OberonLA
patreon
Mastermind of the Akatsuki 443 (Final)
🕑 Added 2025-07-17 16:01:16 +0000 UTCPrologue: Aftermath
Five Years Later
Konoha City
“This is such a drag. I thought once everything was settled, I’d finally get to relax,” Kakashi muttered, exhaling a deep sigh as he stared at a towering stack of paperwork. Dark circles under his eyes revealed the toll the job was taking on him.
“That sounds like something I’d say,” Shikamaru replied with a slow rub of his chin. He leaned back against the wall, gazing out thoughtfully. “But who would've imagined the world could change this much in just five years? Villages turning into cities... it’s surreal.”
Indeed, the conclusion of the Fourth Shinobi World War marked not just the end of an era but the beginning of an entirely different one. In the short span of five years, the entire political and geographical structure of the ninja world had undergone a radical transformation.
The former countries that once operated with delicate borders and political tension no longer existed as independent entities. Instead, they had been unified under a single sovereign regime and were now designated as provinces within a vast empire.
Similarly, the once-isolated shinobi villages had evolved into fully recognized cities. Though they retained elements of their past—like the training of shinobi and the leadership of a Kage—they now operated with a corporate-style governance, focusing more on administration and development rather than military defense.
One might wonder how such sweeping changes could be executed in such a short period. The answer lay with the man now recognized as the first and only emperor of this restructured world—Byakuya. He had established the empire’s capital in the Land of Rain and claimed the seat of ultimate authority, ruling over all the provinces. While resistance did flare up in the early days, the people—still reeling from the devastation of war—had little energy left to fight. And so, with no further bloodshed, the world was reborn under one banner.
Kakashi stood from his chair and approached the wide window of the Hokage office, his gaze falling upon the ever-changing landscape of Konoha. Skyscrapers and modern buildings rose steadily, their shadows stretching across the remnants of a simpler past. While the village’s rustic charm was slowly fading, the advances in technology and infrastructure made the transition almost inevitable.
Such rapid progress would have seemed impossible in the days of peace, when nations often became complacent. But under Byakuya’s leadership—his stringent reforms, the mandated ninja training, and the empire’s heavy investment in ninjutsu research and technological advancement—the world had maintained its edge. Even in peace, they sharpened their blades.
The looming threat of war between provinces was no longer a concern, but a different anxiety had emerged. Hidden threats—creatures or beings beyond their understanding—had been discovered. Rumors of alien entities more powerful than even Kage-level shinobi had circulated, and the empire wasn’t taking chances.
With war now outlawed, humanity had turned its energy toward other pursuits. Medicine, science, education, and most notably, exploration. The world beyond the former ninja lands beckoned. Adventurers, scientists, and dissenters alike pushed outward into the unknown. Some wished to escape Byakuya’s rule, while others were handpicked by him to lead expeditions into new territories.
“I just hope this peace, bought with betrayal and sacrifice, can last,” Kakashi murmured to himself. As Hokage, he understood better than most that peace was a fragile illusion—fleeting and easily shattered. But for now, at least, the world was no longer trapped in the grip of manipulation and apocalyptic schemes. That had to count for something.
Capital City: Amegakure
Like every other Kage who had borne the burden of leadership, Yahiko now found himself drowning in administrative responsibilities. As the appointed prime minister of the empire, Yahiko managed the vast majority of political affairs, internal coordination, and diplomatic tasks. While Byakuya bore the title of emperor, he had no interest in daily governance, preferring to remain an enigma behind the curtain.
“Still working hard, Yahiko?” Nagato’s voice broke through the silence as he stepped into the office, setting a steaming cup of tea on the desk.
After the war, Byakuya had returned the Rinnegan to Nagato—or at least, a pair exactly like the ones he once wielded. Though these weren’t originally his eyes, it had been made clear that no one else had the right to possess them either. Yet Nagato couldn’t help but wonder—had he truly chosen to give them back, or had they simply been replaced?
Without the Rinnegan, he was just an ordinary jōnin. Having built his life around mastering the abilities of those eyes, he had never invested much in other techniques. In a world that no longer feared sudden war or assassination, rank meant little. Titles like jōnin or even Kage had become more ceremonial than practical.
Now, Nagato served as Yahiko’s advisor—no longer a warrior, but a counselor.
“You should take a break. It’s not like you can’t delegate your responsibilities,” Nagato said as he settled into the seat across from Yahiko.
Yahiko raised a brow. “Delegate like Byakuya?”
Nagato gave an uneasy smile. “N-no… I mean, Byakuya just dumps everything on others. That doesn’t count. Anyway, you should go see Konan. You know she’s expecting again.”
With the world no longer teetering on the edge of destruction, people were free to explore the softer, quieter aspects of life—things like love, family, and stability. Like many others who had fought and survived, Yahiko had finally allowed himself to pursue his long-buried feelings. After the war, he proposed to Konan. She accepted, not only because of their long-standing bond but also because she was reaching a time in her life when settling down felt right. They’d had a daughter together, and now she was pregnant with their second child.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Yahiko said with a small smile. “I’ll delegate some tasks and take a few days off. Speaking of which—you should think about settling down too.”
Yahiko was well aware of Nagato’s feelings for Konan. At first, he had hesitated to propose, afraid of damaging their friendship. But it had been Nagato himself who had encouraged him to go after what made him happy.
“I will,” Nagato said quietly. The only woman who came to mind was Akane Uzumaki. But her heart was still healing after being turned away by Byakuya. Her rejection had cut deep, and she hadn’t moved on yet. Whether something would ever blossom between them—only fate could say.
Nagato’s eyes drifted toward the open window, his expression thoughtful. “Yahiko… what do you think of this peace? Is this what we were fighting for?”
Yahiko paused, his tea halfway to his lips. He stared up at the ceiling, his gaze distant. “Even if Byakuya forced this peace on everyone, at least now… children don’t have to go to bed wondering if their parents will come home from battle.”
Nagato nodded. “It’s not the peace we dreamed of, but it’s the one we needed. Human emotions are too varied, too complex. You can’t make everyone happy.” He looked over at Yahiko again, a hint of curiosity in his voice. “Say… don’t you think Byakuya isn’t from this world? I mean, who is he really?”
Yahiko let out a long sigh. “I doubt we’ll ever find that answer in this lifetime.”
High above the clouds, far beyond the reach of the human eye, a solitary figure stood suspended in the air, calmly watching the land below like a divine observer.
Below him, another land unraveled—one not yet tamed by peace. It was chaotic, tormented by monstrous beings and disasters that stretched beyond normal comprehension. Massive walls guarded what little civilization remained. Byakuya watched with narrowed eyes. He understood better than anyone: the peace they had achieved was temporary.
“Are you planning to conquer this land too, Byakuya-sama?”
The voice came from a strikingly elegant woman with alabaster skin and hair tied into a neat braid. Kaguya Ōtsutsuki stood beside him, her eyes filled with calm reverence. The honorific “-sama” wasn’t born of fear—it came from genuine respect. She called him that not as a servant to her superior, but as a wife to her husband.
Yes, following the war and the unification of the known world, Byakuya had finally ventured into the foreign realm of love. The only woman who had stirred any emotion in him was Kaguya. Despite being over a millennium old, and the mother of three, including one who had betrayed Byakuya in the past, Kaguya remained beautiful, powerful, and magnetic. Age is but a number.
She was the only one who could match his power, and more importantly, the only one who could see through the cold exterior to whatever remained of the man within.
As for that fucking parasite—ahem, that unfilial child Black Zetsu—Byakuya had no interest in allowing him to linger like a shadow between himself and Kaguya. After asserting himself as the so-called "daddy" figure, Byakuya promptly tore him away from her and cast him into a dimensional void under the excuse of “proper discipline.” In truth, he simply didn’t want the creature's sour presence ruining the mood, especially during his increasingly intimate relationship with Kaguya. No, sir—Byakuya did not entertain those kinds of kinks.
“Still can’t bring yourself to say ‘dear’ or ‘honey’, huh?” Byakuya muttered to himself, careful to keep the thought buried away from Kaguya’s perception. She was still learning—still inexperienced when it came to human emotions. Despite her ancient origins, she behaved like a socially awkward, introverted woman, often oblivious to the subtleties of common behavior and affection.
“I suppose it’s time I bestow peace—conquer, I mean—this world as well,” Byakuya said aloud, shifting his gaze to the devastated lands beneath the towering walls. Then, half under his breath, he added, “Even if wiping out eighty percent of the population sounds tempting, I’d rather let them squirm around a bit longer.”
By now, Byakuya had trained and refined every aspect of his power. He no longer resembled anything remotely human—he had surpassed those limitations long ago. What he had become now was something divine, a being transcending mortality, logic, and perhaps even the very concept of time. After fully mastering his space-time techniques, he gained access to interdimensional travel, much like the Ōtsutsuki. But where they had relied on rituals and genetic tricks, he had carved his own path—clean, methodical, absolute.
And he still held the system. That strange, omniscient mechanism that had guided him since the beginning was now fully under his control. With it, he intended to extend his dominion far beyond the world he had already unified.
“All that’s left…” he murmured, eyes narrowing, “...is to have them join the Akatsuki.”
(AN: This part is completely original and written by me. I didn’t want a half-hearted conclusion, so I decided to craft something myself. It’s kind of my first attempt at writing an original continuation for the translation.)
