Chapter Nineteen - Revised
---
"You're telling me he did it."
"I told you, Hokage-sama."
Tsunade leaned back in her chair, fingers drumming against the armrest. The afternoon light slanted through the windows, casting long shadows across the paperwork scattered on her desk.
"This gives us the chance to put his plan into action. He's even worthy of a Jōnin rank and an S-rank missing-nin status. I knew he was stronger than that Special Jōnin rank he was itching for."
"Does this seem like a joke to you?" Tsunade's eyes narrowed, amber and sharp.
"No, Hokage-sama," Shikaku replied evenly, "but there's no use worrying. It's better to tag him a rogue-nin now. The village saw his prowess. Jōnin can testify—that's probably the reason he did it in the first place. Now nobody will doubt the legitimacy of his status. We just have to find one crime to pin on him."
Tsunade exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. "Ahh, just do whatever you please. Bring me other issues to resolve. Anything relating to Kenshin Yogen is your problem."
"Yes, Hokage-sama." Shikaku bowed slightly and turned to leave, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that echoed through the quiet office.
---
Ha. A day in the life of a rogue ninja.
Kenshin sat cross-legged on a flat boulder overlooking a winding river, the sound of rushing water a constant, soothing hum. The forest around him was dense, the canopy above filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the ground.
What should I do today? Check on Orochimaru? Nah. Rob some towns? I need all the ryō I can get.
He pulled out a small notebook—one of the few non-sealed items he carried—and flipped through the pages. Tallies, dates, notes in his own shorthand.
It's been a while since I cataloged my tickets. I gained a lot from completing missions. Even completed my first B-rank mission.
He tapped the pen against his chin, thinking.
I completed 20 C-rank missions, beat the Genma trio, and defected from Konoha. Yeah, I made a lot of achievements. So what are the reward tallies?
He focused inward, accessing the system interface that shimmered faintly in his mind's eye.
[Achievement History - Recent]
- 20 C-Rank Missions Completed → +1 Gold Ticket
- First B-Rank Mission Completed → +1 Platinum Ticket
- Defeated Genma and the duo →+1 Diamond Ticket
- Defected from Konoha (S-Rank Missing-Nin Status) → +1 Diamond Ticket
[Current Ticket Inventory]
- Mythical Tickets: 1
- Legendary Tickets: 6
- Diamond Tickets: 9
- Platinum Tickets: 3
- Gold Tickets: 3
- Bronze Tickets: 3
Kenshin grinned, closing the notebook with a snap.
Perfect.
---
"That comes to a total of 300 million ryō. You guys are broke—even more so after this robbery."
Kenshin counted money while sitting on a pile of dead bodies, the bandit den around him still smoking faintly from the brief, one-sided fight. Blood pooled in the cracks of the wooden floor, the acrid scent mixing with the smell of stale sake and unwashed bodies.
"How'd you even get this amount? You all must have been in this business for a while." He chuckled to himself, tucking the cash into his storage seal with a casual flick of his wrist.
He jumped down from the pile of corpses, dusting off his black cloak. The fabric was pristine—not a speck of blood.
Let's head to a village. Sightseeing is natural while traveling. And I need a new fashion statement for my adult form.
He stepped out into the afternoon sun, the forest path ahead winding lazily through the trees.
---
Ayo, is that Naruto?
Kenshin paused mid-step, his Observation Haki pinging a familiar chakra signature up ahead. Bright, chaotic, tinged with the faintest trace of the Nine-Tails.
He peeked around a tree.
Yep. Spiky blond hair, orange jumpsuit, scowling at a fruit vendor.
Heh. Jiraiya must have abandoned him for a peeping fiesta. It's always been funny to me how a spymaster is always found out by normies.
Kenshin walked past Naruto, hands in his pockets, his adult form making him unrecognizable. Black hair tied in a ponytail, strands falling over his face, 6'2", black eyes calm and unreadable. A black short-sleeved cloak draped over casual inner wear, semi-baggy free-flowing trousers completing the look.
To the ordinary eye, he looked like a handsome, dripped-out civilian with average chakra levels.
To Naruto, he was just another face in the crowd.
Kenshin kept walking, disappearing into the bustling marketplace.
---
It had been six months since he left Konoha.
Six months of freedom, chaos, and relentless grinding.
Occasionally, he sent clones to the black market—openly, brazenly, building his reputation. Kenshin Yogen, S-rank missing-nin. The rogue who beat three Konoha jōnin and walked out the front gate.
Konoha shinobi hunted him, of course. But only jōnin had the balls to actually engage.
Well, except for one genin squad.
An eager kid had squared up with him despite his jōnin's frantic warnings, probably because Kenshin looked young in his transformed state.
"You don't look that tough!" the kid had shouted.
Kenshin had beaten him unconscious, then dismantled the rest of the genin squad for good measure.
Now, occasionally, he waited until genin were without their jōnin and scared them. Just for fun.
Ah, the simple pleasures of being a rogue ninja.
But the past six months hadn't been all banditry and trolling genin. He'd put the Scroll of Seals to good use.
---
The past six months had been productive.
Month one was dedicated to Flying Thunder God—Minato's legendary space-time technique. With his Rokugan breaking down the seal formula and his shadow clones running parallel training sessions, what should've taken years took weeks. By the end of the first month, he could teleport to pre-placed markers within a hundred-meter range. By month two, he'd perfected it—mid-combat marker creation, intercontinental jumps, the whole package. He'd scattered FTG markers across the shinobi world like breadcrumbs. Hidden in trees, embedded in rocks, carved into inn walls.
Edo Tensei came next. Month two and three were spent unraveling Tobirama's forbidden resurrection technique. The theory was sick—pull souls from the Pure Land, bind them to living sacrifices, suppress their will with control tags. His Grandmaster Fūinjutsu and Master Medicine made the mechanics digestible. He practiced on corpses first, then graduated to actual resurrections using bandits as sacrifices. No grey area, no moral qualms—these were murderers and worse.
By month three, he could resurrect jonin level shinobi at ninety percent strength with flawless control. His Grandmaster medicine trait allowed him to stabilize the cellular structure better than Orochimaru, placing at Kabuto's level. While his Grandmaster Fuinjutsu refined the binding tag.
The Reaper Death Seal was studied but never used. Twelve hand seals, summoning array memorized, mechanics understood.
Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu was almost laughably easy. He already knew the base technique—this was just more. The "forbidden" part was the chakra strain that could kill normal shinobi. But with S-rank capacity, Infinite Stamina, and Mysticism? He could sustain two hundred clones without breaking a sweat. His training efficiency had effectively multiplied by two hundred.
The remaining months were spent on advanced fūinjutsu—Contract Seal, Four Symbols Seal, Eight Trigrams Seal—and integrating everything into his combat style. Flying Thunder God combined with Soru, Boogie Woogie, and Instant Transmission made him the most mobile shinobi alive. Four space-time techniques, each with different strengths, used interchangeably.
Six months well spent.
---
Kenshin stood at the edge of a cliff, staring out at the perpetual rain in the distance. Grey clouds swirled endlessly above a city of twisted spires and industrial smoke.
Amegakure.
The Akatsuki's nest.
He'd delayed long enough. Time to make an entrance.