"Enough!"
Elder Shesui slamd his hand onto the table and stood up. "Since when is it your turn to dictate terms in Takigakure? The village has just survived a crisis, scores of our shinobi have sacrificed their lives, and the old Leader's body is barely cold.
Yet here you are, itching to dive into a chaotic war? Are you so eager to see the rest of us dead?"
"With all due respect, Elder—did our 'Old Leader' even leave a body to be cold? Besides, the spy rebellion was over three months ago. The shinobi of Takigakure have rested long enough."
The speaker was Samura Josa, a Jonin who had returned to the village only in the last few months. He was arguably the strongest man in the room outside of the Elders, and he had made no secret of his desire to succeed the previous leader.
Unfortunately for him, he had been away on an urgent mission during the initial "incident." The Elders, for their part, lacked the courage to breathe a word of what had actually happened that day.
Truth be told, the Elders had wavered at the sight of such imnse wealth, but compared to the absolute safety of the village, gold ant nothing.
The Elders exchanged looks. Purple Fire, the most prestigious priestess among them, rose to offer a gentle warning. "Samura, the Great War is reaching a fever pitch.
If we mobilize today for the Daimyo's gold to crush the Daodao Community, tomorrow the Hidden Stone or Hidden Leaf will co to 'recruit' us. How will we respond then?"
"How?" Samura Josa stood up, his voice rising. "We join the fray, obviously!"
He turned to the other Jonin, his voice ringing with populist fervor. "Look at yourselves! You are the elite of this village.
Look at the lives you've lived lately! Have you tasted a single piece of pri at? A single bottle of fine sake? Our village is backward and stagnant. Even if we have money, we have nowhere to spend it!"
"The world outside is vast and prosperous! We have the power to seize a better life, yet we waste our lives on these ancient, rotting 'corpses' in the Council.
They have us clearing land, farming, paving roads, and building houses! These are chores for talentless civilians, yet they force us to do them, wasting our ti and eroding our will!"
"We are shinobi! If we do not fight, if we do not train, we are like tools left in a warehouse. If you do not polish the kunai and shuriken, they will rust! Takigakure wasn't always like this.
When the Warring States ended, we were the strongest clan outside of the Five Great Nations. We held the Seven-Tails gifted by Hashirama Senju! We held the ultimate weapon!"
"And now? We are so cowardly that we won't even wipe out a nest of bandits? All because these four old fools cling to power! Open your eyes! The 'New Leader' is just a puppet they've propped up. It is ti to overthrow the old guard!"
With a roar, he drained his cup and shattered it against the floor—the signal for his hidden subordinates to strike.
But the Chunin he had stationed outside did not appear. Instead, a peculiar scent began to drift through the room.
Within monts, every Jonin in the hall felt their breathing hitch. Their bodies grew heavy and unresponsive. The "New Leader," possessing the weakest constitution among them, was the first to slump onto the table, unconscious.
"An attack... enemy...!"
A few of the stronger Jonin tried to struggle to their feet, but their strength evaporated instantly, pinning them back into their seats.
The doors creaked open.
A man in black, wearing dark sunglasses and letting his long hair flow freely, stepped calmly into the room. He walked up to the paralyzed Samura Josa and tapped him on the shoulder with a mocking lightness.
"I have to say... You really have a gift for public speaking."
"Who... who are you?" Samura managed to croak out the words, catching in his throat.
"Who I am isn't important for you to know right now. But don't worry. You'll find out soon enough."
Without further word, Shisui reached out and grabbed those who had resisted most fiercely. A swarm of grey insects rose like a tide, lifting the paralyzed n into the air as they followed him out of the room.
When the oppressive pressure finally lifted, the remaining Jonin gasped for air, slowly regaining their mobility.
"That man... was he...?" one Jonin wheezed, his eyes wide with terror.
The four Elders looked down, nodding in grim resignation. "Yes. Exactly who you think. Sigh. Do you think we don't want eighty million Ryo? But there is so money you can earn, but you won't live to spend it."
"Everyone, go ho. Starting tomorrow, do what you're told. If it's farming, farm. If it's weeding, weed.
Autumn is coming, the wheat is ripening, and we'll need everyone for the harvest. The village has plenty of land; as long as you work hard, you won't go hungry.
As for today... if a single word of this leaves this room, you understand the consequences."
Of the surviving Jonin, only twelve remained. They were locals with families, roots, and hos. Knowing that the "God" of the village was still watching, none of them dared to move.
As for the ones who were unattached and had nothing to lose—well, they were the ones who had just been carried away.
The rebellion was snuffed out in a single day, silently and without a drop of blood spilled in public. The cost was seven near-Jonin level ninjas and twenty-odd unattached Chunin.
At the house of "Takigawa Sho," the entrance to the underground hive humd.
To be precise, it was no longer just a burrow. After a hundred days of expansion, Shisui had transford the original three-level structure into an eighteen-layer labyrinth.
The complex was an inverted triangle: the first layer sat twenty ters down, the second at fifty, and the third—the true entrance—plunged a hundred ters deep.
Each subsequent floor was three to five ters high, crisscrossed and staggered in a maddening geotry. Without a guide, it was a tomb designed to swallow intruders whole.
The captured ninjas were now strapped to tal fras like at on a butcher's block. Their clothing and hair had been ticulously stripped away by the swarm, leaving their bodies exposed and clean.
"Abura Shisui... what do you want with us?" Samura Josa asked, still the most defiant of the group.
"So you know my na. Then you should know I am a breeder of insects," Shisui replied tonelessly.
"One of my current species is developing too quickly, threatening the life of one of my subordinates.
You, however, are going to help solve that problem. Lie still and swallow this egg. If you're still alive tomorrow, you can stay in this labyrinth as a guard."
🌟 The story is already written… waiting to be unleashed. Claim early access on Patreon: Patreon/kazama677
🔓 You hold the keys to bonus chapters:💬 10 reviews ignite 1 bonus chapter🔷 100 Power Stones summon another
🔥 Your power determines how fast the tale unfolds.
User Comments
0 comments from readers