062 Reborn as the Third Kazekage

Kanashii Kongo had recently developed a severe skin condition. From his neck to his chest, thick patches of scaly psoriasis had taken hold. The unbearable itch tormented him day and night. He scratched at it constantly, flakes of dead skin falling off in layers. No matter how much he clawed—until his skin bled, until his wounds oozed—there was no relief.

And once the wounds opened up, yellow pus would seep out. Amegakure's constant rainfall and damp climate only made matters worse. No matter how many medical-nin he consulted, no matter how many ointments he applied, it was the same cycle: scabs formed, healed, and then another layer of thick, dry skin would take their place. It was an endless torment.

But his real headache wasn't the skin disease.

Ever since he had taken over as the leader of Amegakure, something had felt… off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the feeling lingered.

At present, Amegakure was free from the ravages of war. There were no more starving refugees causing unrest. Relations with neighboring lands were peaceful, and the village treasury was full. The amount of paperwork on his desk never exceeded ten pages. At most, he needed an hour to go through everything.

Every month, the Hourglass Group deposited a generous two million ryō in taxes into Amegakure's coffers, and he had full discretion on how to spend it. Festivals and holidays came with private gifts on the side. His main responsibility these days? Paying respects to the family of the previous Amegakure leader.

A peaceful rule. Hands-off governance.

There were even moments when Kanashii Kongo entertained the thought that he might surpass Hanzō of the Salamander as the most successful leader Amegakure had ever seen.

But Kanashii Kongo was no fool.

He wasn't some incompetent bureaucrat content to laze about. Sure, he had never seen much battlefield action and had rarely taken on missions—his background was in administration, serving as a mission dispatcher. But he had spent years at Hanzō's side, first as an advisor, then later as his bodyguard and personal steward. (Though, in truth, he was more of a steward than a bodyguard.)

And now, his instincts were screaming at him. Something was wrong. He just didn't know what.

That answer, however, was about to reveal itself.

The Peace Declaration and the Military Exercise

During his inauguration ceremony as Amegakure's leader, the Third Kazekage, Arashi, and the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, announced the Wind-Fire Peace Declaration. To reinforce this new alliance, they planned a joint military exercise in the Land of Rivers.

And just like that, his big day was overshadowed.

Kanashii Kongo was, naturally, displeased. But what could he do? These two men weren't just powerful—their influence was like a mountain next to his own insignificant existence. He wasn't stupid enough to openly challenge them.

Besides, how had he even become the leader of Amegakure? Wasn't it thanks to the backing of the Hourglass Group, pulling strings from behind the scenes?

Still, he wasn't one to sit idle. Thinking on his feet, he seized the moment and made an official statement:

Amegakure fully supports the Wind-Fire Peace Declaration!

To prove his commitment, he pledged to send 800 shinobi to participate in the exercise.

In his mind, this was a brilliant move.

First, by publicly supporting the declaration and contributing troops, Amegakure would be seen as a key participant—raising his prestige as leader. It gave his inauguration a sense of legitimacy.

Second, aligning with Konoha and Sunagakure was a smart strategic move. By picking a side, he ensured that Amegakure had powerful allies. With two major villages backing him, who would dare move against them?

And lastly, 800 soldiers wasn't a small number, but it wasn't an overwhelming force either. If another nation—say, Kirigakure—decided to retaliate, Amegakure wouldn't be the one taking the brunt of the hit.

A perfect three-pronged strategy.

Kanashii Kongo was so pleased with his own cleverness that he drank a little too much at Hanzō's farewell banquet that night. He even ended up staying over, thoroughly enjoying his moment of triumph.

The Unthinkable Problem

But reality hit him hard.

A month before the scheduled deployment, Kanashii Kongo gathered his forces, preparing for the grand send-off. That was when he made a shocking discovery.

The entire shinobi roster of Amegakure… was only ten pages long.

And they were single-sided.

Altogether, the village had barely a thousand shinobi.

Sending 800 of them would leave Amegakure practically empty!

His personal guard, Rō, twisted the knife even further:

"And out of that thousand, eighty-eight are fresh academy graduates."

Kanashii Kongo nearly collapsed on the spot.

But a promise was a promise. There was no taking it back now. After agonizing over the decision, he bit the bullet and assigned Jōnin Matsumoto to lead the 800-man expedition.

And just like that, Amegakure entered the weakest defensive state in its entire history. Only 172 shinobi remained behind to protect the nation.

...

The Aftermath

Fortunately, the operation went smoothly.

A little over a month later, the joint military exercise concluded successfully. The Amegakure forces mostly handled border patrols and minor skirmishes—nothing too risky. Matsumoto even managed to kill a small-time enemy commander, earning a 50,000 ryō reward from Arashi. (Konoha matched the sum, making it a total of 100,000 ryō.)

Only after the troops returned home did Kanashii Kongo finally let out a sigh of relief.

But his relief didn't last long.

After conducting an investigation, he discovered something even more terrifying:

Amegakure's total population had dropped below 60,000!

As a former steward, he immediately grasped what this meant.

During Hanzō's peak years, Amegakure had a population of nearly 200,000 and a standing force of 4,000 shinobi. No small nation dared provoke them. Even the great nations—Fire, Earth, and Wind—had to think twice before launching an invasion.

And now?

As the officially appointed leader of Amegakure, he was supposed to govern his people…

But soon, there wouldn't be any people left to govern.

As the highest-ranking military leader in the country, he was supposed to command his forces…

But he hardly had an army left!

It was absurd.

There had to be an enemy plot behind this!

But when the results of the investigation came in, he was stunned.

It wasn't some elaborate conspiracy.

It was an open, in-your-face scheme.

And the mastermind behind it?

His own patron, the Hourglass Group.

To be fair, this wasn't a situation he had created. He had only been in charge for a short time—things had already been set in motion long before.

Back during the Second Shinobi War, Amegakure had been the primary battleground between Konoha, Sunagakure, and Iwagakure. The constant fighting had devastated the country. Civilians had fled, farms had been razed, and famine had taken hold.

Then came the Earth-Lightning Conflict, which drove even more war refugees into Amegakure. The small nation became overcrowded, overrun with starving people.

Hanzō, despite his fearsome reputation, struggled to manage the crisis. That was when Sunagakure had extended a so-called "helping hand."

And with it, they had bought Amegakure's fate.

Rasa and Hokuto didn't waste any time. Ever since the establishment of the Hourglass Group, they had implemented a straightforward system: refugees in the Land of Rain were gathered and assigned work accordingly. Those with useful skills were stationed along the Shule River to work, while those without were sent to Lake Tsuki's new district to cultivate land and farm. In no time, the refugee crisis was largely resolved. (Of course, in the process, Rasa also spent nearly all of the savings he had painstakingly accumulated.)

Eventually, the influx of foreign refugees stopped, and the internal refugee problem was resolved. Just as the shinobi and villagers of Amegakure were about to catch their breath and begin rebuilding their homeland, they were faced with a new problem—

They were broke. Completely penniless.

Where did all the money go?

Of course, it was in the pockets of our dear Lord Hanzō. The great Salamander himself was still living in luxury, enjoying music and dancing without a care in the world.

During wartime, shinobi at least received stipends and allowances from the village. But now that the war was over, military wages had been cut off. If they wanted to earn money, they had to take on missions. The problem was—

Who had the money to hire them?

The wealthy landlords and merchants were all bankrupt. The war had drained the region dry. There simply weren't enough people left who could afford to commission shinobi for work.

But there was one group still hiring.

The Hourglass Group.

Damascus shinobi swords, tactical vests, combat boots, preserved rations—these products were selling like crazy across the nations. As the Hourglass Group expanded along the Shule River, their business flourished. They needed workers—lots of them. And so, a large number of villagers became factory laborers. Surprisingly, the wages from working in these factories weren't any less than what they could earn from farming. If they really wanted to farm, there was plenty of land waiting for them in Lake Tsuki's new district.

Both the first-generation manager, Rasa, and the second-generation manager treated their workers well (per Arashi's directive—worker benefits were not to be reduced). And that was that. The people simply followed where the opportunities led them. The job provided good pay, food, and housing. Those who worked diligently could even send their children to the technical school in Lake Tsuki's new district to learn valuable trades.

As for the shinobi? It was even easier to find them work. Factory security, guarding mining sites, protecting overseas farms, escorting trade caravans from Amegakure to Lake Tsuki—there were countless job opportunities. With a single wave of Rasa's hand, the issue was solved. The shinobi of Amegakure had new employment.

And so, the village adapted to its new reality.