Ten days later.
A gentle breeze rustled the treetops, carrying the soft "swishing" sound of dancing willow branches. Fallen willow leaves littered the ground, only to be trampled underfoot.
A trio clad in brown cloaks moved along the road, their figures obscured by the billowing fabric. Their eyes were fixed on the faint outline of a village in the distance.
"That's Kusagakure ahead," said the man at the front. His cloak fluttered in the wind, revealing a robust physique beneath. Beside him stood a slender figure, their tall frame barely concealed by the cloak. Behind them was a much shorter figure, their face partially visible under the hood.
This was the Tsuchikage of Iwagakure, the pinnacle of the shinobi world.
Ōnoki.
"Hey, old man, is it really necessary for you to come here yourself?" grumbled the tall leader—Ōnoki's son, Kurotsuchi. He was displeased that the Tsuchikage had left the village for such a minor shinobi settlement.
As the exalted Tsuchikage, descending to deal with a small village like this was beneath their dignity. A few squads of jōnin would have been more than enough to wipe it out. Why bother the Tsuchikage?
"Shut your mouth, brat!" Ōnoki leaped up and smacked Kurotsuchi on the back of the head.
"Where I go is none of your business!"
With a cold snort, Ōnoki lamented his son's lack of insight.
"That Kusagakure has managed to acquire the techniques of every major village—except for the secret ones. That alone speaks volumes about their methods."
Village techniques were heavily guarded, yet they'd gotten their hands on them. No amount of caution was excessive in dealing with such a threat. This was something even Iwagakure couldn't accomplish.
"Just some puny Kusagakure," Kurotsuchi muttered under his breath.
He still believed crushing such a small village would be child's play.
"Brat! Don't think I didn't hear that! Your arrogance will be the death of you one day!" Ōnoki scolded angrily.
The difference between a major and minor village meant little when a single kunai could end a life just as easily. A shinobi from a great village wasn't guaranteed to live any longer than one from a small one.
"And that Kakuzu… he's a shinobi from the Warring States Era. He's not as simple as he seems."
Ōnoki's expression turned grave. The Iwagakure jōnin who had first made contact with Kusagakure had been effortlessly defeated, a clear testament to Kakuzu's formidable strength. Through extensive intelligence gathering, Ōnoki had uncovered the man's identity.
A missing-nin from Takigakure.
The bounty hunter, Kakuzu.
"A shinobi from the Warring States Era? How old must he be by now? Can he even still fight?" Kurotsuchi scoffed.
Decades had passed since that era, and most shinobi from that time were either dead or too frail to move.
Ōnoki's temple twitched in irritation.
"Don't underestimate the enemy, you damn brat!!"
With a leap, Ōnoki kicked Kurotsuchi square in the back, sending him flying. This son of his was going to be the death of him. How could he be so dense?
The woman beside them watched the father-son duo with amusement.
Ōnoki snorted and turned to her.
"I have no idea what you see in him."
The woman averted her gaze. Truthfully, Kurotsuchi had his good points.
The trio continued toward Kusagakure.
With Ōnoki present, any ill intentions the village harbored would be futile. In many ways, Ōnoki was currently the most powerful shinobi in the world. The sheer might of his Dust Release was enough to instill fear in anyone.
As they entered the village, their brows furrowed at the sight of tattooed thugs swaggering through the streets, exuding an air of violence.
What stood out most was that these were all ordinary civilians.
Their attention shifted to a nearby alley, where a gang of burly men was mercilessly beating a scrawny youth, showing no signs of stopping even as his life flickered away. Noticing the trio's stares, one of the thugs shot them a menacing glare.
"Is this really a shinobi village?"
The three were baffled. While the intel had mentioned this, witnessing it firsthand was surreal.
This place resembled a lawless city run by gangs, not a shinobi stronghold. Shinobi villages were never this chaotic. Moreover, gangs were frequent targets of assassination requests in major villages.
Would it really be wise to start a fight in a place like this? Wouldn't it just cause more chaos?
The deeper they ventured into Kusagakure, the more questions piled up in their minds.
Ōnoki, however, had a theory.
"Kusagakure must be relying solely on selling jutsu for profit, not mission requests."
"But if they keep selling techniques like this, they'll be wiped out sooner or later," Kurotsuchi said incredulously.
Their purpose here wasn't to trade—it was to destroy and plunder. Allowing Kusagakure to continue selling techniques would risk exposing Iwagakure's secrets. They'd already confirmed that the village was peddling techniques exclusive to their own.
"Unless they're confident in their strength," the woman pointed out.
Their eyes fell on a Kusagakure shinobi collecting protection money from the gang members.
"Shinobi who don't act like shinobi," the trio muttered, shaking their heads. These people hardly seemed capable of wielding great power.
"Still, this place has its uses."
They glanced at the shops and street stalls lining the roads, filled with weapons like swords, spears, and staffs, as well as forged passports from various nations and rare materials. Everything—legal or illegal—was available here.
"Won't be such a convenient place after this," Kurotsuchi remarked. Many of these items were hard to come by in the Land of Earth, yet they were abundant here.
But their arrival signaled the end of Kusagakure.
"Of course it won't."
Kurotsuchi turned to Ōnoki.
"Old man, try not to wreck the streets when the fighting starts. We can loot the place afterward and make a fortune."
Ōnoki chuckled darkly.
His son still hadn't grasped the gravity of the situation.
Victory wasn't guaranteed—though Ōnoki doubted they'd lose, there was always a chance.
As they wandered, they failed to notice that none of the passersby harassed them. While hooded figures were common in Kusagakure, newcomers were usually tested.
This was no accident. The village's higher-ups had issued strict orders: under no circumstances were outsiders to be provoked.
Unbeknownst to the trio, two figures watched them from a high vantage point in a nearby building.
Kin and Kakuzu observed the three entering the village.
"The Stone shinobi are here," Kakuzu said grimly.
"I see them," Kin replied, his gaze locking onto the shortest figure among them. A gust of wind lifted the figure's hood slightly, revealing a familiar face.
The figure suddenly looked up, as if sensing the scrutiny.
Their eyes met Kin's.
"A major problem has arrived," Kin sighed. He'd expected Iwagakure to send some elite fighters, but they'd gone straight for the trump card.
The Tsuchikage.
Ōnoki of the Two Scales.
(End of Chapter)