321-325

Chapter 321: What Are You Waiting For? Go Get Your Revenge 

I’d thought that after rising to the position of Gyōbu-taifu (Minister of Justice), wielding authority over life and death in my domain, I’d at least be able to speak coherently in front of Yoru. 

But now— 

Facing him in person, I realized just how wrong I’d been. 

Yoru’s presence was overwhelming, domineering. 

Before him, I felt like a tiny ant, so insignificant I could barely breathe—worse than before. 

"Bring out all the protest representatives." 

Yoru strode toward the plaza. "Let’s settle this dispute on this fine autumn day, with the gentle breeze as our witness." 

"Yes, my lord!" 

The Gyōbu-taifu bowed and hurried off, while the other officials followed Yoru to the square. 

Before long, a group of black-clad enforcers—faces stern—dragged out a crowd of disheveled, ragged prisoners. 

A quick count put their numbers at three to four hundred—a staggering sight. 

Then, another contingent of fully armed soldiers marched forward, escorting a group of burly warriors before Yoru. 

"Lord Yoru, all have been brought as ordered!" 

The Gyōbu-taifu knelt before him, head lowered in deference. 

"Leave us." 

Yoru’s gaze swept over the assembled crowd. 

Where his eyes fell, men gulped, faces paling with fear. 

His stare was piercing, deep—as if it could rip the soul straight from the body. 

None present had ever witnessed such a terrifying gaze. 

Finally, his eyes settled on the warriors. 

"You are from the border garrison. Correct?" 

"Yes!" 

Their voices boomed, echoing across the square. 

"Then you know storming the capital and causing chaos is a grave crime. Do you admit your guilt?" 

"We do! But we beg Lord Yoru to grant us justice!" 

"Our brothers died—starved, sickened, frozen—because our wages were embezzled! We cannot let this stand!" 

Tears streamed down the faces of these hardened men, their grief raw and palpable. 

Yoru turned to the Gyōbu-taifu. 

"Under the law, what is their sentence?" 

"Demotion by one rank, a fine of two hundred ryō, six months of hard labor at the border, and forty lashes." 

The minister recited the punishment without hesitation. 

"Do you accept this judgment?" Yoru asked the warriors. 

"We’d rather die than let this injustice go unpunished! We beg Lord Yoru to avenge our brothers!" 

"PLEASE GRANT US JUSTICE!" 

Their voices cracked as they kowtowed, their desperation moving even the sternest onlookers. 

But Yoru’s decision to address the garrison first sent a chill through the other prisoners. 

Meanwhile, the real culprits—particularly the three vice presidents of the Shimizu Guild—smirked inwardly. 

"See? Even Lord Yoru has to compromise. He wouldn’t dare touch us first." 

After all, the garrison’s rage had been directed at them. 

By punishing the soldiers first, wasn’t Yoru siding with the guild? 

… 

Or was he? 

"Since you’ve placed your trust in me, very well." 

Yoru looked down at the kneeling warriors. 

"The Gyōbu-taifu’s sentence stands—but given the circumstances, I’ll show leniency." 

"Five lashes each. That’s all." 

Silence. 

The warriors froze. The crowd gaped. 

What kind of verdict was this?! 

"A soldier’s scars should be earned in battle—honorably." 

"Not from something as shameful as a whipping." 

When the warriors remained stunned, Yoru kicked one lightly in the rear. 

"On your feet. How long do you plan to kneel?" 

As they rose, grinning like fools— 

Yoru rolled his eyes at these men, all taller than him. 

"Did you really have so little faith in me that you had to riot in the capital?" 

His words sent a ripple of unease through the other prisoners. 

"Bring their swords." 

At Yoru’s command, the Gyōbu-taifu signaled his subordinates. 

Soon, attendants returned carrying chipped, bloodstained blades—weapons that had seen battle. 

"Take them." 

Yoru’s voice was calm. 

"Go get your revenge." 

The warriors stood dumbfounded. 

Was… was this real? 

Gulp. 

They exchanged glances, then dropped to their knees again. 

"THANK YOU, LORD Yoru!" 

Three resounding kowtows later— 

They rose, transformed. 

Their eyes burned with murderous intent. 

And when their hands closed around their swords— 

The killing aura that erupted turned the faces of onlookers ashen. 

"Terrifying, isn’t it?" 

Yoru’s voice was eerily composed. 

"But this is what they’ve earned with their blood. If they weren’t ruthless, their enemies would be worse." 

The warriors charged. 

Straight toward the Shimizu Guild’s three vice presidents and their accomplices. 

No pleas. No mercy. 

Just steel flashing through the air. 

THUD. THUD. THUD. 

Heads rolled. Blood sprayed. 

Gulp. 

The crowd shuddered. 

Ministers trembled. Prisoners soiled themselves. 

And when the warriors finished— 

They dropped to their knees once more, tears streaming. 

"Brothers… we’ve avenged you! Lord Yoru has brought justice!" 

A sudden gust swept the plaza, howling like the souls of the dead crying out in gratitude. 

The Gyōbu-taifu stammered, "M-My lord… executing three vice presidents just like that… is this… appropriate?" 

Chapter 322: No More Killing  

Yoru’s ruthlessness was staggering!  

Those were three vice presidents of the Shimizu Guild—the highest-ranking figures after Yoru himself. They were practically the ones really running the guild. Killing them would throw everything into chaos!  

"Rats are rats. Useless if left alive—better to exterminate them."  

Yoru’s voice betrayed no emotion. "When I founded the Shimizu Guild, I warned them: skim a little, take your cuts—fine. But when it comes to matters of life and death? No compromises."  

"Yet this time, their corruption didn’t just bleed the border troops dry. It stole from tens of thousands of Water Country refugees. It drove honest citizens to banditry. And worst of all—they even embezzled medical funds, money meant to save lives."  

"Their greed has made them fearless. Too fearless. If they’ve forgotten my warnings, then what use are they? Should I wait for them to orchestrate an even greater scandal?"  

The Minister of Justice fell silent.  

The border army representatives kowtowed again, gratitude trembling in their voices.  

Yoru’s gaze swept over them. "Return to your posts. The frontier needs you. And tell your general this—Yoru hasn’t forgotten them. He won’t let them down."  

With a unified bow, the soldiers withdrew.  

Then Yoru turned to the remaining prisoners kneeling in the square.  

"Mercy, Lord Yoru!" 

"We beg you—spare us! We’ll never do it again!" 

"Please, give us another chance!"  

Under Yoru’s ice-cold stare—sharper than any blade—the convicts trembled, foreheads smacking the ground in desperation.  

But their pleas fell on deaf ears.  

Yoru unfurled a scroll.  

"Minister of War. Conspired with the Shimizu Guild’s three vice presidents to embezzle military funds. Result: over a thousand soldiers dead due to supply shortages."  

"Additionally, stole from education, healthcare, and infrastructure budgets—totaling 1.35 billion ryō."  

Yoru’s eyes locked onto the Minister of War, front and center among the prisoners. "You disappoint me."  

"L-Lord Yoru! P-Please—I—I’ve learned my lesson! One more ch—"  

The minister’s begging choked off as Yoru’s gaze froze his blood.  

"Another chance?" Yoru suddenly smiled. "Unnecessary. Executioner—"  

"Here!"  

"Off with his head."  

"Yes, sir!"  

A flash of steel—  

A head tumbled, eyes wide with terror.  

Blood soaked the earth.  

The remaining prisoners shook like leaves, held in place by Justice Ministry enforcers.  

Yoru continued, voice merciless.  

"Minister of Finance. Embezzled—"  

Another list of crimes. Another icy decree:  

"Off with his head."  

"NO—!"  

Another corpse. Another pool of blood.  

"Minister of Ceremonies. You—"  

One by one, Yoru reaped lives like the Shinigami himself.  

The square became a slaughterhouse. The stench of blood clung to the air, thick enough to make even the nobility retch.  

This scene would be branded into their memories—forever.  

By the time Yoru paused, the ground was a river of crimson, the stench suffocating all of Daimyō City.  

Finally, someone snapped.  

"L-Lord Yoru! You can’t keep killing! At this rate, the Water Country won’t have a government left!"  

"Many here are mere accomplices—some even acted under duress! Their crimes don’t warrant death!"  

An elderly man—hair streaked with gray—knelt before Yoru, trembling but resolute.  

"Please, my lord! Show mercy! If this continues, the entire court will collapse !"  

Others joined, voices rising in unison.  

Even the Minister of Justice was among them.  

Yoru’s eyes narrowed.  

"What is this? Collusion? Or do you think I lack the resolve to kill you too?"  

A chill swept through the crowd.  

They knew—he would do it.  

After all, they’d never believed Yoru would execute figures like the Minister of War or the Shimizu Guild’s leaders.  

Yet he’d done so without hesitation.  

Ruthless. Unflinching.  

The remaining prisoners despaired. For a moment, they’d dared to hope—  

But no.  

Death was inevitable.  

"This isn’t collusion!"  

The gray-haired man spoke again, voice raw. "It’s reason. More bloodshed won’t heal the Water Country. What difference is there between this and the Bloody Mist era? If you must kill—then kill me first. I refuse to watch this madness!"  

He met Yoru’s gaze, unblinking.  

"A ruler must balance justice and mercy. Too much steel—and the blade shatters."  

Yoru smiled.  

"Your name. Your rank."  

"Murakami Kazuo. Ceremonial Inspector, Third Class."  

The old man shut his eyes, ready to die.  

If he couldn’t stop Yoru—at least he wouldn’t have to watch.  

Chapter 323: The Nation Turns Fine Without Anyone  

"How amusing."  

Yoru glanced at the officials kneeling before him and said, "Fine. I’ll grant you all some face—the remaining prisoners don’t have to die."  

"However…"  

"While they escape death, they won’t escape punishment."  

"Exile them to the borders to defend against enemies. If they couldn’t appreciate their lavish lives, then let them taste the harshness of the frontier!"  

"And you, Muraima Kazuo—"  

"Starting today, you are the Minister of Etiquette and the Minister of Oversight. Since you spoke so eloquently earlier, I’ll entrust you with purging the corruption in Mizu no Kuni’s court. Request whatever resources you need from the shogunate."  

"Finally…"  

Yoru swept his gaze over the sea of kneeling officials, his smile radiant.  

"I hope this kind of… spectacle never happens again. And I hope none of you ever end up among those criminals."  

With that, he turned and left.  

"Court resumes tomorrow. We’ll discuss replacements for the vacant positions—feel free to recommend candidates."  

"But remember: Recommenders will be held accountable for their candidates. If the latter err, the former shares the punishment."  

"So if you want to push someone, choose carefully. I’ll even let you form factions—as long as it benefits Mizu no Kuni. Otherwise…"  

He didn’t need to finish. The crowd shuddered, bowing deeply as he departed.  

By that afternoon, the news had spread across Mizu no Kuni and its neighboring states.  

"Gulp…"  

"As expected of a commander forged in war. His methods are swift and merciless—executing so many high-ranking officials without hesitation!"  

"Long live Lord Yoru!!"  

"This is so satisfying! Just as I’d expect from Lord Yoru!"  

"We’ll always support you!"  

Though his methods were brutal, most of Mizu no Kuni’s citizens approved wholeheartedly.  

No one hated corrupt officials more—especially after their blatant, unchecked greed this time. Many had wished for their execution, and Yoru had delivered.  

Meanwhile, other factions were shaken.  

Especially the Shimizu Merchant Guild.  

All three vice-leaders—executed!  

These were Yoru’s own people, yet even they weren’t spared. The message was clear:  

"Harm Mizu no Kuni’s interests, and not even connections will save you."  

Any lingering delusions of immunity vanished.  

When Terumi Mei heard the news, she could only sigh.  

"So much for ‘keeping it quiet.’"  

Now, the entire shinobi world knew.  

"Well, expecting Yoru not to make waves is like expecting the sun to rise in the west."  

The next day…  

The shogunate handled state affairs while Yoru and the officials debated replacements for the vacant positions.  

Only Yoru could purge so many officials without collapsing the government.  

Thanks to his water clones and the shogunate system, Mizu no Kuni’s operations never stalled.  

This cemented a new belief in the court:  

"No one is irreplaceable. The nation turns fine without anyone."  

Those who thought, "They can’t afford to lose me," quickly abandoned such arrogance.  

In other nations, high-ranking offenders might escape death—even receive leniency for their talents.  

But in Mizu no Kuni?  

Only one outcome awaited them.  

With vacancies still unfilled, Yoru proposed another bold solution:  

Recruit talent from allied nations.  

Soon, applicants flooded in.  

Skeptics were left speechless—Yoru had done it again.  

Who else would dare hire foreign talent? Weren’t they just inviting spies?  

But Yoru’s terms were airtight:  

• Naturalization upon employment. Only Mizu no Kuni citizenship remained.  

• Betrayal = treason. Punishable by extermination of nine clans, with the original nation’s daimyo held accountable. 

This made defection unthinkable—even if they returned, their homeland would shun them.  

Of course, the stick came with a carrot:  

• Prestige, security, and welfare benefits as Mizu no Kuni citizens.  

• Career opportunities that could change their lives. 

Faced with such incentives, few would choose to return to poverty and chaos.  

Within seven days, Yoru had neutralized all fallout from the corruption scandal.  

The court stabilized, running more efficiently than ever.  

And a new department emerged:  

The Oversight Bureau.  

Tasked with monitoring officials, it operated under a revised penal code—stricter, clearer, and far more deterrent.  

By the time Yoru returned to Kirigakure, half a month had passed since the executions.  

"Yoru. You promised not to make a scene."  

Terumi Mei sighed, arms crossed.  

"Ah… my bad."  

He tilted his head and shrugged.  

Mei could only groan in defeat.  

"It’s graduation season again. Want to take on a new genin team?"  

She handed him a scroll, eyes hopeful.  

"Pass."  

Yoru skimmed the list—32 graduates, with 12 scoring top marks—the best in Kirigakure’s history.  

"With so much talent now, I’ll leave this to others."  

Chapter 324: Peace and Turmoil  

"Yoru, I think you’re just trying to slack off!"  

Hearing Yoru’s response, Terumi Mei eyed him with suspicion.  

"Uh…"  

Yoru broke out in a cold sweat. Was it really so wrong to want a break?  

Besides, Kirigakure was thriving now, overflowing with talent. Did he really need to micromanage everything?  

"But whatever!" Mei sighed. "If you want to laze around, go ahead. You’ve already built Kirigakure into a powerhouse—we’re hardly lacking in capable people anymore!"  

These days, not only could Yoru afford to relax—even the Seven Ninja Swordsmen had stepped down from their official duties. Now, they spent their days training or wandering around without a care, no longer bound to ANBU missions.  

At most, they’d occasionally drop by the ninja academy to supervise practical lessons.  

Life was… comfortable.  

Mei couldn’t help but think—Maybe I should quit being Mizukage. I want to lounge around too!  

But alas, that was just a pipe dream.  

The next candidate for Mizukage hadn’t emerged yet.  

Sure, Yoru right in front of her was perfect for the role—but he had zero interest in taking the position. Mei could only sigh in resignation.  

"Choosing a successor for Mizukage… isn’t easy."  

With another long sigh, she buried herself back in paperwork.  

As for Yoru?  

"Ahh, the wind is particularly refreshing today. Another fine autumn day!"  

Lying sprawled on a tree branch in one of the training fields, hands tucked behind his head, he soaked in the peaceful atmosphere.  

A closer look would reveal a thin wire in his hand, trailing down to the water’s surface nearby.  

…Was this guy seriously fishing?  

"Nagato, no point hiding. I know you’re there."  

Yoru suddenly spoke up, glancing toward the woods behind him.  

A moment later, a man and woman emerged—Uzumaki Nagato and Konan.  

Nagato’s eyes remained closed, still unhealed, but his legs had fully recovered, allowing him to walk normally again.  

"So? What brings you here? You don’t strike me as the type to drop by for small talk."  

With a flick of his wrist, Yoru yanked the fishing line—hauling up a plump, wriggling fish.  

"I have a group of war refugees with nowhere to go. I need your help settling them."  

"Don’t worry—their backgrounds are clean. No spies."  

Even without his sight, Nagato seemed to perceive Yoru and his surroundings just fine. He tossed a scroll over.  

"You came all this way just for that?"  

Yoru caught the scroll, raising an eyebrow.  

"Resettling them is only part of why I’m here."  

Nagato spoke calmly, as if he’d long abandoned his past obsessions—no longer fixated on forcing peace upon the world.  

"True, under your leadership, the Land of Water and its allied nations—backed by Kirigakure’s strength—have entered an era of unprecedented stability."  

"But this peace… won’t last forever, will it?"  

"Have you found a better way to achieve lasting peace?"  

Hearing this, Yoru hopped down from the tree.  

"Not yet. Maybe in the future, but who knows? Did you come here to discuss peace theories?"  

Nagato nodded—then shook his head.  

"Yes, and no."  

"I wanted to explore a more comprehensive path to peace. But after much thought, I still haven’t found a better solution than the one you’re implementing now."  

"So I came to ask—do you have a better idea?"  

"But you’ve already answered: You don’t."  

Yoru exhaled deeply.  

"Peace… really is an eternal dilemma."  

"After traveling the world, what have you learned?"  

Nagato smiled bitterly.  

"Plenty. Just… nothing encouraging."  

"Beyond the Five Great Nations, the world is drowning in war, hatred, poverty—endless conflict. People live in misery, surrounded by deceit and betrayal."  

"Compared to that, your alliance territories… are practically paradise."  

"Here, peace doesn’t feel like an illusion."  

There was a quiet sorrow in Nagato’s voice.  

Yoru understood.  

From the very beginning, Nagato had founded the Akatsuki in pursuit of peace.  

Though he’d lost his way under Obito’s influence, after his defeat by Yoru, he’d been swayed back—rekindling his hope for peace.  

But after witnessing the world’s suffering firsthand…  

He’d realized just how impossible true peace might be.  

"Peace? Maybe only a god could achieve it."  

Yoru gathered kindling, lit a fire, and began roasting his freshly caught fish with practiced ease.  

"There’s a saying—  

"Where there are people, there’s conflict. And where there’s conflict, peace can never be eternal."  

"The best we can do is eliminate immediate threats. How long this peace lasts? That’s up to fate."  

Yoru knew better than anyone—permanent peace didn’t exist.  

War and peace were the twin melodies of human history.  

"Order breeds chaos; chaos breeds order."  

Expecting humanity to forever understand and accept one another?  

That was the real fantasy.  

Even Yoru couldn’t guarantee his successors would uphold his ideals beyond a few generations.  

"So… peace is just a fleeting illusion? Something that can never truly take root?"  

Nagato’s voice wavered with doubt.  

"Probably."  

Yoru sprinkled seasoning over the sizzling fish.  

Golden oil bubbled across its surface—much like peace itself.  

Fragile. Fleeting.  

Yet undeniably real while it lasted.  

"In this life, all we can do is our best now."  

"The future will handle itself. Maybe someday, someone extraordinary will achieve what we couldn’t."  

Yoru’s tone was light, accepting.  

He’d done all he could. No regrets.  

At the very least, he’d left the world a little better than he found it.  

True peace?  

Even a god couldn’t make it last forever.  

"I see… Thank you. I feel… lighter, hearing that."  

As Nagato turned to leave, he paused.  

"One more thing—Orochimaru’s been up to something lately. Causing quite a stir near the Land of Rice. Should I handle it, or will you?"  

Chapter 325: Just a Pathetic Jester  

"You handle it. After all, he was your subordinate once."  

Yoru tore off a piece of fish meat, speaking without even turning his head.  

What was the point of keeping Nagato and the others around?  

Wasn’t it to expand his reach in maintaining world peace?  

Sure, Yoru was powerful—but not so powerful that he could appear anywhere at will.  

That’s why he needed allies.  

The Uchiha brothers (Itachi and Sasuke), Nagato and Konan, and even the other former Akatsuki members he’d subdued—they all served that purpose.  

Back home in Kirigakure, he had also assembled two specialized units.  

The Maritime Defense Unit, led by Haku, Kimimaro, Zabuza, Kisame, and Suigetsu.  

And the Land Covert Ops Unit, managed by Yagura and Utakata, working in the shadows to maintain order across the shinobi world.  

Of course, Yoru was about to gain a third unit—the Wood Release Clone Corps.  

In his vision, this force would become the backbone of global peacekeeping.  

Their production, training, and maintenance costs would be the most efficient.  

But Yoru was also prepared for the inevitable complications.  

The moment human cloning—a forbidden technique—was unveiled, countless people would covet it.  

Because embedded in that technology was something everyone desired: immortality.  

Who wouldn’t crave eternal life?  

But that was just one issue.  

Emotional control, power regulation—these aspects would require extensive testing before mass deployment.  

Until then, anything could go wrong.  

The most likely disaster? Rampaging clones. And the chaos that would follow.  

Meanwhile, in the Unnoticed Minor Nation of Kaiko no Kuni… 

"This world is too stable. It doesn’t suit my ambitions. I need to stir up some chaos."  

A crippled old man grinned at the massive tree before him, his eyes alight with madness.  

"With these corpses… and the technique I obtained from Orochimaru… I can start a war."  

"Good. The moment of my triumph draws near."  

In a whisper, he added:  

"Why shouldn’t the shinobi world have a new ruler?"  

Orochimaru’s Hideout, Land of Rice… 

"Lord Orochimaru, why agree to cooperate with that nobody? And why trade our perfected Edo Tensei for his worthless offer?"  

Kabuto adjusted his glasses, watching as Orochimaru—weakened from yet another body transfer—lay motionless.  

"Heh."  

Despite his frailty, Orochimaru’s smirk was as confident as ever.  

"Let him cause havoc. Let the world burn."  

"More chaos means more test subjects—and a faster path to immortality for me."  

"Besides…" His eyes gleamed. "He would want this too. A perfect trial for the next generation."  

Kabuto frowned. "But what if this Ienojō actually succeeds? What if he turns the tables on us?"  

"Kukuku…" Orochimaru coughed out a laugh. "You underestimate Yoru too much."  

His voice sharpened. "Even if all four major villages united against Kirigakure and its allies, they’d still lose."  

"Ienojō is a fool."  

"Even if I gave him Edo Tensei, strong warriors’ DNA, and thousands of White Zetsu—he’d still be crushed."  

"Especially since some of those ‘warriors’… are beings neither of us can control."  

"If he somehow wins, it’d mean the heavens themselves sided with him. But even then—Yoru and the Five Great Nations won’t just watch."  

Kabuto nodded slowly. "Still… we’ve been watched lately. Scouts keep detecting unfamiliar chakra nearby."  

Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed. "Yoru’s men?"  

"Tch. His instincts are sharp. To notice our little game so soon…"  

But Orochimaru Was Wrong. 

The ones tracking him weren’t Yoru’s forces—  

"STOP THEM!"  

"DON’T LET THEM THROUGH!"  

"ARGH—!"  

Screams erupted outside the hideout as two overwhelming chakra signatures approached.  

Orochimaru’s pupils shrank in recognition.  

"Long time no see, Orochimaru."  

A flurry of paper swirled into the room, forming into a cold-faced woman with purple hair—Konan.  

"The Angel of Amegakure… So you survived."  

Orochimaru’s gaze flicked to the doorway, where a red-haired young man stepped in.  

Nagato.  

"Tch. I thought I sensed you. Should I call you Pain, then?"  

Nagato’s eyes were ice. "Disappointed I’m alive?"  

"Not disappointed. Just… curious." Orochimaru smirked. "To what do I owe this visit?"  

(Though he could guess why they were here.)  

What puzzled him was—why Nagato?  

If Yoru or another Kage had come, he’d understand.  

But Nagato?  

What stake did he have in this?  

"You know exactly why."  

Nagato’s voice was a blade.  

"What deal did you make with Ienojō?"  

"What are you planning?"