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GSiN: Ch. 27
🕑 Added 2025-03-13 13:18:16 +0000 UTC---Ryouma's POV---
Boom!
Boom!
Two successive roars echoed through the air.
The final two supply depots outlined in our mission plan were now disintegrating under a dazzling blue light, disappearing entirely without resistance, fading into nothingness.
Within those depots lay mountains of supplies.
A wave of spatial distortion, and Minato and I were behind a steep rock wall on the outskirts of this Suna stronghold in the desert.
There, we laid in silent concealment, and remotely observed the busy Suna ninjas scurrying about the base through our respective specialized techniques. These observations were critical, as they would directly influence the strategies for our next move.
As time passed, the sun shifted position. The Suna ninjas' movements grew more urgent, and more desperate with each passing minute.
Suddenly, Minato tensed beside me. He spoke, "I can't sense the Flying Thunder God kunai I left in that hidden warehouse. They must have found it and sealed it away."
"That complicates things," I said, propping my chin with one hand, pondering alternative ways to approach the warehouse.
I observed through my Rikugan that the enemy had set up a meticulous, carpet-like defense around the seventh warehouse.
After carefully analyzing the enemy's troop deployment, fortifications, and possible weak points, I concluded that silently infiltrating the area within effective range for the Rasenshuriken was impossible.
Abandoning a close-range approach and opting to throw the attack from a distance would likely lead to it being intercepted and prematurely detonated by Pakura's Scorch Release.
The power of Scorch Release couldn't be underestimated. Bloodline limits were never simple, never to be taken lightly.
Even if by chance Minato's Flying Thunder God kunai had gone unnoticed and unsealed, the situation wouldn't change significantly. The hidden warehouse had been heavily guarded from the outset.
To avoid alarming the enemy and jeopardizing the original plan, Minato had refrained from approaching or probing its contents.
Moreover, the teleportation coordinates he left were conservatively placed, meaning that even if he teleported there, it was unlikely we could destroy the warehouse effectively.
But unlike his sensory-type abilities, my Rikugan functioned more like the Byakugan. This allowed me to see the contents of the warehouse, sealed scrolls.
Unfortunately, they were of no practical use since their details remained obscured by protective seals that even my Rikugan couldn't penetrate.
Observing the layers of Suna ninjas guarding the area, Minato thoughtfully concluded, "Our mission objectives have already been exceeded. Six warehouses destroyed when our orders specified four."
"The seventh seems particularly valuable, given their reaction," I noted.
"Which makes it tempting, but also potentially the most dangerous," Minato replied.
"We could request reinforcements, perhaps a specialized infiltration team?" I suggested.
Minato shook his head. "By the time they arrived, Suna would have relocated whatever they're protecting. While I'm curious, it's best to retreat for now."
It was a sound judgment. As the war progressed, whatever secret Suna was guarding would eventually come to light. Patience was sometimes the better part of military wisdom.
Typically, things guarded with such vigilance and elaborate defenses fell into one of two categories:
Weapons of devastating power capable of delivering catastrophic strikes against the enemy, or massive funds essential for war efforts.
Both were important to the outcome of a war and the survival of a nation. Neither side could afford to be negligent.
For the former, falling into enemy hands or being destroyed would mean the loss of a critical strategic asset. And for the latter, any disruption would directly affect supply chains and combat readiness, potentially reversing the course of the war.
As these thoughts ran through my mind, I realized something odd: since arriving on the battlefield, I had yet to hear any mention of Rasa. It was as if the name had been deliberately erased from the narrative.
A ripple of spatial distortion, and we were gone.
---
Standing before the Konoha forward camp opposite Suna's front-line base, I once again couldn't help but admire the convenience of the Flying Thunder God Technique.
But it could only remain a wish. The Flying Thunder God Technique was created by the Second Hokage and recorded as an S-rank space-time ninjutsu in Konoha's Scroll of Seals.
Though the scroll contained mostly S-rank or higher techniques, there was a strict hierarchy even among them, from the merely dangerous to the potentially catastrophic.
For an ordinary ninja like me, earning significant merit on the battlefield could generally grant permission to apply for learning certain techniques from the Scroll of Seals.
Techniques such as the Hard Whirlpool Water Blade, as well as Multiple Shadow Clone Technique, Spirit Transformation Technique, and Water Severing Wave, could potentially be granted as rewards.
However, techniques like the Flying Thunder God Technique, Dead Demon Consuming Seal, and Edo Tensei, which carried inherently dangerous effects, would never be casually released by the Third Hokage, given his cautious nature.
Unless, of course, the individual was someone highly trusted and aligned with the village. If I were to become the apprentice of one of Konoha's prominent figures, the Third Hokage might even reward me with the Flying Thunder God Technique and consider grooming me as a candidate for the Fifth or Sixth Hokage.
Thus, to acquire the Flying Thunder God Technique, my first challenge would be to secure a position as an elite apprentice under Konoha's top leaders.
That said, as a reincarnated individual with knowledge of the original timeline, I had a backup plan.
I could wait until Minato succeeded as the Fourth Hokage. In the original storyline, he passed the Flying Thunder God Technique to his personal guard platoon.
This platoon included Shiranui Genma, Namiashi RaidÅ, and Tatami Iwashi. I was familiar with the first two as my peers, but I had never met Iwashi.
The squad wasn't particularly strong, but they successfully inherited the Flying Thunder God Technique, albeit only capable of using it collectively as a group. This was somewhat a waste of the technique's unparalleled mobility.
Moreover, since Minato typically fought alone and rarely required support, the platoon was less like a guard unit and more aptly described as the "Flying Thunder Courier Team."
I believed that given my good relationship with Minato, he wouldn't refuse my request. Although I felt slightly embarrassed, I intended to offer my own techniques in exchange.
After all, the Flying Thunder God Technique was too tempting. And with the aid of my Rikugan, I was confident in my ability to master this notoriously difficult space-time ninjutsu.
As I walked into the camp, I was about to bid farewell to Minato.
But he spoke first, stopping me. "This was the squad's first mission. Let's report to Lady Tsunade together."
With his characteristic sunny smile, he extended the invitation to me.
"Fine, you're the captain." I spread my hands and smiled helplessly.
Although I found the idea of reporting a mission dull, I preferred to seek out Rin, tease Obito alongside Kakashi, and check in on Heiji and Shiori to see how they were doing.
However, considering that our surprise strike squad had completed such an important mission, we would likely have a few days of rest coming up. I decided there was no need to rush.
---
"That concludes the first mission report of Gale Blade Flash Spiral Legend Storm Ultra Howling Zero Division."
Minato finished reporting the mission details to Tsunade. Meanwhile, I stood quietly to one side.
These bureaucratic rituals were tedious. War didn't pause for paperwork, yet here we were, recounting events everyone already knew through field reports.
I was eager to finish this mission report and move on to my own matters.
Ignoring the ridiculous squad name, Tsunade lounged unrestrainedly, crossing one leg over the other. She leaned against the backrest of her chair, resting her cheek in one hand, and spoke to me, "Oh, your power is stronger than it was when you unleashed it in the forest, and you used it six times consecutively? That's quite a chakra reserve. I don't recall the Aotsuki family possessing any bloodline limit."
Standing idly in the tent, I smirked confidently when I heard Tsunade's remark. "I have a knack for controlling chakra."
Looking at my confident smile, Tsunade paused. Something flickered across her face. Her eyes seemed to focus on something far away for a brief moment before returning to the present.
The question hung in the air, deceptively simple yet loaded with personal history and pain. Behind her casual tone lay a minefield of trauma.
"Kid, what's your dream?" she suddenly asked. "Don't tell me you want to be Hokage."
I felt there was no need to put on an act in front of her and answered sincerely, "Hokage? No interest. My dream is to live the happiest life every day with the friends I trust the most. That's enough for me."
"That's... unusually grounded for someone your age," Tsunade blinked, momentarily surprised.
"Dreams should be things you can actually achieve," I added with a light shrug. "Otherwise, they're just fantasies that lead to disappointment."
"Hey, kid, do you even know what being Hokage represents?" Tsunade's tone suddenly sharpened.
Ah, I've stepped on a land mine. The very thing she resented was also the thing she couldn't bear to hear others dismiss so easily.
They say women were hard to read, and her thoughts were especially difficult to grasp.
Now I wasn't sure how to respond to Tsunade, so I crossed my arms and closed my eyes, choosing to remain silent.
What could I do? Despite her youthful appearance, she was approaching a certain age, and with the continuous wars, few in this world were mentally stable.
In any case, understanding was key.
While I could understand this, she grew increasingly annoyed. I could feel it.
It turned out that not even one of the Sannin could tolerate cold indifference.
I knew she genuinely despised the village and the position of Hokage, even planning to leave Konoha after this war, but deep down, she still cared for the treasure her grandfather gave his life to protect.
Like most humans, she wanted the privilege of criticizing what she loved while denying others the same right.
Women were complex.
"You look dissatisfied. Want to spar outside?"
"Is this a medical examination or a challenge?" I asked, opening my eyes slowly.
"Lady Tsunade, this..." Minato began, trying to intervene but couldn't find the right reasoning.
"This what, Minato?" Tsunade cut him off. "You think I'm being unreasonable?"
"I merely think that after such a successful mission, perhaps rest would be more beneficial than additional training," Minato offered diplomatically.
"It's not training. It's an assessment," Tsunade dismissed. "As medical director, I need to understand the capabilities of our key operatives."
"Of course," Minato conceded, clearly unconvinced.
Meanwhile, hearing Tsunade's provocation, I was deep in thought.
The situation required careful navigation. Refusing would appear weak or disrespectful, but complete acquiescence would establish a problematic precedent.
I agreed, saying, "Lady Tsunade, so of course, I won't refuse an order."
"It's not an order. It's an invitation," Tsunade replied, annoyed at my framing.
"Of course. My mistake," I responded with subtle emphasis.
With that, I walked out ahead of her. I wasn't someone who sought unnecessary conflict, but neither was I a pushover to be trifled with.
Not even by one of the Sannin.
While I had a filter of admiration for Tsunade from the original story in my past life, that didn't mean I would endlessly tolerate the actions of characters I once liked. People needed to be judged by who they were, not who they might become or who I wanted them to be.
The Tsunade I had admired in the past was the Fifth Hokage who eventually faced her inner struggles and understood what was truly important.
But this Tsunade? The one who acted as though the world owed her something just because her loved ones had died? I found her current self to be utterly unreasonable.
Sure, it sounded tragic.
But in this world, who didn't have a tragic past?
Most children in the Academy had similar stories of loss, it was the standard norm in this world of endless conflict.
Using personal tragedy as justification for perpetual bitterness wasn't just self-destructive, it was disrespectful to everyone else carrying similar burdens without collapsing under them.
One way or another, I had decided that today, I was going to properly teach this unreasonable woman a lesson.
Even if Jesus himself showed up, nothing could stop me. Not out of spite or arrogance, but because sometimes the kindest thing you could do for someone trapped in a cycle of self-destruction was to break that cycle, even if it meant becoming momentarily villainous in their eyes.
---Third POV---
On the other hand, after uttering, "Want to spar outside?" Tsunade immediately regretted it.
What am I doing? Why am I throwing a tantrum with a kid?
This brought her thoughts to another matter that had recently happened on the battlefield.
Lately, Chiyo had developed a new poison. While its toxicity wasn't particularly strong, it acted extremely quickly.
Though Tsunade had quickly formulated an antidote for it, many ninjas had already been affected by the poison on the battlefield before the antidote could be distributed, causing immense pressure on the medical corps.
Every day, more injured arrived than departed healed. The constant mathematical deficit of life versus death wore on even the most hardened medic-nin.
As a result, Shizune, who always accompanied her, had been swamped with work in the medical division and hadn't been around much lately.
Without Shizune by her side, Tsunade found herself frequently losing her temper and acting impulsively.
Shizune wasn't just an assistant, she was a buffer between Tsunade and her worst impulses.
Just a few days ago, she had sent Jiraiya flying out of the command center over a minor disagreement about resource allocation. He had suggested diverting some medical supplies to frontline units for immediate field treatment. She had seen it as undermining her authority over medical protocols.
The argument had escalated until Jiraiya found himself airborne.
No wonder he hadn't been around lately, he was probably avoiding her. The thought brought another unexpected pang. She was driving away the few people who still chose to stand beside her despite her prickly exterior.
Thinking of his absence, her gaze shifted to Minato. She figured if he could just come up with some reasonable excuse to smooth things over, she could let this whole thing go.
But instead, Minato hesitated and stammered for ages without saying anything useful.
These two really are master and disciple, Tsunade thought, just as useless as Jiraiya when it counts!
And what exactly was Minato thinking at that moment?
He was deeply regretting his earlier decision to ask Ryouma to come along for the mission report.
His original intention had been to give the boy an opportunity to familiarize himself with mission reporting procedures.
Bringing him along would also send a message to others about how much Ryouma had contributed to the mission and how valued he was.
But now, what should have been two positive outcomes had somehow turned into this mess.
Why... why did it turn out like this?
