she and her team turned and raced into the swamp steps ahead of a hail of thrown rocks.
He cut himself off as the crowd in front of them parted to reveal Teams Asuma and Kurenai. The Leaf ninja had simply stopped walking, allowing the other genin to flow around them as they waited for Hazō's group to catch up.
"Coordination seems wise," said Nara Shikamaru.
o-o-o-o
By sheerest coincidence, the Leaf teams were split up far more widely than those from any other nation. Team Uplift was not just among the last sent into the swamp, they were the last. Hazō was certain that that was also sheerest coincidence. Really.
"You know there's going to be a swarm of ambushers between us and anything, right?" Noburi said calmly, surveying the swamp in front of them. It was about the worst possible terrain; wide open, long sightlines, but dotted with many small patches of brush-covered high ground that were more than large enough for a team to hide in without actually being in the water. About a mile away was a long run of tall grass that would hide them, but getting there was definitely going to be difficult. "Word's definitely out that you're a sealmaster, so people are going to want to take us out before we can set up. Plus, it's possible that some Mist nin might have a few things they wanted to discuss with us."
"Indeed," Keiko said, pulling out a kunai. "It would be wise for us to relocate quickly."
o-o-o-o
Shichiro lay flat in the reeds, covered in his ghillie suit. He'd been careful to choose a patch of high ground where the ex-Wakahisa traitor wouldn't be able to sense him through the water. Sora and Machi were in other patches of cover to his left and right, respectively, each tucked into their own hides. He was pleased that he couldn't see them despite knowing exactly where they were. Machi had had plenty of time to charge her Shock Ball jutsu into something truly horrifying so, as long as he and Sora could maneuver those bastards into her kill zone, she should be able to one-shot them with ease. They had a clear field of view for at least a hundred yards, out to the long stretch of tall grass that lay between here and the area that the two proctors (both curiously inattentive to their surroundings) had discussed dropping off the traitor team. The bastards should be coming through here any time now, and when they did—
Something extremely sharp pricked the back of his neck. "Please be quiet," said a surprisingly cultured voice. "Summoner Keiko was very clear that I'm not allowed to kill you or even maim you, but apparently humans are rather similar to pangolins in that, if you sever the spinal column right here"—the pressure increased for a moment and Shichiro struggled not to flinch—"it leaves the target alive but permanently paralyzed. Intriguingly, she said nothing about paralyzation. Nod slowly if you understand."
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Shichiro nodded slowly; the pointy thing moved with him.
"Excellent. I'm so glad we understand one another. Now, I am here for two reasons. The first is to clear the road for the Summoner and her family, who should be coming through any ti—ah, there we are!"
The ground shook, impact ripples dancing across the surface of the water as the tall grasses were stomped flat by something the size of a scaly house that was moving faster than a ninja could sprint. It was in sight, past him, and disappearing into the trees to the south almost before he could register its presence. Behind it trailed a boy's terrified scream and a girl's laughing cries of "Faster! Faster!"
"Well, that's the first part done," said the voice. "I do think the Summoner needs to have a talk with her siblings though. Deucedly inappropriate to be screaming like that, wouldn't you say?" The voice paused for a moment and then suddenly the pointy thing pressed harder. "Excuse me, I asked you a question. It's rude to simply ignore someone."
"Yes," Shichiro said, still looking straight ahead. "Absolutely. Very inappropriate."
"I'm glad we agree. Now, my second objective was to pass on a message. You recall how the proctors are going to be giving out seals, yes?"
"Yes."
"And, of course, I'm sure you know the trick to the event?"
"I don't know what you—ow, yes! The proctors will only give you the seals if you light them up. The event is forty-eight hours but the seals only glow for twenty-four and then they burn out. Burned out seals don't count towards your points, so anyone who gets seals today will just be wasting time and chakra."
"Ah, excellent. I was afraid I'd need to explain it. Well, as you are probably aware, Summoner Keiko's brother is a sealmaster. He knows how to modify the seals so that they can be switched on and off. My Summoner and her family intend to set up a fortress somewhere near or around one of the proctors. It won't be hard to find; just look for the explosions going off overhead. The Summoner is prepared to trade. For every two lit seals, or three burned-out seals, they will give you one seal that can be turned on and off. That means you could get the seals today before much of the competition is going after them, then trade them for seals that will last until the end of the event. So long as you do not attack the Summoner or her family, they will not attack you and therefore I will not need to gut you and bury your eviscerated body in the muck for the leeches to consume. Have I been clear?"
"Yes."
"Do repeat it back, just so I can be certain you were paying attention. There's a good chap."
"They're building a fortress, find it by looking for explosions in the sky. They'll trade two lit seals or three burned-out seals for one that can be turned on and off. They won't attack unless we do."
"Well done. I do appreciate intelligent and attentive interlocuters. Pass the word around, won't you?"
By now Shichiro had learned that what sounded like rhetorical questions were not. "Yes. I'll pass the word." He tried, but couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "Why?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why is she giving out working seals in exchange for dead ones?"
"Intriguingly, I asked the very same question. I do feel that a pangolin does her job better when she knows the reasoning behind her orders, and the Summoner is far more receptive to questions than the Office of Morale tends to be. As it happens, the Summoner did not choose to answer my inquiry. Instead, she looked at her brother, who promptly began to wax rhapsodic about international cooperation, the superiority of building relationships as compared to conflict, and the fact that he is in an excellent place to promote said relationships given that his father is the 'Hokage' and his aunt is the 'Mizukage'—those are, I believe, significant titles on the Human Path?"
Shichiro choked. "Yes, they are."
"Ah. Thank you, I had suspected but wasn't entirely certain. In any case, apparently my Summoner's brother wants to promote peaceful and positive relations between nations and believes cooperating with you lot to be the superior course. Now, between you and me, I think he's an addle-pated fool. The easiest way to make peace with one's enemies is to kill them all and use their bodies as nesting material for ant farms—although, actually, paralyzing them might be superior to killing them depending on the breed of ant, but that's getting a bit far afield.
"...Your pardon, where was I? Ah, yes, the Summoner's brother. He apparently feels that 'commerce' and 'mutually-beneficial exchange of knowledge and resources' are the superior paths to global harmony. Silly, don't you think?"
"Um...."
"In any case, you have the message. Do remember to spread the word. Now, if you'll please count to a thousand before moving, I will take my leave." The claw lifted away from his neck.
Shichiro started to turn around, but froze as the claw pricked his neck again. "I didn't say at what point I would leave," said the voice, sounding vaguely irritated. "Now, please to begin the counting."
o-o-o-o
"How did it go, Panashe?" Keiko asked.
"Satisfactorily, Summoner," the pangolin replied. Hazō had asked what her rank and role were and had been unable to follow the explanation. The pangolin translation jutsu, usually quite efficient, had garbled the translation—or, at least, he hoped it was the jutsu and not his own brain having performance issues. There was something in there about 'Nonstandard Operations' and what had sounded like a rather defensive explanation of Panashe's duties, most of which sounded like fairly standard ninja work—sneaking into places, silently killing sentries, that sort of thing. The other pangolins in Keiko's tessera treated their stealth-oriented comrade with a mixture of wariness and guarded respect that left him confused.
"I had the opportunity to converse with four separate individuals," Panashe said. The pangolin was currently reclining against one of the walls of the fortress Hazō had raised with Multiple Earth Wall while Paneru the military engineer reviewed the structure. Panashe was semi-curled up, holding a whetstone in her hind feet and stropping her claws on it. "There were quite a few who demonstrated sufficient situational awareness that I felt approaching might be unwise given the rules of engagement you specified, but there was a good selection who couldn't seem to notice that there was water around them. Presumably they were claws-first troops."
Paneru let out the strangled choke that even across species lines signified laughter being stuffed back down before it could escape.
"What's the joke?" Noburi asked.
"Nothing," Paneru said. "No joke, sir. This wall is a bit crooked. I think—"
"If there was no joke then why were you laughing?" Noburi demanded.
"I, too, would be interested in the answer," Keiko said calmly. "Pangolin culture is still rather opaque to me. It would be useful to have more information."
Paneru shot a look of mute appeal at Panashe. The specialist showed no sign of discomfort as she explained. "Line of battle pangolins tend to be more oriented towards direct confrontation," she said. "The term 'claws-first troops' is derived from a rather amusing and highly unofficial aphorism: 'claws, cocks, heads through rocks', signifying their preference for direct lines of movement and extremely straightforward problem-solving strategies. Despite their focused martial capacities, impressively adequate intellects, and noteworthy degree of hygiene, many line of battle troops demonstrate an unfortunate tendency to look down upon specialists such as engineers and operators. It can occasionally result in a certain degree of inter-service friction." She gave her claws a final review and then put away the whetstone in one of the pouches on her harness. "If I might suggest, you should probably avoid use of the term within earshot of Lochagos Pankurashun. It's possible that he would find it objectionable."