Resting at the Shinobi tower in Admag, Cutter was able to identify some of the documents himself. Many were maps of a region called the Ashlands. He'd heard of it, but only in legend. No doubt the buildings described held even greater prizes. Many of the rest, however, seemed to be instructions on the workings of machinery. They were well beyond Cutter's ken, but he hadn't yet decided to sell them. All the cats in the world couldn't buy him a better sword, for he'd no idea if a purveyor of such fine weaponry even existed. But he knew smiths would love to try. Those he knew, in the Shek and Okranite lands, would surely fail. And those contacts he'd recently bought in the United Cities would cheat and swindle him in every way possible before delivering on their empty promises. Exasperated, he shuffled the papers together again and stashed his bag. The trip to the United Cities and swamp left him weary, and he sought the comfort of another. A belly full of grog and a cute genin cuddled against him, Cutter drifted off to sleep.