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Chapter 128n
🕑 Added 2025-08-13 20:43:40 +0000 UTCChapter 128n
2-in-1-chapter
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“Your body… is it beyond help?”
Genji hesitated for less than a second before voicing the thought in his heart. Even though Yagura Karatachi was no longer Mizukage, as a jinchūriki capable of fully controlling the Three-Tails, he was still one of Kirigakure’s most valuable combat assets.
“The medical-nin have all examined me. With the medical techniques available in the village, my condition cannot be cured.”
As Yagura spoke, he lifted his cup again and took a sip of tea to moisten his throat.
“Genji, there is no need to trouble yourself further on my account. Death does not frighten me—if anything, it should be considered a release. Rather than wasting time on meaningless efforts, make full use of me in the time I have left. The selection of a candidate for the Fifth Mizukage can formally be put on the agenda.”
Genji’s aged face was lined with folds, but a man who had long been accustomed to life and death showed little outward emotion. Since the time of the First Mizukage, Byakuren, he had sent off three Mizukage. Adding Yagura to that list was no different, though it was a pity to lose the combat power of the Fourth.
In truth, without Yagura, Kirigakure lacked a top-tier powerhouse who could command the respect of most of the village’s shinobi.
Even though Genji had been contemplating abolishing the old custom that only the strongest could hold the title of Mizukage, shinobi were still a people who measured leadership in strength. The weak had no right to bear the name of “Kage.” At present, there were only a few candidates for the Fifth Mizukage.
The two Genji valued most were Mei Terumi and Hōzuki Mangetsu.
In his view, these two were the most promising among the nearly ten thousand shinobi in the village to inherit the position of Fifth Mizukage.
However, Mei Terumi was a woman, and among the Five Great Shinobi Nations there had never been a female Kage. Genji feared that elevating her to the position would trigger unprecedented resistance, and Kirigakure could ill afford more turbulence and unrest.
As for Hōzuki Mangetsu… that boy’s talent and temperament were far too similar to the Second Mizukage.
The Second Mizukage, that battle maniac who had perished alongside the Second Tsuchikage over spoils taken from Konoha in a struggle with Iwagakure—Genji, still vigorous at the time, had almost died of fury. To trade a Mizukage’s life for mere war trophies was a loss beyond reason.
Because of that, he worried Mangetsu might become another Hōzuki Gengetsu.
“The Fifth’s candidate?” Genji murmured after a moment, shaking his head gently, unable to decide. He turned his gaze back to Yagura and asked, “Mizukage-sama, who do you believe is most suited to succeed you?”
“Mei Terumi.”
Yagura spoke the name without hesitation.
“The boy from the Hōzuki clan is unsuitable?”
“Mangetsu?” Yagura shook his head. “Like me, the boy from the Hōzuki clan is not a qualified leader. People like us are better suited to charge at the frontlines than to sit in the Mizukage’s chair giving orders. If we take that seat, we will only make matters worse.”
Genji inclined his head. That was precisely what he feared.
“Compared to Hōzuki Mangetsu, Hoshigaki Kisame, Ringo Ameyuri, and Momochi Zabuza, Mei Terumi’s leadership skills are unmatched.” Yagura did not hold back his praise.
“I will give the matter of the Fifth Mizukage careful consideration. There is another matter, Mizukage-sama. Before your return, the Six-Tails jinchūriki was replaced. However, this generation’s host… is not yet able to properly control the Six-Tails power. If you have time, I would ask that you visit.”
Setting aside the question of the Fifth Mizukage for the moment, Genji brought up this other issue.
At this, Yagura was visibly startled. “Senior Chin… is dead?”
Before Genji could respond, he continued, “I understand. If I have time, I will meet this new fellow jinchūriki. If possible, I will help him master the Six-Tails power. Since we are speaking of tailed beasts, there is also something about the Three-Tails that I must mention in advance.”
“I intend to release the Three-Tails back into the wild when I am close to death.”
Yagura’s tone was calm as he said something that could not be taken calmly.
“Why?”
Genji sat firmly in place, unmoving as a boulder.
Having lived so many years, what storms had he not seen? A man who had walked out of such tempests had long since trained his heart to be strong. Yagura’s words stirred only doubt in him—why discard a weapon as important as a tailed beast?—but they did not shake his composure.
“I have already lost control of the Three-Tails,” Yagura replied in the same steady tone. “Although it is still sealed within my body, Uchiha Rēn can likely force it into battle at any time. This control will probably only be broken upon Uchiha Rēn’s death.”
Before that, there was no meaning in training a new jinchūriki for the Three-Tails.
Genji did not need Yagura to say this aloud; he understood it already.
As expected, upon hearing Yagura’s words, Genji sank into an even longer silence.
Even the Three-Tails had been taken away. Could this Uchiha Rēn truly become another Uchiha Madara? But in today’s shinobi world, was there a second Senju Hashirama?
The answer was no. Looking around, the shinobi world still had no shortage of powerful figures, yet none could stand on equal footing with the First Hokage. Genji understood very well what this meant—it meant that, barring unexpected events, Konoha would soon emerge from its slump and once again stand at the pinnacle of the shinobi world.
“Mizukage-sama, I have taken note of everything you’ve said.” Genji gave a small nod, letting out a helpless sigh. He murmured, “It seems we must have Ao remove that Byakugan sooner rather than later.”
“Genji, let’s leave it here for today. I still need to go and engage with the Konoha shinobi for a while.”
Yagura Karatachi roughly gauged the time, then rose to take his leave. Although he had entrusted the reception of Konoha’s delegation to Terumi Mei, he still felt he ought to see the situation for himself.
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The arrival of Konoha shinobi brought little visible change to the cold, quiet Kirigakure. For a village that had once boasted a peak population of over two hundred thousand, even though its numbers had since diminished considerably, a mere hundred-odd newcomers from Konoha were like a drop of water falling into a pond—vanishing without a ripple.
Under Kirigakure’s high-pressure rule, the villagers had long developed a set of survival rules: curb one’s curiosity, speak little, avoid meddling in others affairs, never try to reason with shinobi, and give ANBU a wide berth. These and many other lessons were ingrained. Even the arrival of foreign ninja drew no crowds of gawkers; the very air here was steeped in cold indifference.
In the northwestern quarter of the village stood a cluster of buildings.
This had been assigned as the temporary lodging for the Konoha shinobi.
At that moment, on the top floor of the tallest building in the complex, inside a spacious reception room, Rēn sat listening closely to a subordinate’s report.
“…That’s the general picture. The situation in Kirigakure is bad. The only reason it hasn’t collapsed is that the Mist-nin’s military strength hasn’t completely rotted away. At present, the Mist-nin are keeping the village intact purely through violence. Otherwise, they would have already been swept into… what’s that phrase again, Clan Head?”
Uchiha Akitarō scratched his head, struggling to recall the words.
“Thrown onto the garbage heap of history?”
“That’s it! The garbage heap of history.” Akitarō clapped his hands in excitement. “I remember you said that once before, Clan Head. I thought it sounded amazing, and today I finally got a chance to use it.”
Had he really said something like that?
Rēn thought back. It seemed he had. Back when he had been building his own inner circle within the clan, he had not relied solely on force to subdue the arrogant clansmen; he had also poured out no small amount of half-baked inspirational talk. Whether the effect was real was debatable, but in the end, Rēn had achieved his aims.
“So it seems the Mist-nin’s situation is truly not optimistic.”
Rēn pondered. If that was the case, then the “bleeding” of Kirigakure could be eased slightly. Killing the chicken to get the eggs was the most foolish course. Driving the Mist-nin into complete ruin would win him little more than a bit of dispensable fame, and for Konoha, a Water Country in total chaos would bring scant benefit.
War and disorder might indeed generate a flood of mission requests—
But only if Konoha shinobi could secure those contracts.
How many people in the Land of Water could cross the vast sea to hire Konoha’s services? Very few, almost none.
Destroying Kirigakure would ultimately only benefit those shinobi clans in the Land of Water who had never joined the village, as well as wandering ninja drawn by the scent of blood. After a period of brutal infighting, these forces might well form a new Kirigakure…
Therefore, to better judge the extent of the “bleeding” to be inflicted, Rēn had, right after Terumi Mei’s departure, dispatched Uchiha Akitarō to investigate. With the aid of the Hyūga clan’s Byakugan and the Yamanaka clan, they had perfectly evaded the Mist ANBU watching them. Through the Sharingan’s genjutsu, they gathered substantial intelligence within the village before returning to deliver their findings to Rēn.
Rēn raised a hand to rub his forehead, drawing back from his wandering thoughts. Gesturing toward Akitarō, who sat on the sofa opposite, he said, “You’ve worked hard, Akitarō. Go and rest. The intelligence you’ve brought back will be useful.”
“Yes, Clan Head.”
Uchiha Akitarō left in high spirits.
Even knowing that what he had brought back was likely nothing rare and that the Clan Head’s praise was probably just polite formality, he was still happy. Among the many jōnin in the clan, not everyone had the chance to be commended by the Clan Head, even with a mere courtesy remark.
The reception room grew quiet again. Rēn sat on the sofa, continuing to deliberate on how to extract as much from the Mist-nin as possible without bringing them to collapse. But his thoughts did not last long before the arrival of new visitors interrupted him.
