The mission to investigate Sakumo White-Fang and the shinobi following him ultimately fell onto the shoulders of the newly promoted Special Jōnin, Fox.
Yoru's heart was itching, he wanted to immediately go learn Water Style: Severing Wave, but for the mission he had to tail Sakumo from afar.
Sakumo walked slowly along the streets of Konoha, his steps heavy.
Becoming the deputy commander of an upcoming major operation weighed on him. Having to gather the courage to present his demands directly to the Hokage weighed even heavier.
Sakumo knew well that one of the foundations of the Hokage's political power was the Recommendation System for promotions.
Many of his friends, especially civilian ninja, were stuck because of it, unable to advance and suffering through missions.
Who held the authority to recommend?
The Hokage decided that.
It wasn't as though any random shinobi could walk into the Hokage's office and recommend someone for Special Jōnin.
The result of the recommendation?
Also determined by the Hokage.
From Genin to Chūnin, the recommendation system shaped the destiny of every ninja.
Whether a Genin could even take the Chūnin Exams depended on their squad leader.
And the Chūnin Exams didn't select the strongest Genin, only those the leadership believed showed "potential."
In the original timeline, Shikamaru gave up in the third round yet became Chūnin. If the exam hadn't been interrupted, Sasuke might not have become Chūnin even if he ranked first.
Whether a ninja advanced depended on whether the Hokage and advisors observed them, just like the wave-particle duality in physics.
Through recommendations, the Hokage maintained complete control of the shinobi hierarchy.
If the system became merit-based, Konoha's entire promotion structure would change fundamentally.
Genin advancement → based on mission count.
Chūnin advancement → based on exam ranking.
Special Jōnin and Jōnin advancement → based entirely on mission record.
Even jutsu instruction → based on mission performance.
Fairness in Konoha would increase drastically.
Sakumo valued his comrades deeply, and he had realized exactly what civilian shinobi needed most:
Fairness. Fairness. And fairness.
But outside the civilian ninja…
Who wanted fairness?
"My clan has trained for generations, why should your ten years of hard work compare?"
From the treetops, Yoru Fox watched Sakumo from the corner of his eye.
There were many ANBU hidden around the village's alleys and woods. Even if a Jōnin noticed them, they simply assumed they were on confidential missions or conducting routine intelligence gathering.
Roughly five years remained until Sakumo's death. Yoru wondered what path he should walk in the future.
Would he remain in ANBU forever as a silent "black glove"?
He stared at Sakumo's back, eyes flickering.
In the original timeline, Sakumo seemed trustworthy… didn't he?
Eventually, Sakumo returned home. A caretaker stepped out holding a baby, handed him over to Sakumo, then departed. That baby must be Kakashi.
Soon after, three individuals entered Sakumo's house. Yoru memorized their faces carefully, planning to check the village registry after returning to ANBU.
Throughout the night, more than twenty people came to meet Sakumo. He wasn't only proposing a merit-based system, he was also forming small factions. No wonder Hiruzen Sarutobi disliked him.
"Discussing politics privately, building factions… if not for his overwhelming strength, he'd have signed his own death warrant already."
Someone like Sakumo wouldn't survive two episodes in a historical drama.
You're too straightforward… I can't help you like this. I'll need a long-term plan.
Back in ANBU, Yoru matched the faces to names in the registry and handed the list to Captain Yellow-Dog.
"Well done, Fox."
Yellow-Dog was a workaholic, still at his desk late at night. He immediately sent an assistant to gather intel on all twenty individuals.
Yoru saw how late it was. He'd study the Water Style: Severing Wave. For now, he headed to Crane-Moon Tavern.
Shokyo had long gotten used to Yoru disappearing for long periods and suddenly returning. Her guest room was always open for him, but this time, they merely talked through the night until she fell asleep from exhaustion.
The next morning, Yoru arrived at a small lake north of the Forest of Death. He unrolled the jutsu scroll and began studying Water Style: Severing Wave.
Learning jutsu on his own was troublesome, he had to analyze and think through each detail.
The system was easier: ding, and he learned it.
This technique required five hand-seals. The first seal created water in the mouth using chakra.
The next three compressed the water. The final seal expelled it at high pressure, forming a cutting jet.
A mastered Water Severing Wave could slice through tree trunks or even mountainsides.
Yoru formed the first seal; water filled his mouth.
Too much water, his cheeks puffed out like a toad.
He formed the next three seals, creating high pressure inside his mouth.
The pressure nearly tore his cheeks apart; he quickly spat the water out.
The jet shot forward and cracked the bark of a tree.
First attempt: failure.
Rubbing his aching cheeks, Yoru remembered something from his previous life:
Liquids are incompressible.
No matter how much pressure you apply, the volume barely changes.
Meaning, his mouth shouldn't be full.
He should continuously generate, continuously pressurize, and continuously expel.
He checked Hiruzen's notes, no insights included. Just five hand-seals and chakra flow instructions. Too vague.
He gathered a small amount of water again. Slowly forming the seals, he carefully sensed the chakra. On the third seal, he noticed the water start to spin.
Last time his mouth was too full to notice.
As the water spun, pressure increased.
So the pressure didn't come from his cheeks, it came from centrifugal force.
Isn't this how a centrifugal pump works?
When pressure peaked, the water shot out as a thin line, piercing the tree trunk.
Good, he was getting the hang of it. The key was maximizing water pressure.
After repeated practice, his Water Severing Wave managed to slowly slice through a massive tree five meters thick.
Still… he wanted the technique to become one of his trump cards, and its power wasn't enough.
He trained deep into the night before returning to the tavern. Shokyo was half-asleep, waving a hand fan lazily.
A breeze brushed past him. Yoru suddenly had an epiphany regarding his training. Inside his mouth, the technique formed a single rotating vortex to generate pressure.
What if he created two vortices, one clockwise, one counterclockwise, like a twin-gear pump?
The combined compression might create far greater pressure.
Inspired, Yoru thanked Shokyo for unintentionally sparking the idea, pulled on his gear, and sprinted back toward the hidden lake in the Forest of Death.
Shokyo reached toward him helplessly, he moved too fast. She wondered what she'd said to give him inspiration… she didn't remember saying anything at all.