104-106

Chapter 104: Tanuki, Wolf, Eagle 

“Sounds good.” 

Facing Chihaya Tō’s invitation, Hikari flashed a fake smile. 

Learning medical ninjutsu from him seemed like a solid opportunity. But she hadn’t forgotten that day at the hospital, when she saw the terrifying greed and desire glowing above his head. 

That intense emotion was like a massive underground cavern, so dark not a speck of light could be seen. 

After leaving the hospital, she kept tabs on him with her Byakugan for a while. 

The medical report about her on his desk, the cryptic scribbles on white paper—it all pointed to one thing: 

This guy’s got secrets, and he’s plotting something against her. 

As a Kage Bunshin (Shadow Clone), her core duty—beyond helping the real Hikari train—was to clear obstacles and sniff out danger for her. 

Letting a clone face danger was a hundred times better than risking the real deal. 

“Is your house far, Chihaya-sensei?” Hikari asked, feigning innocence. 

“Konoha’s city center real estate isn’t cheap,” Chihaya Tō replied with a wry, broke-guy smile, his cheeks dimpling. He swapped his white coat for casual clothes and led Hikari out of Konoha Hospital, one behind the other. 

They walked down the street. 

Golden autumn leaves crunched under their shoes with a crisp snap. 

It was the weekend, so the streets lacked the usual hustle and exhaustion. 

A chubby middle-aged man ducked into an izakaya with a buddy, arm around his shoulder. Teenage girls in short skirts, flashing pale legs, giggled as they passed. Chihaya Tō kept his eyes down, trudging like a camel hauling cargo across a desert. 

Above his head, two emotional glows—one good, one evil—clashed like black and white clouds on a rainy day. 

Hikari followed, hands behind her back, her limited chakra flowing gently. 

“Ninja Academy Hikari” got the least chakra, barely worth mentioning. Next was “Yin-ton Hikari,” not a training priority. 

Since today was a lesson day, this clone got the most chakra—about a third of the real Hikari’s, which, given her high-quality chakra, was more than an average Jōnin’s total. 

Her Byakugan locked onto Chihaya Tō’s scrawny frame. His chakra was even less than this clone’s, and his physical stats were pitiful. If he made one wrong move, he’d eat a lightning strike strong enough to drop a Jōnin. 

“Chihaya-sensei, what’s the difference between the life energy in medical ninjutsu and actual human life force?” Hikari asked, suppressing the killing intent sparked by her lightning. 

Chihaya Tō paused, then answered while walking: 

“It’s simple—one’s fake, the other’s real.” 

“What’s that mean?” 

Hikari narrowed her eyes, a spark of thought flickering. 

“Think about it. Is the water you make with Suiton (Water Release) real water? Can you drink it to quench your thirst? If you can, it’s real. If not, it’s fake. 

Medical ninjutsu is Yang-ton (Yang Release). It’s just chakra that looks like life force—way different from the real thing.” 

“But Suiton chakra can control real water,” Hikari countered. 

“You don’t think medical ninjutsu’s healing comes entirely from that fake life force, do you? That’d burn through way too much chakra!” 

Chihaya Tō glanced back at Hikari, who seemed to get it, and kept walking. 

“You can’t save someone who’s lost their life force with medical ninjutsu. There are exceptions, though—if you’re willing to pour your own life force into someone, you might bring them back.” 

Injecting life force? 

Isshō Tensei no Jutsu (One’s Own Life Reincarnation)? 

Hikari’s eyes lit up, instantly recalling Chiyo’s secret revival technique used on Gaara. 

Converting chakra into life force was a rare skill in the ninja world, but manipulating someone else’s life force with medical ninjutsu? Way easier. 

She’d been fixated on converting tailed beast chakra into life force, but that was a huge leap. 

What if she skipped that step for now? Used medical ninjutsu to siphon someone else’s life force and channel it into her Hachimon Tonkō (Eight Gates)? That could work. 

Using someone else’s ready-made life force was less complex, didn’t require human sacrifices, and avoided tangling with tailed beasts. 

A carp’s life force, for instance, looked pretty lively to her. 

Start small—siphon life force from regular animals to neutralize her Shikotsumyaku (Dead Bone Pulse) crisis. Then, later, figure out chakra-to-life-force conversion. Totally doable. 

Big help, Chihaya-sensei. 

Her jumbled thoughts cleared, ideas sparking like fireworks. Hikari mulled over the feasibility, and both fell into a heavy silence. 

Crunch, crunch! 

Dry leaves crackled underfoot. 

The evening autumn breeze carried a crisp, peculiar chill. 

Hikari rubbed her cool arms and looked up. 

Unnoticed, they’d walked far. The streets were empty, even the pavement fading into a rough dirt path. 

The roadside flora grew wild, massive tree canopies hiding distant buildings, casting dense shadows on the ground. 

Chihaya Tō kept walking ahead, unhurried, with no sign of stopping. 

“Still not there?” Hikari asked. 

“My place is pretty out of the way,” he replied, his voice colder, more detached—maybe his true colors showing. 

Following him, Hikari scanned the surroundings. At some point, twelve glaring chakra signatures had surrounded them. 

Crunch! 

A black ninja boot crushed leaves to dust. Hikari slowed to a stop, her fingers behind her back sparking with arcs. “Doesn’t seem that remote. You’ve got plenty of neighbors.” 

Whoosh! 

Before her words settled, a gleaming shuriken spun out from the dense foliage, aiming for her cheek. 

Probing with a shuriken before a fight—was that some unspoken ninja rule? Hikari inwardly scoffed at the textbook tactic. 

Lightning surged through her nervous system, her Byakugan’s pure pupil power enveloping the space. 

Buzz~ 

Raiton Chakra Mode and Byakugan worked in sync. 

Her accelerated reflexes and superhuman dynamic vision made the spinning shuriken look like a fan with its power cut, slowing to a crawl. She could even count the four nicks on its blades—definitely a veteran’s weapon. 

Hikari eyed the twelve masked figures emerging around her, waiting until the shuriken reached her. 

Three fingers pinched it steady. 

The high-impact shuriken sat tamely in her palm, like a fallen leaf. 

Her fingers hooked the shuriken’s central hole. 

Zzt zzt! 

Raiton surged from her heart. 

High-energy particles activated her muscle cells, fibers contracting in unison, raw physical power pooling at her fingertips. 

Above her, at the top of the lush canopy, a woman blended with the leaves, motionless, her chakra core flickering like a firefly—or a peacock flashing its tail to draw attention. 

It worked. 

Hikari’s Byakugan pupils contracted, locking onto the enemy’s chakra core. 

Her tendons snapped taut like a bowstring. 

Power surged from her feet—calves, thighs, torso, arms, fingertips—forming a perfect kinetic chain. 

Snap! 

Boom! 

Her tendons vibrated like a hundred-stone bow firing. 

The shuriken blurred into nothingness. 

“—!” 

“Ngh~” 

The masked ninja hidden in the canopy looked down in disbelief. 

Her hair fell over her chest, but it couldn’t stem the fountain of blood. 

Her heart was torn open by an unseen force, a star-shaped cavity the size of a bowl gushing blood. Golden sunlight pierced her back, illuminating her eyes. 

It was her first time seeing sunlight like this. 

So… fast! 

Boom! 

Crash! 

Her body plummeted from the canopy, smashing through countless dry leaves before hitting the ground, blood soaking the leaves a dark red. 

No mourning, no roars. 

The eleven remaining shadows fanned out, surrounding Hikari. Their masks’ swirling patterns spun in the leafy shadows, like eyes peering into her soul. 

ChihAYA Tō, still cold and detached, kept walking against the crowd, leaving only a frail silhouette. 

Four Jōnin-level chakra signatures, seven Tokubetsu Jōnin. 

Quite the lineup. 

This deathly silence—was it Root? 

Lightning popped between her fingers. The silver-haired blind girl tilted her head, her smile more chilling than cold indifference—pure, innocent menace. 

“Something up, folks?” 

Her answer was a wave of blade-sharp killing intent. 

Whoosh! Whoosh! 

Two Anbu ninja, wielding kunai, burst from the group. Their high-speed forms blurred into black lines, closing in on Hikari in a blink. 

At the same time, four Jōnin wove hand signs so fast they left afterimages. Eerie Yin-ton power crossed the space, joined by unknown Doton (Earth Release), Suiton (Water Release), and Futon (Wind Release) techniques. 

A piercing whistle cut the air. 

Clank clank clank! 

Five steel cables shot from the sleeves of five Tokubetsu Jōnin, arcing from different angles, their ends glowing with faint blue chakra. 

The glow traced intricate patterns, like a mad beast lunging for the blue figure at the center. 

Taijutsu, Genjutsu, Ninjutsu, sealing techniques—it was like Hikari had stumbled into a suffocating, meticulously woven trap, the killing intent peaking in an instant. 

Her heart pounded. 

Byakugan!!! 

Bang! 

Like a glass cup shattering on concrete, the eerie Yin-ton power crumbled under her pupil power. The unknown Genjutsu collapsed into scattered light before it could take hold. 

The two Taijutsu attackers finally reached her. 

One leaped, slashing a knife at her Baihui acupoint. The other, crouching, thrust a kunai at her abdomen, like a ravenous wolf. 

Zzt zzt! 

Blinding lightning flared, a white glow flooding their vision. 

A feral glint flashed in Hikari’s eyes. She tilted her head, dodging the overhead strike. Her black ninja boot stomped the blade aimed at her gut, using it as leverage to spin and slam her right leg into the crouched Anbu’s neck. 

Her boot carved a half-moon arc, a black crescent in the air. 

Crack! 

Blood and bone fragments sprayed. 

The Anbu’s neck snapped under the kick, his head dangling at a grotesque angle, blood-soaked like a red lantern hung for the New Year. 

A cyan glow brewed in her mouth. Her pink tongue flicked at the Anbu inches from her face. 

Buzz! 

In an instant, the Anbu was torn in half by Futon, collapsing to the ground. 

So fast his brain hadn’t registered the split, his limbs crawled left and right, oblivious. 

In a quarter of a second, Hikari had cut down two Taijutsu-focused Tokubetsu Jōnin. 

Only then did the assorted Ninjutsu and sealing cables arrive. 

Boom! 

Suiton, Futon, and Doton clashed, their chakra erupting in a terrifying shockwave. The two corpses were shredded by stray Futon chakra, blood and flesh mixing with dust. The steel cables shattered under the blast. 

Rumble— 

Trees toppled, leaves scattered. 

Thick dust clouded the center of the field. 

No one asked pointless questions like “Is she done?” The Futon ninja quickly formed three simplified seals, spitting a gust of wind. 

Whoosh~ 

The harmless breeze cleared the dust, revealing a massive, blood-red pit. 

The center was a gory mess of flesh and mud, indistinguishable. 

“She’s dead,” the Futon Anbu said, colder than a northern glacier, scanning the pit where their comrades lay. 

“No way she’s dead,” Chihaya Tō said with absolute certainty, staring at the pit. 

As Hikari’s doctor, no one knew better than him how freakish her survival skills were. A wound exposing her lungs? She’d sleep it off, be wheeled around the hospital by the Sandaime the next day, and discharge three days later. 

Her Yang-infused chakra was so potent it could make plants sprout just by being near it. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if she could regrow flesh in hours, even if skinned and deboned. 

“Find her, quick!” 

The Genjutsu Anbu, shaking off the mental backlash, gritted through throbbing temples and cast a sensory technique. 

“There!” 

His shout drew all eyes. Following his finger, they saw her. 

Twenty meters up, on a bent tree branch, a small figure stood on one leg, cloaked in black and crackling with lightning, overlooking them. 

Too far to see her expression, but the heavy, tangible pressure crushed their hearts, making it hard to breathe. 

Genjutsu? Useless. 

The stealth-assassin “Cat Tanuki” was one-shotted by a shuriken. The speed-specialist “Wolf” got his neck snapped, and “Eagle” was inexplicably torn in half. 

Her speed was unreal—regular Ninjutsu and sealing techniques couldn’t catch a Taijutsu ninja this fast. 

Per Chihaya Tō’s intel, her recovery and defense were top-tier. 

Add her no-hand-sign Suiton, an unknown Kekkei Genkai, and possible Hachimon Tonkō—she was an enemy with no weaknesses! 

Her dossier flashed through their minds like a carousel, their breaths growing heavy and strained. 

Chapter 105: Zero Frame Start 

Drip! 

Drip! 

The scent of rust carried on the wind. 

Crimson blood dripped from the sky, splattering onto wilted, yellowed leaves, leaving jagged brown stains. 

“Her chakra fluctuations are weakening—she’s injured!” 

The genjutsu-specialized Anbu clapped their hands together, gazing up at the figure perched on the treetop. Their voice couldn’t hide a trace of joy, a release of pent-up tension. 

Their relied-upon genjutsu had been shattered in a mere second, and the backlash of mental energy left them with a splitting headache. On top of that, as a sensory ninja highly attuned to chakra, they could tell that while the opponent’s chakra reserves weren’t vast, the strange, glowing purple chakra radiating from them exerted immense mental pressure.  

Now, that pressure had finally eased. 

The enemy had been wounded under their coordinated assault. The injury wasn’t severe, but it proved one thing: the opponent wasn’t as invincible as they’d feared. The notion of an enemy without weaknesses was merely an illusion born from their ferocious taijutsu. 

“Just a paper tiger,” the Earth-style Anbu’s low voice echoed through the air. 

The remaining eight Anbu didn’t speak, but the heavy breathing in the tense atmosphere noticeably softened. Clearly, the fact that this enemy had taken down three Special Jonin in a single clash had shaken them to their core. They weren’t afraid of death, but they feared dying without meaning. The Root was the unseen hero, sacrificing everything for Konoha in the shadows. They couldn’t allow themselves to be crushed like insignificant bugs, their lives rendered meaningless. 

On the other side, standing atop the treetop, Hikari gazed down at the ant-like Anbu below, lost in quiet thought. 

As a Kage Bunshin, her combat strength wasn’t much weaker than her mainល 

System: main body. Especially since she couldn’t use the “bone” aspect of her Kekkei Genkai, the Kaguya clan’s Shikotsumyaku, for the time being, her only shortcomings compared to her real body were stamina and defense. 

She was an elite Jonin, while the three Anbu she’d taken down were merely Special Jonin—two full ranks below her, a gap wide enough to temporarily ignore their numerical advantage. Back in Kirigakure, shinobi like Mist Crow and Blood Dog had pushed her to the brink, but now she could dispatch them with ease. 

Of course, ninja ranks weren’t absolute. Factors like environment, specialization, and compatibility could lead to upsets. But for Hikari, such concerns barely applied. As one of the rare all-around shinobi in the ninja world, she was the one who overpowered others across ranks. Defeating her was a near-impossible task. 

Her toes tapped lightly against the sturdy tree trunk. Sticky blood dripped slowly from the soles of her black shoes—the remnants of the Anbu she’d just killed with a single kick. 

If she were her main body, she’d have used a Water-style jutsu to clean her shoes by now. But after spending much of her chakra training in medical ninjutsu on that carp earlier in the day, followed by this lightning-fast ambush, her chakra reserves were down to less than a third. She couldn’t afford to be so cavalier anymore. 

If a Kage Bunshin’s chakra ran too low, it would dispel on its own. Before that happened, she needed to probe as much as possible about the enemy’s intentions for her main body. 

“Doctor Chihaya, care to explain why these Anbu are attacking me?” Hikari called out, looking down at Chihaya Tou. 

These Anbu, who treated their comrades’ lives like grass, were clearly from the Root. Chihaya Tou was likely one of them. Hikari was certain she’d never crossed Shimura Danzo. The plan to infiltrate the Root and steal Hashirama’s cells was still just a thought in her mind. There was no reason for the Root to target her. 

Chihaya Tou’s lips curled into a slight smile as they carefully put on a pair of glasses from their pocket. 

“A certain someone admires your skills and wants you to join our organization.” 

“The Anbu?” Hikari asked. 

“No, you may not have heard of us. We’re a branch of the Anbu called the Root!” Chihaya said, their voice tinged with pride. Several Root members instinctively puffed out their chests, their faces glowing with a sickly sense of honor. 

Hikari nodded slowly. That half-crazed demeanor wasn’t something other organizations could easily mimic. As she’d suspected, these were indeed Root members, acting under Danzo’s orders to recruit her. 

But Danzo’s logic baffled her. The Root didn’t recruit talent by attacking them with lethal force. Shouldn’t they have tried persuasion first, then coercion, before resorting to violence? Why had they skipped straight to the final step with her? 

“Your invitation methods are… unique,” Hikari remarked dryly. 

Chihaya pushed their glasses up with their middle finger. “The Root’s standards are strict, so we conduct a little pop quiz.” 

“I never agreed to join your shady organization,” Hikari shot back. 

“Whether you join or not isn’t my concern. We’re just following orders.” 

Hikari frowned, silently sizing up their intentions. Her chakra was poised, ready for action, as she waited for their next move. Defense was easier than offense—it would stretch out the fight and conserve her chakra. Every piece of intel she could gather about their secret techniques would make her future mission to steal Hashirama’s cells from the Root that much safer. 

Her eyes narrowed, her Byakugan shifting to the rear. In the distance, a massive chakra signature flared like a blazing torch, yet it carried an eerie, sinister aura. The figure approached swiftly, reaching the battlefield in mere moments. 

Thud. 

Thud… thud. The sound of a cane striking the ground echoed with authority, crushing fallen leaves without resistance. The slow, heavy, cold sound was entirely different from the crisp, rhythmic tapping of Hikari’s blind cane. 

Whoosh! 

At the sound of that distinctive cane, the lifeless Root members’ eyes suddenly burned with fervor. Ignoring the enemy above, they dropped to one knee, facing the approaching figure. Even the ever-mysterious Chihaya Tou lowered their head slightly in respect. 

Hikari turned to face the newcomer. 

An old man in a gray-black kimono approached, leaning on his cane. Though not tall, his physique beneath the kimono was robust. His short brown hair and the forked scar on his chin stood out, and his narrow eyes locked onto Hikari atop the treetop. His left eye was dark and deep. His right eye glowed crimson, with a four-bladed pinwheel spinning rapidly within. 

That’s… Shisui’s Beppu Tensen! 

Hikari’s eyes widened, her Byakugan hidden beneath the black cloth flashing crimson in shock. 

“You’re under Danzo’s Beppu Tensen?” she demanded. 

At the Hatake clan’s training ground, the setting sun cast long shadows across the barren field, painting two faint silhouettes. 

Hikari stared in shock at her Yang-style Kage Bunshin, whose ashen gray eyes—identical to her own—had transformed into a four-bladed pinwheel, glowing blood-red. 

Activating her Byakugan, she saw a mass of abnormal Yin-style chakra occupying the clone’s brain like a spider, its transparent spikes piercing the clone’s mind without causing damage. The spikes seemed illusory, a hallmark of the legendary Beppu Tensen—the strongest genjutsu, capable of altering one’s will. 

“Danzo heard that Root ninja say I was injured, assumed I was the real body, and used Beppu Tensen without a word,” the clone explained, her fingers brushing her eye sockets. The kaleidoscope pattern in her eyes gleamed, her lips curling slightly in amusement. 

Hikari shook her head, chuckling in disbelief. A mere Kage Bunshin had tricked the most powerful genjutsu in existence. 

“Why are your eyes stuck in Beppu Tensen’s state?” Hikari asked. 

“I’m not sure,” the Yang-style Hikari admitted, shaking her head. “Maybe because I’m just a mass of chakra, not an organic being. Beppu Tensen keeps trying to probe my will but has nowhere to latch onto. It can’t alter my will, and without resistance, it doesn’t dissipate. It’s stuck in an ‘active’ state.” 

“Basically, you glitched it,” Hikari summed up. 

“Danzo didn’t hesitate to use it. What’s its effect?” 

The clone’s expression turned serious. “Danzo’s Beppu Tensen is different from Itachi’s. For one, its range is insane—at least fifty meters, farther than most elemental jutsu. You’d have to be extremely careful in close combat. And it’s fast—no attack trajectory.” 

“No trajectory?” Hikari asked. 

“None,” the clone confirmed, her crimson kaleidoscope eyes gazing skyward as she recalled the moment. “With my Lightning-style chakra mode reaction speed and Byakugan’s insight, I’d have seen any projectile. The moment his kaleidoscope locked onto me, a mass of Yin-style chakra appeared in my brain. No chance to resist.” 

“Like the Shadow Imitation Technique—a mechanism-based jutsu,” Hikari mused, her expression grim. A range of over fifty meters and a simple targeting mechanism meant she’d need to move faster than a kaleidoscope could track to evade it. “It doesn’t require eye contact, does it?” 

“I was wearing my blindfold. I could see him, but he couldn’t see my eyes. So, no, it’s not eye contact-based.” 

“Tch, a semi-lock-on technique, then,” Hikari muttered, racking her brain for a counter. The only option seemed to be using a Kage Bunshin to bait it out. 

“It’s not as strong as Itachi’s Beppu Tensen, though,” the clone said with a smile. 

“You can sense its effect without it fully activating?” 

The clone blinked, the pinwheel in her red eyes spinning slowly. “It’s lodged in my brain. I can’t use it, but I can glean some key details. If it was useless, why would I bother keeping it? I’d have dispelled myself to show you my memories if I wasn’t worried about losing this precious power.” 

“Fine, you’ve earned your stripes. Keep going,” Hikari said, waving her hand. 

The clone grinned, then continued. “Danzo’s Beppu Tensen isn’t permanent. The Yin-style chakra in your brain adjusts your will based on the caster’s commands. It’s not a forced mental imprint but a subtle influence, mimicking your own thoughts. The more you resist, the weaker it is. It fades when the chakra runs out or if you realize you’re under a genjutsu. But traces of its power linger. If not cleared, it can be reactivated with eye power, subtly influencing you again.” 

“That makes sense,” Hikari said, piecing it together. She’d wondered why Danzo didn’t use Beppu Tensen to control Sarutobi Hiruzen. A short-term hypnosis wouldn’t work on the Hokage and would expose Danzo’s theft of Shisui’s kaleidoscope. The Hyuga clan’s resistance to genjutsu also made it less invincible than she’d thought. Otherwise, Danzo would already be the Fifth Hokage. 

“So, Danzo just let you go?” Hikari asked. 

“That’s the other thing,” the clone said, sticking out her tongue to reveal black patterns resembling I Ching trigrams. 

“The Tongue Calamity Eradication Technique?” Hikari gasped. “You joined the Root?” 

The clone’s mind was identical to hers, yet Hikari was stunned by her own audacity.  

“My essence is chakra mimicry. My brain and body are half-real, half-illusion. Genjutsu that alters the mind or seals that bind the body don’t work on me. Danzo’s efforts were futile. As for joining the Root…”  

The Yang-style Hikari gazed at the sunset, her pale skin tinged orange by the light, her expression distant as she recalled the scene. 

In a secluded, ravaged forest, yellowed leaves swirled to the ground, covering blood-soaked red leaves. A pit of bloody mud held shattered bones and kunai. Nine shadowy figures knelt on one knee, gazing reverently at the old man with the cane. 

A shadow dropped from the sky. 

Boom! 

The ground caved into two deep pits, the shockwave scattering buried leaves outward. Danzo leaned on his cane, coldly staring at the figure in the dust. 

A Wind-style Anbu transformed into a gust, appearing before Danzo in a flash, spitting a Wind-style jutsu to blow back the scattered leaves and dust. 

Buzz! 

The figure in the pit stood tall. Winds clashed and tore, splitting the dust and leaves evenly before shredding them into fragments that fell in an arc around the figure. 

Hikari stood at the center, her hidden kaleidoscope eyes locked with Danzo’s narrow gaze, their three four-bladed pinwheels spinning in sync. 

As the dust settled, Chihaya Tou stepped forward, standing half a step behind Danzo’s left side, the picture of loyalty. 

“Lord Danzo, Hikari has been brought to you.” 

“Well done, Chihaya.” 

Chapter 106 

Danzō cast a sidelong glance at Chihaya Toru beside him, whose sunken cheeks bore a creepy smile. 

This guy was always like this—whenever he got his hands on a new test subject, he’d get so excited he’d lose himself. Back when Danzō worked with Orochimaru, Chihaya even wanted to experiment on him. 

If Danzō hadn’t returned in time after receiving that report, Chihaya Toru would probably be the same age as Hikari right now. 

He pulled his gaze back. 

Looking at Hikari standing before him, Danzō’s dusty, clouded eyes finally flickered with a spark of light. 

How could he let a genius ninja with such extraordinary talent fall into the hands of that weakling Sarutobi? 

That’s how it had always been. 

One step behind, and you’re always behind. 

Sarutobi Hiruzen, that bastard, stole the position of Hokage from him. His life, his ideals, everything he ever dreamed of—it all crumbled, leaving him to waste away in the shadows until now. 

Thinking about it now, it was laughable. 

What did it matter if you were one step ahead or one step behind? 

Whether it was the Hokage title he’d coveted for years or the genius girl standing before him now, everything Sarutobi Hiruzen had taken from him over the years, Danzō would take back, piece by piece, with his own hands! 

And it would all start with Hikari! 

Danzō’s right eye glowed intensely, his pupil power radiating a shimmering illusion that illuminated Hikari’s figure. 

His Betsutenjin (Otherworldly God) technique couldn’t permanently alter someone’s will, but its activation was simple, it consumed little chakra, and its cooldown was only about six months. 

If used repeatedly on someone over time, the effect on their will wouldn’t be much weaker than the other Betsutenjin. 

He didn’t want to treat Hikari like some disposable resource. 

That would be far too wasteful. 

If he could first bring her secretly into Ne (Root), and slowly brainwash and mold her while she was still young… 

In just a few years, the disciple Sarutobi Hiruzen had painstakingly trained would become Danzō’s sharpest blade, ready to strike at his old friend’s heart at the perfect moment. 

Imagining the shock and regret on Sarutobi’s face when that day came, Danzō’s wrinkled lips curled slightly, a hint of wicked satisfaction creeping across his aged face. 

He couldn’t wait to see that scene. 

“Everything just now was merely a test. Now, I grant you the honor of joining Ne. Serve me and dedicate your strength to Konoha!” 

“Who… are you?” 

Hikari let the Yin Release power of Betsutenjin flood her mind, her Shikotsumyaku (Dead Bone Pulse) subtly adjusting her facial muscles to display a perfectly genuine look of confusion. 

At the same time, her right hand touched her forehead, and she shook her head slightly, as if struggling against some invisible force. 

“I am the leader of Ne, the Hokage’s advisor, and the one you will serve for the rest of your life—Shimura Danzō.” 

Danzō extended his left hand slowly as he spoke. 

The surrounding Ne members, hearing Shimura Danzō’s name, immediately bowed their heads in ingrained obedience, as if even hearing his name was an act of overstepping. 

Hikari continued to feign holding her forehead, her expression one of struggle, but her mind raced with strategies. 

Danzō had used a Mangekyō Sharingan on her. If she told Sarutobi Hiruzen about it, would he confront Danzō? 

The answer was obvious—he wouldn’t. 

Their decades-long friendship wasn’t a joke. Danzō had sent assassins after Sarutobi before, and Sarutobi forgave him without a second thought. 

When Danzō experimented with Mokuton (Wood Release) and Hashirama’s cells, creating Yamato, and was found out, nothing happened to him, did it? 

Would Sarutobi really kill Danzō just for Uchiha Shisui’s Sharingan? 

With Sarutobi’s indecisive nature, the most likely outcome would be forcing Danzō to hand over the Mangekyō, maybe a stern warning, and that would be the end of it. 

But Hikari, the victim, would get nothing—no compensation—and she’d make an enemy of Danzō, a mentally unstable foe, before she was ready. 

That wasn’t worth it. 

If she was going to clash with Danzō, she needed to get something out of it first. 

Her Gyaku Hachimon (Reverse Eight Gates) was still in the experimental stage, far from complete. Her Shikotsumyaku was evolving daily, rapidly transforming into Haikotsu (Ash Bone), and the danger was imminent. 

Wasn’t this the perfect chance to steal Hashirama’s cells? 

Hikari glanced at the glowing emotions above Danzō’s head. 

Expectation, malice, and a faint trace of trust. 

For someone as paranoid as Danzō, trust didn’t come easily. 

But he did trust himself—his eyes, his dōjutsu, his Betsutenjin, which he’d likely tested multiple times without issue. 

Back on the treetops, she’d already confirmed that Betsutenjin had no effect on her Kage Bunshin (Shadow Clone). 

Could she use this hard-earned trust to infiltrate Ne and steal Hashirama’s cells and their research? 

She wanted to try. 

A Kage Bunshin was expendable. Whether this plan succeeded or failed, she wouldn’t lose much. If it worked, her real body’s dream of achieving a Sennin-tai (Sage Body) might actually come true. 

The confusion and struggle on Hikari’s face gradually faded. 

She took slow steps toward Danzō. 

Seeing this, the wrinkles at the corners of Danzō’s eyes deepened, his lips curling into a triumphant smirk. He raised his left hand, reaching for Hikari’s head, like a priest about to baptize a follower. 

Crunch! 

A leaf was crushed under her ninja sandal as Hikari stopped. She looked up at Danzō, unable to hide his smugness, and flashed a pure, innocent smile. 

“I… refuse.” 

“Why?” 

Danzō’s smile stiffened, his voice low, his narrow eyes brewing with killing intent. 

If Betsutenjin had failed, he’d have to bury Hikari here to prevent her from telling Sarutobi. 

Sensing the killing intent in their leader’s tone, the nine Ne members kneeling nearby stood, surrounding Hikari. Their chakra, laced with murderous intent, surged wildly, ready to tear her apart at a single command. 

“That’s my line, isn’t it?” 

Hikari spread her hands, her expression one of genuine surprise. “A random attack, a random invitation—why on earth would I join your organization and swear loyalty to you? You haven’t offered me a single benefit or even a decent reason!” 

Danzō’s eyes flickered, the windmill pattern in his right eye spinning faster. 

He could feel the technique working in her mind, and her behavior didn’t seem like someone unaffected by genjutsu. 

Not only did she not run, but she boldly walked into the encirclement and demanded benefits. This money-over-life attitude wasn’t something a clear-headed person would do. 

Betsutenjin was definitely working—it just wasn’t as effective on her for some reason. 

Danzō’s Mangekyō focused on Hikari’s covered eyes. 

Purple chakra was gathering there, clearly indicating she was using a sensory ninjutsu or some unknown dōjutsu. 

Could her “technique” be countering Betsutenjin? 

“Leader!” 

A genjutsu-specialized Ne member quickly stepped to Danzō’s side, whispering, “She’s highly resistant to my techniques.” 

He avoided saying “genjutsu” directly, wary of Hikari overhearing and growing suspicious. 

With his subordinate’s confirmation, Danzō was even more certain. 

Hikari was under Betsutenjin’s influence, but her resistance to genjutsu was strong, so the effect wasn’t as pronounced as it was on Ne’s test subjects. 

It made sense. 

She was a monster who killed an elite jōnin at six—having some unique traits was only natural. 

Danzō calmed himself. “A ninja is a tool that exists to complete missions. Emotions, names, pasts—they’re nothing but burdens. From now on, you need only be part of Ne, buried in the darkness, supporting Konoha’s prosperity—” 

“So where’s my benefit?” 

Hikari cut him off. 

She had no patience for his long-winded speech. 

Danzō and Sarutobi Hiruzen shared the same flaw—always preaching ideals and dreams without mentioning tangible benefits. Sarutobi was slightly better, at least using bonds of family and friendship to tie people down. 

This guy? He just called it all a burden. 

Glancing at the “nameless heroes” around her, visibly angered by her interruption, she wondered where Danzō found such fanatics. 

She could join Ne, but not as a mindless follower like these people. Danzō’s use of Betsutenjin showed he valued her—she had to leverage that to gain enough benefits. 

Anger wasn’t just rising in the Ne members; Danzō’s own emotional bubble churned above his head. 

His eyes bore into Hikari. 

He wanted to say there were no benefits and that refusing Ne meant death. 

But he couldn’t. 

She was Sarutobi’s prized disciple, the savior of the Ino-Shika-Chō heirs, the adopted daughter of Might Guy, and Konoha’s most celebrated genius. 

She wasn’t some gutter rat he could crush without consequence. 

Killing her would gain him nothing. His plan to have Sarutobi train a blade for him would fail, and his dream of reclaiming the Hokage title from Sarutobi would collapse at the first step. 

Danzō preached sacrifice and devotion, but when it came to his own choices, he was no different from Hikari. 

Despite their outward differences, they were both selfish pragmatists at heart. 

The reluctant glow above his head masked his anger. Having invested so much already, Danzō couldn’t accept a crushing defeat before even starting. 

“What benefits do you want?” 

Danzō narrowed his eyes, suppressing his killing intent. Get her into Ne first—there’d be plenty of time to brainwash her with Betsutenjin later. 

“Eh, now that I think about it, I’m not even sure what I need.” 

Seeing Danzō take the bait, Hikari’s heart leaped, though her strong physical control kept her smile in check. 

She shrugged, feigning regret. 

Not sure? 

Danzō’s forehead creased with three layers of wrinkles. He’d braced for her to demand the moon, but this unexpected answer caught him off guard. 

Yet, it made sense. 

As Sarutobi’s prized disciple, most of Konoha’s resources were at her fingertips. Ne might not have anything to tempt her with. 

Except… Danzō stroked the cross-shaped scar on his chin, his eyes glinting. “I hear from Chihaya you’ve been studying iryo-ninjutsu (medical ninjutsu) lately?” 

Hearing his name, Chihaya Toru, who’d been silent, raised an eyebrow but stayed behind Danzō, playing dead. 

He’d thought Betsutenjin would seal the deal, making Hikari a Ne member and erasing his role in leaking intel and setting traps. 

But things had shifted. 

Hikari seemed cornered, yet somehow held the upper hand. As the instigator and a non-combatant, he had to stay cautious of her potential retaliation, minimizing his presence. 

The three Ne bodies nearby hadn’t even gone cold yet! 

Hikari glanced at Chihaya Toru and said calmly, “Konoha’s full of people who know iryo-ninjutsu. I don’t need to join your group to learn it.” 

“Don’t you want to heal your eyes?” 

Danzō probed. 

His Mangekyō could see chakra flowing to her eyes, but eyes were windows for spiritual energy. Ninety percent of sensory ninjutsu and genjutsu in the ninja world were channeled through them. 

He couldn’t tell if her blindness was real or fake. 

“Congenital blindness—iryo-ninjutsu can’t fix it.” 

“Heh, that’s not necessarily true,” Danzō said, turning to Chihaya Toru. “Take it out.” 

“Yes.” 

Chihaya nodded, pulling a palm-sized scroll from his sleeve. 

The scroll unfurled, revealing the kanji for “Seal” surrounded by cryptic symbols. 

“Release!” 

Poof! 

Smoke billowed. 

A glass jar containing a strange chunk of flesh appeared in Chihaya’s hand. 

Hikari’s eyes locked onto it. 

Gurgle. 

Chihaya turned the jar, causing the viscous nutrient fluid inside to shift, bubbling as it flowed. 

Soon, the pale flesh, previously still, sprouted strange tendrils—whether branches or fleshy buds—slowly writhing toward the fluid’s flow. 

Hashirama’s cells! 

Though her pupils were clouded by the Mangekyō’s pattern, Hikari’s Byakugan still functioned. The vibrant green chakra glow formed a massive light source, dominating her vision. 

The chakra in this tiny piece of Hashirama’s cells surpassed even the flesh of the Three-Tails. 

Unbelievable. 

A human’s chakra rivaling that of a tailed beast, born from the Ten-Tails’ fragments. Was this the legendary Sennin-tai? 

Truly monstrous. 

Thump, thump, thump. Hikari barely controlled her racing heart. 

If she could harness chakra and vitality like Senju Hashirama’s, the bloodline disease from her Shikotsumyaku’s evolution would be easily resolved. 

With Byakugan, Shikotsumyaku, and a Sennin-tai combined, what kind of power would that unleash? 

“How’s that? You can sense its overwhelming vitality, can’t you?” 

Though Hikari stood still, her face betraying no change, Danzō knew her sensory abilities must be reeling from the power of Hashirama’s cells. 

“If even this can’t cure your condition, nothing in the world will,” Danzō said with supreme confidence. 

“I…” 

Hikari bit her lip, feigning a conflicted expression. 

Acting meant going all in. The closer she was to success, the more she couldn’t afford to get cocky. 

Seeing her tone soften, Danzō’s eyes narrowed, ready to deliver the final blow. “I hear you’re skilled in Fūton (Wind Release). Join Ne, and I’ll personally take you as my disciple, passing down my legacy. I could even groom you as Ne’s future leader.” 

“But I already have a teacher—” 

Hikari’s words struck a nerve. Danzō grabbed the jar of Hashirama’s cells from Chihaya, his stern face suddenly fervent. “Anything Sarutobi Hiruzen can teach, I can teach. But what I have, he could never dream of obtaining.” 

“Me or him—choose!” 

Unwillingness, anger, jealousy, inferiority, and a strange competitive drive—countless negative emotions burst forth, as if darkening the sky. 

Hikari hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Fine… Danzō-sensei.” 

The forest’s wind grew silent. 

Watching Hikari abandon Sarutobi Hiruzen for him, Danzō couldn’t hide the golden glow of triumph above his head, no matter how he tried to keep his face stern. 

Hiruzen. 

Orochimaru chose to work with me back then, and now Hikari has joined my side. 

This time, I win.