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Chapter 129n
🕑 Added 2025-08-14 19:20:09 +0000 UTCChapter 129n
2-in-1-chapter
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The visiting guest was the Fourth Mizukage, the current nominal leader of Kirigakure.
After sitting down, Yagura Karatachi did not rush to speak. Looking around, his eyes lit up when he spotted the go board and bowls of stones in the standing cabinet. Without asking, he took them and set them up on the low table in the center of the sofa area, moving with such practiced ease that Rēn’s eyes rolled slightly upward.
Could someone really be addicted to Go and Shogi? The thought flickered in Rēn’s mind. He personally poured two cups of tea, then sat opposite Yagura Karatachi.
The silent battle on the board began.
“Uchiha Clan Head, how do you find Kirigakure?” Yagura asked as he placed a stone.
“About as bad as I expected,” Rēn replied bluntly, the jet-black stone flipping between his pale fingers. “Honestly, with the state you’re in, do you even still get missions? I doubt any client would dare come to Kirigakure.”
The mission system was the foundation of a shinobi village’s existence.
Clients submitted requests, and shinobi took them on according to the difficulty and their own capabilities, receiving payment upon completion. Without missions, shinobi had no income, and without income, what they might do to survive was not hard to imagine.
As for why shinobi did not simply use force to dominate a country but instead relied on the indirect means of “missions” to gain benefits, the reasons were complex. One was the influence of traditions stretching back to the Warring States era. Back then, shinobi clans were hired by the various nations to wage war, which formed the prototype of the mission system.
There had been cases during that time of shinobi clans killing feudal lords and directly taking control of a region. Yet the end was never good for them. Other daimyō would hire many powerful shinobi clans to unite against such a clan, erasing it from history altogether.
Unless the shinobi could unite—at least the majority of them standing on the same side—they could never truly replace the rule of the daimyō.
The 51% would always have the most power in this current system than the other 49%
For example, if the Uchiha clan were to overthrow the daimyō of the Land of Fire and take his place, what awaited them would not be the blessings of other countries, but the daimyō of those nations hiring shinobi at any cost to destroy the Uchiha.
In that situation, the Uchiha would either need invincible strength, or they would have to win over the majority of shinobi in the ninja world so they could not be hired by the daimyō. The first was self-explanatory—if Senju Hashirama had wished it, he could have slaughtered all the old nobility, buried the rulers of the past, and established a unified empire.
However, limited vision and an overly kind nature meant he never considered such a course. In the end, he merely transformed the chaotic and lawless warfare of the Warring States into the more orderly wars now waged between the Five Great Nations and their shinobi villages.
As for the second possibility—could shinobi with grudges as deep as the sea set aside their past enmities and work together for a better future for all? It was almost impossible.
Put simply, shinobi were part of an industry—an industry that had been locked in fierce internal competition for centuries. Lacking any real collective consciousness, they cared only for the interests of their own clans, or at most their own villages.
A shinobi from Kumogakure who saw a shinobi from Konoha being treated like a dog by a daimyō would laugh openly, never feeling any sense of kinship. That was what shinobi were.
All these factors together created the current state of affairs. Daimyō did not interfere in the internal affairs of shinobi, hiring them only to handle tasks through posted missions. Shinobi did not, on their own initiative, attack or harm the daimyō, instead taking missions to earn payment. This was the dual-track system of one nation, one village, created by Senju Hashirama.
The mission system was its core—the hub and bridge linking a nation and its village.
“There are still some,” Yagura said. “The great nobles of the Land of Water are numerous, and disputes among the many small lords on the islands never cease. They are all regular clients. As long as the missions are completed well, they will not care about the state of the village. In addition, the village itself periodically posts missions. One could say we are barely holding things together. But now that unrest is growing among our people, to be honest, even that precarious stability may not last much longer.”
As he spoke, Yagura let out a light sigh, not bothering to hide the dire state of the Mist.
“Seeing how pitiful you look, I almost can’t bring myself to demand compensation from you,” Rēn said, pressing a stone onto the board.
Yagura glanced down at the board and replied, “Almost? That’s a shame. I thought you might lighten my burden a little.”
The regret in his tone was not false.
“If this were a personal matter, or something concerning only the Uchiha clan, for the sake of our friendship over the board I could lessen the burden by a degree or two. But this is a matter of the village. Even if the Hokage himself has granted me the authority to decide, I do not dare to discard the village’s interests at will. What we agreed upon in the beginning is exactly what must be delivered, not a single fraction less.”
Rēn spoke with absolute finality.
Yagura Karatachi’s purpose was already clear—he had come regarding that massive sum of war reparations. It was not that Yagura intended to go back on the agreement. He had simply told Rēn that Kirigakure had no means to pay such a sum in full, and that even if it were repaid in installments, it would take a span of time so long and filled with uncertainty that no one could say when it would end. Perhaps, if Rēn softened out of pity or wished to avoid trouble, he might reduce the amount. This was Yagura’s aim—not to breach the agreement outright, but to let Konoha make the first move in lowering the payment so that Kirigakure could claim no violation had occurred.
That was why Rēn had answered so firmly, telling Yagura to abandon the thought of him voluntarily lessening the payment—doing so would be selling out Konoha’s interests.
Clack!
A crisp sound rang out as a stone landed on the board.
On Yagura Karatachi’s youthful face appeared a trace of helplessness.
In a tone of negotiation, he asked, “Is there truly no way at all?”
“Mizukage, there is no room for discussion. If I loosen my grip here, it will become a stain I can never wash away for the rest of my life.” Rēn held a stone between his fingers, his gaze wandering over the board. “I represent more than just myself. As the head of the Uchiha clan, if I bear a disgrace, it will be a disgrace upon the clan as well.”
Yagura sighed again at those words.
Although he had prepared himself for such an outcome, now that it had come, disappointment still lingered.
“However, there may still be a way.”
Rēn toyed with the stone in his hand, lowering a thin, fragile thread of hope before Yagura could sink entirely into frustration.
Yagura’s head snapped up, and his violet eyes shone with a sudden, sharp light. He fixed Rēn with an unwavering stare. “Clan Head Uchiha, please tell me what it is. As long as it lies within reason, I will agree—even if it costs me my life.”
“Your life is unnecessary. If I had wanted it, it would have been taken with a single stroke long ago. As for my idea… Mizukage, shinobi are valuable as well.” Rēn’s lips curved into a meaningful smile as he placed his stone.
Yagura frowned.
Shinobi are valuable? That was hardly news. Of course shinobi were valuable. But was he suggesting that he could somehow bundle up Mist-nin and sell them to Konoha…?
“Kirigakure’s situation is not promising, and Konoha’s is also tense. The Cloud and the Stone are both restless, as if they believe Konoha is easier to bully at this time. The truth is that the village’s manpower is stretched thin. A standoff is one thing, but if a real war breaks out, we will almost certainly face a shortage of troops.”
Leaving the village did not mean losing contact with it.
Any movement in the village would eventually reach him by messenger, though there was always some delay. For example, the letter about the sage from Mount Myōboku returning to the village had only just been sent and had yet to reach his hands, but the earlier messages were enough to give him a clear picture of the current situation.
He knew all about the Cloud and Stone making constant small provocations along the borders.
In front of Yagura, Rēn did not mind revealing a weakness. Holding the Three-Tails, he had no fear that the Mist would act irrationally—otherwise, working with the Three-Tails, razing Kirigakure would not be a difficult matter.
“This… I cannot decide immediately,” Yagura said, without giving a direct answer.
What Rēn proposed was not impossible. Konoha and the Mist were no longer enemies, and soon, because of that one-eyed bastard, they would even begin cooperating. One could, at a stretch, call the two villages allies. Under the banner of aiding an ally, it was possible to dispatch manpower.
However, just as Rēn had said, shinobi were valuable.
Kirigakure’s recovery also depended on this almost irreplaceable resource. The Mist, too, was stretched thin. The heavy losses from the last great war were one thing; the recent incident at the harbor had killed and injured many more. Add to that the years of population decline…
“No matter. Konoha’s situation is not yet so dire that it must be addressed immediately. We still have time to discuss this in detail.”
Rēn reached out and tapped the board, signaling Yagura to make his move.
Yagura shook his head, pressing down the thoughts in his mind. This was not a decision to be made in the short term; he would still need to consult with Yuan-shi and the other leaders of the village. For now, his focus returned to the board before him.
