That night, Shisui dispatched an Earth Release shadow clone to the outskirts of the great waterfall and the main mountain passes to redeploy a network of Mimicry Monitoring Insects and a pheromone identification grid.
Over the past two years, every resident of the village had lived in close proximity to his hive. Their clothes, skin, and even their breath had been "marinated" in the specific pheromones of his insect colony.
No matter how skilled a foreign infiltrator might be at transformation or chakra suppression, they couldn't simulate that deep-seated scent. To Shisui's insects, a stranger slled like a beacon in the dark.
This was the first line of defense. The second was internal: a real-ti surveillance network utilizing Mimicry Insects as mobile caras.
By linking the bio-signals of the insects to a modified version of the Telescope Technique, Shisui could project visual and audio feeds onto a specialized crystal ball. He didn't just see the village; he heard its whispers.
After securing the periter, his clone visited the Togo Shrine.
Upon seeing him, Elder Ziying bowed with profound reverence. "My Lord, what are your instructions?"
"The village will open soon," Shisui said. "I have tasked Naoto with the execution. You are not to reveal that he works for . Instead, during the elders' council, you will give him your absolute support."
"My Lord... are you planning to make him the leader?"
"He will be the heroic figurehead of Takigakure," Shisui replied. "I won't replace your current young leader; he is diligent and far better at civil administration than any of you. But Naoto will be the strength that protects that administration."
A balance of the pen and the sword... Ziying shivered. Even with the village in his palm, Shisui was still playing gas of checks and balances. "We are the extension of your will, Lord Shisui. It shall be done."
Shisui then t with the other elders, ordering them to begin stockpiling tals, dicinal herbs, and chakra-conductive materials under the guise of "village developnt." Idle resources in ninja households were to be reclaid and forged into weapons and dicine.
Crucially, the person distributing these new "village-funded" supplies would be Naoto. Shisui was ticulously building Naoto's prestige, molding him into the public face of the regi.
anwhile, the hive had evolved. The single entrance had been expanded to four strategic nodes:
Beneath "Takigawa Sho's" residence in the civilian sector.
Under the Togo Shrine.
Directly beneath the newly built three-story Council Hall.
Behind the Great Waterfall's rear mountain, connecting to the exterior valley exit.
The subterranean palace now reached fifty levels deep, its footprint nearly mirroring the surface area of the entire village.
Shisui himself wasn't sure exactly how many insects he possessed; as long as there was soil, water, and energy, the common breeds multiplied exponentially.
The Liberation
When the barrier finally fell, the village erupted.
Ninjas charged through the waterfall, basking in the spray and the open sky, breathing the "air of freedom" for the first ti in two years. Young people flew out like birds from a cage, racing toward the nearest trading towns.
Naoto stood at the village entrance, watching them with a heavy heart. He rembered Shisui's question: Are they not living well now?
He understood now. There was no standard answer. But at least now, they had the right to choose.
However, the "freedom" didn't even last two weeks before reality set in.
A group of villagers out on a shopping trip were ambushed and robbed. Naoto led a squad to intercept the culprits, quickly subduing a dozen bandits.
Under interrogation, the truth ca out: the bandits were just local thugs from a nearby town.
They had seen Takigakure villagers spending money like nobility in gambling dens and taverns, flashing wealth without a care.
The thugs hadn't realized their targets were the families of hidden ninjas; they just saw "fat sheep" ripe for the shearing.
Naoto's brow furrowed. Back at the village, so ninjas proposed a solution: "Why don't we just bring the taverns and entertainnt houses inside the village? Then no one has to leave."
Naoto rejected the idea imdiately. The "Three Prohibitions" of shinobi—liquor, gambling, and lust—existed for a reason. To turn their peaceful ho into a grey-market district would destroy the very tranquility they sought to protect.
But the problem remained: the youth had money, and money demanded excitent.
That night, Naoto returned to the hive. Shisui listened to his dilemma and offered a rare, dry chuckle. "Seeking pleasure is human nature. You keep them cooped up for two years, and then let them out—it would be strange if there weren't problems."
"So what do we do?"
"Two ways," Shisui said, holding up two fingers. "First, I can implant Dostic Harmony Insects in the most restless ones. It reduces aggression and keeps them focused on ho. But it won't stop the gambling."
"And the second?"
"Make them poor again."
Naoto blinked, confused.
"The village is too wealthy," Shisui explained. "Those high-grade goods Ryuji Ida brings in? I'll tell him to start bringing 'luxury' items—absurdly expensive, status-seeking vanity goods.
Their money will be recycled back to us in no ti. If they have no spare cash, they won't go looking for trouble outside."
Naoto hesitated. He worried about fostering a culture of decadence. But a bigger threat was erging: now that the village was open, the ninjas were pressuring the elders to accept outside missions. Even without official contracts, so were taking "private jobs."
With the world still at war, a Takigakure ninja appearing on a battlefield was a flare that would draw the eyes of the Great Nations.
For the first ti, holding power felt like a crushing weight. The simple, pure joy of his youth had vanished. Looking back, he realized how naive he had been.
"Sho-niisan... Captain Sato... did he really die by accident?"
Shisui looked at him calmly. "I didn't strike the blow. I simply chose not to help."
Naoto closed his eyes for a mont. "I understand... Lord Shisui."
On that day, Naoto finally changed how he addressed the man. He turned and walked out of the dark, leaving the "Little Naoto" of the past behind in the fifty-layered tomb.
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