91-95

Chapter 91: Long Live Danzo!  

"After finishing this patrol mission, I should consult Nara, the chief strategist, and request a reassignment."  

Umino Yoru gazed into the distance, a hint of unease creeping into his thoughts.  

Not long ago, he had killed Ebizō's disciple. If it weren’t for Mitokado Hagi—who, despite his scheming, had inadvertently helped by suppressing the intel—Umino’s name would have already been on Ebizō’s desk.  

But even Hagi’s interference could only delay the inevitable. Ebizō would eventually uncover the truth.  

Now, the legendary Sand elder loomed over him like the Sword of Damocles, ready to strike at any moment.  

Ebizō was Kage-level. Even if he was on the weaker end of that spectrum, Umino stood no chance against him.  

Hell, Ebizō didn’t even need to come himself—sending a single elite jonin would be enough to make Umino’s life a living nightmare.  

"Once I return to Shinno City to report, I’ll ask Nara for a transfer."  

To be safe, Umino immediately created two shadow clones and extended his patrol radius by several kilometers, maintaining 24/7 sonic radar surveillance.  

But instead of detecting any Sand infiltration squads, he picked up on a team of Konoha shinobi—elites, no less, all from prominent clans—attempting to penetrate deep into Sand territory.  

"Since when did Konoha’s noble clans have such a self-sacrificing spirit?"  

Umino was baffled. Missions like these—suicide infiltration ops—were usually assigned to low-ranking, expendable shinobi. Clan heirs were never forced into such high-risk tasks.  

At most, they’d do what Ebizō’s disciple had tried: probing enemy defenses, taking out a few cannon-fodder enemies, and calling it an A-rank mission.  

Outside of ANBU, it was rare to see clan elites actually risking their necks like this.  

Curious, Umino eavesdropped on their conversation.  

"Huh? Danzo’s taken command."  

A few key details stood out:  

After replacing Mitokado Koharu as frontline commander, Shimura Danzo had scrapped her defensive strategy and flooded the field with infiltration missions, aiming to break the stalemate.  

But the results were dismal.  

Danzo quickly realized the problem: the shinobi sent on these missions were low-ranking, under-equipped civilians. Their numbers meant nothing in small-scale ops.  

"If the Will of Fire burns bright, all must serve equally!"  

Danzo cared not for status—only results.  

So he reassigned the cannon fodder to large-scale battles, where their numbers mattered.  

And the clan elites?  

They were now the ones spearheading suicide missions.  

Of course, Danzo wasn’t completely unreasonable.  

Complete the mission—destroy a Sand supply depot or bring back nine Sand-nin heads—and you’d be spared.  

Fail?  

Then you clearly lacked the Will of Fire and didn’t deserve to call yourself Konoha shinobi.  

"Damn that Danzo! Our clan never should’ve voted him into the council!"  

"Shut up, Shiranui Ryō! You’ll get us all killed!"  

"Relax, Fūma Tsune. Root’s too busy to monitor us. I’m just venting."  

"Then vent quietly."  

"…Should we just desert? Find some random village, kill a few civilians, and pass them off as Sand-nin?"  

"Too late. Danzo’s already got the Yamanaka checking every head. It has to be a real Sand shinobi."  

"I should’ve gone to the Rain front instead. Damn you, Shimura Danzo—!"  

As the four clan elites cursed Danzo’s name and trudged toward their doom, Umino couldn’t help but marvel at the irony.  

For the first time, being a lowly civilian shinobi had its perks.  

Danzo—the Shadow Hokage himself—had inadvertently spared them from suicide duty.  

Fate truly worked in mysterious ways.  

24-hour surveillance passed without incident.  

The front remained quiet—but across enemy lines, explosions occasionally lit up the night. No doubt, more Konoha elites had been caught behind Sand defenses.  

Soon, it was time to return to Shinno City for reassignment.  

Ebisu arrived with the temporary patrol squad right on schedule.  

"Yoru, I won’t take your ‘Enemy-Exterminator No. 6’ for free. Here—high-energy ration bars. Hard to come by."  

After mooching yet another batch of Water Bat No. 6, Ebisu actually offered something in return—a small box of sugar-infused chakra supplements.  

Umino didn’t even reach for it.  

"I’d prefer that ‘Will of Fire’ book of yours. Keep the bars."  

"Wha—?!"  

Ebisu looked like he’d been asked to hand over his wife. That book was his prized possession—reread 99 times!  

But before he could agonize further, Umino and his team were already leaping through the trees, racing back to Shinno City.  

The journey was uneventful—no lucky encounters with Sand elites this time.  

Within half a day, they arrived.  

Kamizuki Shun greeted Umino with some juicy intel:  

"Hey, Yoru—heard the rumors? Someone’s been running a large-scale weapons smuggling ring with the Sand!"  

"Kōganseki’s gut says it’s legit," the stone-faced shinobi added quietly.  

Umino’s pulse spiked, but his expression didn’t flicker.  

"Oh? Any leads on who’s behind it?"  

"No clue. But it’s definitely a major clan pulling the strings."  

Realizing he’d treaded into dangerous territory, Kōganseki quickly changed the subject—cuckolded shinobi, skyrocketing ration bar prices, fresh faces at the military brothel…  

"Right, right. No politics—just life and dreams."  

Umino played along until he’d gleaned enough. Then, after a quick debrief at logistics, he left to prepare for whatever Danzo’s new order would bring.  

Chapter 92: Suna Spies  

As they walked, Umino Yoru habitually activated his 200-meter precision ultrasonic radar jutsu, scanning for potential ambushes.  

Shinobi thrive on unpredictability. Just because they were back at headquarters didn’t mean they were safe—if anything, it might be more dangerous here.  

Sure enough, something caught his attention.  

At a small rice shop around the corner, an almost imperceptible chakra fluctuation flickered—like someone barely learning to mold chakra.  

"Hm?" Curious, he focused his senses, only to find two ordinary civilians with no visible chakra traces.  

Odd.  

Switching to infrasonic radar jutsu for deeper penetration, he discovered the truth:  

Both were shinobi.  

One had special jonin-level reserves, the other standard chunin-level, their chakra sharp and unmistakably wind-natured.  

Why hide their chakra so meticulously?  

They had to be spies.  

"Tō, it’s been ages since we had tempura."  

"Captain, look—there’s a tempura stall. And a tavern right behind it."  

Shukudō, ever the sycophant, grinned and made arrangements. Back in Shinanogakure, he was in his element, already planning a post-mission celebration once they checked in with logistics.  

"Mm." Umino Yoru nodded approvingly, playing the part of the indulgent superior as he strutted into the tavern.  

His sonic jutsu soon confirmed it:  

The two were Sunagakure spies—and not just any spies. They were deep-cover agents planted decades ago by the Sabaku clan.  

Who’d suspect a lifelong rice merchant in Shinanogakure of being a Sabaku sleeper agent?  

No wonder they’re Suna’s top clan. Their groundwork is terrifying.  

The spy meeting the merchant had one goal: investigate the recent disappearance of a Sabaku smuggling convoy.  

They wanted their missing cargo back—and to send a warning to Konoha’s Mitokado clan for double-crossing them.  

The leaked smuggling rumors? All this spy’s doing.  

The Sabaku clan hadn’t named the Mitokado outright—they still wanted their lucrative partnership. This was just a reminder to play fair.  

After all, the Sabaku clan suspected a heist.  

How else could millions of ryō in military supplies vanish without a trace?  

Their spies in Konoha should’ve caught whispers of such a haul—yet silence.  

Conclusion? The Mitokado clan took the goods for themselves.  

It wouldn’t be the first time—but doing it mid-war was bold.  

To teach them a lesson, the Sabaku clan flooded the rumor mill, forcing the Mitokado to sweat.  

But they’d already struck a new deal: future exchanges would happen behind Suna’s frontlines.  

Now, the Mitokado had to worry about being robbed in return.  

"Better grab that ledger fast."  

Umino Yoru had planned to retrieve the smuggling records after checking in, but this was too good an opportunity.  

Excusing himself to "wash up," he created two shadow clones.  

One disguised itself and infiltrated the Mitokado compound, locating the ledger hidden in a waterproof case beneath a koi pond.  

The other tailed the Suna spy, who’d now transformed into a weathered farmer hauling a sack of rice.  

The clone slipped the ledger into a hidden corner of the rice shop—then waited.  

"Tō, let’s wrap up. Time to report in."  

Umino Yoru devoured his tempura and hustled the team toward logistics.  

Meanwhile, his clone watched as the spy queued at the city gate’s peasant entrance—a cramped side passage where commoners paid tolls just to enter or leave.  

The spy’s act was flawless: the pinched expression as he handed over coins, the stiff gait of a man who’d toiled his life away.  

Almost through…  

Then—  

"Now."  

The clone unleashed a subsonic pulse, disrupting the spy’s chakra control.  

A flicker of energy leaked out.  

"Halt! Inspection!"  

The gate guards—Hyūga and Uchiha sentries—snapped to attention.  

Cornered, the spy dropped the act.  

He flung his rice sack at the Hyūga, kicked the Uchiha into a wall, and bolted for freedom.  

Special jonin speed.  

The Uchiha guard didn’t stand a chance.  

Chapter 93: Danzo’s Scythe  

The Sand Spy’s Last Stand 

"Sand rat—STOP RIGHT THERE!"  

Four Uchiha shinobi leaped down from the castle walls, cutting off the fleeing spy’s escape.  

The Suna agent’s hands flew through seals.  

"Wind Release: Gale Vortex!"  

Twin cyclones erupted from his palms, whipping up dust and debris into a choking storm. The gate tunnel became a chaotic haze, civilians screaming as they scrambled blindly.  

Seizing the confusion, the spy tried to slip away—  

But the lead Uchiha was already countering.  

"Fire Release: Great Fireball Jutsu!"  

BOOM!  

A massive fireball obliterated the tunnel entrance.  

The spy yanked a civilian into the path of the flames—  

"AAAAAGH—!"  

Screams tore through the air as bystanders burned alive. The luckiest died instantly, reduced to charred husks. Others writhed on the ground, skin sloughing off in molten sheets. Only those at the very back escaped unscathed—though their faces were frozen in terror.  

"Pathetic. Did you really think you could outrun us?"  

The Uchiha commander strode forward, three-tomoe Sharingan spinning, his voice dripping with disdain.  

The spy spat out a mouthful of red-green froth—crushing a poison capsule between his teeth.  

"Tch. Coward’s way out."  

The Uchiha’s "Justice" 

"Lock down the area. Interrogate everyone who interacted with him."  

The Uchiha’s order was absolute. Even the gate guards—Shimotsuki Hayate and Hagane Sen—were detained for questioning.  

A portly merchant, sweating through his silks, hurried forward with a bribe.  

"L-Lord Shinobi, surely we can—"  

"Attempted bribery? Guilty. Take him to the torture cells."  

"W-Wait! This was just a token of gratitu—"  

"If you were innocent, why bribe us?" The Uchiha sneered. "Drag him away."  

As the merchant wailed about "this always working before," the Konoha Military Police hauled off the crowd. The corpses? Tossed outside the walls for families to claim—if they dared risk drawing attention to themselves.  

The Dominoes Fall 

Meanwhile, the real culprit—Umino Yoru’s shadow clone—had already poofed out of existence the moment the arrests began.  

His main body, blissfully unaware, was submitting paperwork to Nara Shikaku when chaos erupted.  

The Military Police had traced the spy’s contacts to a rice shop—whose owner promptly bit down on his own poison. A search uncovered smuggling ledgers implicating the Utatane clan.  

And the Uchiha? They marched straight to Logistics—evidence in hand.  

Root operatives intercepted them, but the damage was done. The scandal reached Danzo’s ears within minutes.  

For once, the Hokage’s shadow and the Uchiha agreed:  

Treason demanded blood.  

Danzo’s Judgment 

By the time Yoru returned, Logistics was a warzone.  

Root agents dragged out Utatane affiliates in chains. One clerk sobbed as a seal-suppression collar clamped around his throat.  

"The Old Badger’s cutting loose today," a passing Chunin muttered.  

Yoru exhaled. Better lay low until Shikaku’s free.  

Because when Danzo wielded his scythe—  

Not even Hiruzen could blunt its edge.  

Chapter 94: Danzō’s Approval  

"Keep the music playing! Let the feast continue!"  

This time, thanks to Shukudō’s well-arranged "day-off extravaganza," Umino Yoru was enjoying himself to the fullest. The thought of Mitokado Kakei’s miserable fate made every cell in his body tingle with satisfaction.  

Given Danzō’s infamous zero-tolerance policy, no one would dare shield Kakei now. Add the Uchiha clan’s external pressure, and the Mitokado clan would crumble under the strain.  

Yoru was feasting on hotpot and singing—living his best life—when a squad of Root operatives suddenly barged in.  

"Umino Yoru. You’ve been implicated. Come with us."  

Every Root ninja was elite. The four before him were at least Special Jōnin, and the cat-masked leader was undoubtedly a full-fledged Jōnin.  

Yoru briefly considered fighting back, but the power gap was too wide. Besides, this was Shinano City—Konoha’s military HQ. Even a Kage-level fighter would hesitate before trying to escape here.  

With his frail little body, resistance was pointless. So, he obediently let them cuff him, preparing for interrogation.  

At least they didn’t seal my chakra.  

That meant the situation wasn’t life-threatening. If it were, they’d have beaten him senseless first.  

Root’s usual methods were far more brutal. This "polite summons" was practically kindness by their standards.  

Relaxing slightly, Yoru shelved his "flee and become a missing-nin" plan, deciding to hear the charges first.  

Soon, he was brought to the HQ’s training grounds—not even a jail cell—to await judgment.  

"I’ve bled for Konoha! I’ve served with merit! You can’t do this to me—!"  

A Konoha Jōnin, freshly interrogated by Danzō himself, was dragged out, screaming about his contributions and how a "little embezzlement" shouldn’t doom him.  

THUD.  

The man’s head hit the ground before he finished his plea.  

Every shackled ninja present froze in terror.  

Good news, though: Those questioned in the side room all walked free.  

Then, it was Yoru’s turn.  

"Hah…"  

He exhaled in relief.  

Lucky me. Too small for Danzō’s personal attention.  

But just as he was about to enter the "safe" interrogation room, a Root agent intercepted:  

"Umino Yoru. Lord Danzō summons you."  

"…What?"  

Yoru’s blood ran cold.  

Meeting Danzō face-to-face? That was a death sentence.  

His mind raced—fight? Flee? Reverse Summoning?  

But then he noticed:  

The Root ninja wasn’t restraining him.  

This wasn’t an arrest.  

Danzō actually wanted to see him.  

The cuffs came off.  

Swallowing his panic, Yoru followed the agent into the shadow-drenched HQ office.  

No lights. Curtains drawn. The air reeked of calculating malice.  

"So. You are Umino Yoru."  

A voice like frostbitten steel slithered from the darkness.  

Instinct kicked in.  

"Yes, Vice-Hokage-sama!"  

Yoru snapped to attention, posture military-perfect.  

"Vice… Hokage?"  

Danzō savored the title.  

"Hmph. According to Sarutobi Enjirō’s report, you stand accused of embezzlement. Explain yourself."**  

Stepping into the dim light, Danzō’s single eye gleamed with cold scrutiny. No cane, no bandaged arm—no Hashirama cells yet.  

He held a dossier—Yoru’s entire service record.  

This wasn’t about flattery. Danzō already knew everything.  

"Embezzlement?!"  

Yoru’s mind overclocked.  

What could I have stolen?  

As a lowly Chūnin, his only "ill-gotten gains" were:  

1. Spoils from Suna puppeteers (the four puppets from Chiyo’s disciples).  

1. "Exploiting" his genin team (Shukudō’s "forced purchases"). 

Ah.  

Sarutobi Enjirō must’ve reported his "extortion" of Shukudō, twisting it into corruption.  

"Vice-Hokage-sama, this is a misunderstanding!"**  

He launched into his defense:  

• Presented Shukudō family’s official purchase receipts.  

• Explained the Multi-Layer Iron Prison Gate’s mechanics.  

• Detailed how hundreds of millions of ryo were lost fighting Suna. 

"I’ve been subsidizing Konoha’s war effort out of pocket! I’m drowning in debt!"  

As for the "stolen puppets"?  

"They were ruined in battle! The poison I used alone cost a fortune!"  

He unsealed the shattered puppet armor as proof.  

"You killed one of Chiyo’s disciples?"**  

Danzō’s eyebrow twitched. He’d assumed Suna’s retaliation was just an excuse—not an actual loss of a prized pupil.  

By the end, Yoru had erased Danzō’s suspicions.  

"Umino Yoru… I recognize your Will of Fire."**  

Danzō’s lips curled. He admired Yoru’s *"self-funding loyalty"*—especially the "suicide bombing dedication".  

"Where the leaves dance, flames shall forever burn!"  

Yoru stood ramrod straight, radiating fanatical conviction.  

"Umino Yoru. By my authority—"  

Danzō produced a pre-prepared scroll.  

"—you are hereby promoted to Special Jōnin."**  

Chapter 95: Danzo’s "Talent"  

Stepping out of the command center, Umino Yoru stared at his promotion papers. By all rights, he should’ve been thrilled—but right now, he just wanted to curse his ancestors.  

Being promoted to Special Jonin wasn’t the issue.  

The problem was his new assignment: taking over as frontline mobile patrol captain from Akimichi Torifu.  

Danzo’s "kindness" had backfired spectacularly.  

Umino had returned to Shinno City specifically to request a transfer—something far from the frontlines, where Ebizō’s vengeance couldn’t reach him.  

But now?  

Thanks to Danzo’s orders, he was stuck in the hottest combat zone.  

Before, as a border sentry, his job was simple: spot enemies, sound the alarm, flee if outmatched.  

Now? He had to hold the line.  

Any Sand infiltration squad breaking through would be his responsibility to stop.  

Of course, Danzo hadn’t done this out of appreciation for Umino’s skills.  

No—this was about reallocating resources.  

Having two elite fighters like Maruboshi Kosuke and Akimichi Torifu babysitting Sarutobi Shinnosuke was a waste of combat power in Danzo’s eyes.  

So, naturally, he’d reassigned them to "more impactful" roles—and tossed Umino into the vacancy like a sacrificial pawn.  

On paper, leading 10 patrol squads as a Special Jonin was a rare opportunity for a civilian-born shinobi like him.  

Most such positions went to clan members with connections.  

Danzo had fast-tracked him solely because his "Will of Fire" met the old schemer’s standards.  

Normally, this would’ve been a blessing.  

But Umino had killed Ebizō’s prized student.  

Now, this "promotion" was a death sentence in disguise.  

And the worst part?  

He had to act grateful.  

So he’d played along—vowing loyalty, promising to strive for full jonin rank, and even pledging to "vote for Danzo in the next Hokage election" as repayment for this "honor."  

"Truly, this is Danzo’s doing."  

Umino glanced back at the shadowy command center, his respect for Danzo’s unique talents renewed.  

The man had a gift.  

Even when trying to help, he somehow made things worse.  

If this was his "kindness," Umino shuddered to imagine what actual malice looked like.  

Before, he’d thought Danzo was just ambitious but incompetent.  

Now?  

It was clear—when it came to ruining lives, Shimura Danzo was a genius.  

A master of misery, worthy of his title: "The Darkness of the Shinobi World."  

Folding the papers away, Umino finally exited—only to find Tekudō and his team waiting anxiously outside.  

"Captain! You’re alive?!"  

Relief washed over them as they swarmed him.  

"Here."  

Umino handed Tekudō a document.  

"Your Chunin Promotion Certificate."  

Tekudō’s eyes bulged.  

"I—I’m a chunin now?! WOOOO!"  

He whooped, pumping his fists as Inuzuka Ryō and Kosugi congratulated him—Ryō with envy, Kosugi with pure joy.  

But Umino’s smile was frosty.  

**"By the way… Danzo-sama personally approved this. Happy?"**  

"…Eh?"  

Tekudō’s celebration died instantly.  

"C-Captain… save me! I don’t wanna join ROOT!"  

Clearly, Umino’s "education" had paid off—Tekudō was no longer a naive rookie.  

As a Shigure clan descendant, he understood politics far better than the average grunt.  

"Relax. With your skills? Danzo wouldn’t waste the resources."  

Umino clapped his shoulder.  

ROOT prioritized efficiency. Recruiting them would be bad math.  

Meanwhile, inside the command office…  

A dog-masked ROOT agent knelt before Danzo.  

"Lord Danzo, if you value Umino Yoru’s Will of Fire… why not recruit him?"  

Danzo didn’t glance up from his scrolls.  

"His combat style relies too heavily on tools. ROOT’s budget cannot sustain such waste."  

"Understood."  

The agent bowed.  

Morale was cheap. Funding wasn’t.  

"Next order." Danzo’s voice turned icy. "Throw Sarutobi Shinnosuke back to Konoha. The frontline has no room for glory-seeking leeches."  

"Yes, sir!"  

**"And interrogate Sarutobi Eijirō. Use Yamanaka Fū’s Mind Reading Jutsu—dig out every memory. I want every rat gnawing at Konoha’s roots exposed."**  

The agent hesitated.  

"But… the Third Hokage—"  

"The Third?" Danzo’s grip crushed the scroll. "His nephew colluded with Mitokado Hagi to pillage village resources! If anyone owes an explanation, it’s him!"  

Regret burned in Danzo’s chest.  

If only he’d spoken faster that day.  

If only he had been the one to volunteer as decoy against Kinkaku…  

Then he—not the soft-hearted Hiruzen—would be Hokage.  

And Konoha wouldn’t be rotting from within.  

"Next!"  

Danzo snarled, scanning another damning report.  

Somewhere in the room, a mouse hiding in the walls shivered.