Naruto: Being a Shinobi with no System But...

Konoha’s swift suppression of the Box of Paradise incident was… irritating.

It hadn’t gone the way Obito expected.

When Satori carried the Box of Paradise straight into the Land of Fire, Obito had anticipated chaos—months of unrest, political fallout, a battered Konoha forced to divert manpower everywhere.

Instead, it had been neatly resolved.

If Konoha could recover this quickly, then he simply needed to give them more to deal with.

So, he went to the Hidden Mist, slipped into Yagura’s mind once more, and ordered the Mizukage to dispatch additional Kirigakure units to harass Konoha during the Chunin Exams.

But then—nothing.

No escalation. No progress. Not even casualties worth mentioning.

Wearing the Mizukage’s hat, half his face drowned in shadow, Yagura’s flat, lifeless voice echoed through the office:

”Why are the operations against Konoha progressing so slowly?”

Elder Genji, summoned and kneeling respectfully, replied coolly,

”Kiri is far across the sea, and infiltration is difficult. Konoha’s eastern defenses are strong. Slow progress is inevitable.”

Then, as if deliberately shifting the focus, Genji added,

”The Daimyo asks that you personally come to the Capital to account for this year’s increased military budget and the additional funding you requested.”

Yagura—Obito—was silent for a long time.

Then—”…I leave the matter to you, Genji.

You may go.”

Genji bowed and departed, disappointment hidden but present.

Fourth Mizukage… how did it come to this?

As the elder left, Obito stepped forward from behind Yagura.

”Zetsu,” he said quietly, ”has Hidden Mist’s strength decayed this badly?”

The floor rippled and Zetsu rose from the ground.

”Well, that’s hardly surprising, is it?” Zetsu said airily.

”The Bloody Mist policies went on for so long—clan after clan with kekkei genkai was culled.”

Black Zetsu’s deeper voice added,

”The loss of combat power is severe.”

Then White Zetsu continued,

”Oh, by the way—Kakuzu is hunting targets in the Land of Waves. Shall we send him a contract under Hidden Mist’s name?”

Obito paused.

The Akatsuki couldn’t openly provoke a Great Nation yet.

But if it looked like a mercenary request endorsed by the Mizukage…

It wouldn’t attract too much suspicion.

”Yes,” he said after a moment.

”Give him the scroll.”

He controlled Yagura’s hand, signed the mercenary directive, tossed it to Zetsu, and placed a hand on the creature’s shoulder.

Space twisted—Kamui swallowed them whole.

Obito was going to the front lines himself.

Something was off—unnervingly off.

Having sensed abnormalities in Mist’s movements, Roshi temporarily chose to stay.

Right now, he needed Hidden Mist to stay quiet more than anything else.

After several hours of rest, Shisui and the two squads set out again for patrol and perimeter defense. Roshi followed their flank—both to observe and to intervene if needed.

Within half a day, they encountered two Kirigakure infiltration attempts.

Both short.

Both strange.

The first: twelve Mist-nin attempting to cross a river gorge. The instant an Uchiha Anbu member spotted them and the Sharingan glinted, they threw down smoke bombs, cast Hidden Mist jutsu, and retreated without hesitation.

The second: sixteen Mist-nin in four squads. Their leader wore an eyepatch.

Roshi recognized him—Ao, the Byakugan-wielder.

Shisui caught two in a brief genjutsu exchange.

Ao immediately signaled retreat.

No stubborn engagement.

No escalation.

Just… disengagement.

After witnessing two encounters firsthand, Roshi had to admit—Shisui’s assessment was accurate.

These Mist-nin were going through the motions.

A performance rather than an operation.

They infiltrated only to retreat.

Fought only until it became inconvenient.

Left no casualties on either side.

It was so blatant it was ridiculous.

Roshi’s earlier hypothesis—that Hidden Mist leadership had some careful strategy—started to feel shaky.

This isn’t strategy… it’s nonsense.

What was the point of committing manpower to this?

What did Hidden Mist gain from it?

Or—was the Village simply broke, unable to pay shinobi for real missions?

No… even that didn’t explain this.

The whole situation was baffling, and continuing to observe wouldn’t reveal the deeper cause.

Tsunade might have fresh intelligence waiting back in Konoha.

Roshi decided it was time to withdraw.

He stepped out of concealment, preparing to bid Shisui farewell and return to the Village immediately. Just as Roshi was about to step out of the shadows, the air shifted.

Moisture surged—thick and sudden.

A choking fog spilled across the forest floor at unnatural speed, devouring visibility in seconds.

Dense silhouettes materialized inside the mist, far more than in the earlier skirmishes.

”Enemy attack! All units—battle positions!”

Shisui’s command cut through the haze.

The two Konoha squads moved instantly, forming a tight defensive circle back-to-back.

Hidden Mist Jutsu… and not a normal one.

The sheer scale and chakra output were monstrous. No ordinary Wind Release would disperse this. Roshi recalled Yagura countering it with Typhoon Pass once—but he didn’t know the technique himself.

But he had equivalents.

”Wind Release: Clear Expanse!”

A violent windburst tore through the fog.

The thick mist buckled, twisted, and peeled apart layer by layer until a wide corridor of clear vision carved itself through the forest.

And in that moment of clarity—they finally saw it.

On the branches of the surrounding trees, more than twenty Hidden Mist shinobi crouched in ambush.

Seven squads… twenty-eight men.

For the first time, Hidden Mist’s numbers dwarfed them.

Outnumbered nearly four to one, Shisui remained unnervingly calm.

With a few crisp hand signals, his squad split into a triangular defensive pattern on the left, while the Uchiha Anbu mirrored it on the right.

Shisui himself stepped forward, drawing his short blade.

Behind him, the Anbu captain dropped back, scarlet Sharingan spinning—prepared for ambushes from any angle.

On the other side of the clearing, Ao activated his Byakugan—and immediately caught sight of Roshi in the rear.

That scale of Wind Release… enough to tear through Hidden Mist Jutsu in an instant?

So Konoha sent reinforcements?

If so, their operation would end in a token clash followed by retreat.

Ao’s frustration simmered.

To think they had to tolerate a rogue-nin under Mizukage orders… Was the Fourth truly that obsessed with provoking Konoha?

If so, then why did he keep his own men in the dark about the purpose?

Hidden Mist was too far from the mainland and lacked allied support. Even if their harassment succeeded occasionally, it would never deal meaningful damage to Konoha.

Ao tightened his grip on his kunai.

He was about to give the order—engage, test the waters, then retreat—when something shifted.

From a curtain of fog untouched by the wind jutsu…

A grotesque shape emerged.

A hulking black body.

Two mismatched masks—one laughing, one weeping.

A monster.

Konoha’s formation stiffened.

Roshi’s expression sharpened.

And before anyone could fully react—

Both masks opened at once.

Fire and Wind chakra natures swelled, fused, detonated.

Compound ninjutsu—Strange Mask Exploding Flame!

A roaring inferno laced with compressed wind burst forth—a towering fire cyclone tearing across the ground toward the Konoha squad.

”No—!”

Shisui’s pupils contracted sharply.

This was too strong to cancel with standard jutsu.

And with Mist-nin surrounding them, scattering was suicidal—they’d be isolated and crushed.

The three tomoe in Shisui’s eyes linked—

He braced to unleash Susanoo—

But he didn’t need to.

”Earth Release: Earth Flow Rampart!”

The ground surged upward with thunderous force.

A colossal earthen wall—far exceeding normal scale—erupted between the inferno and the Konoha shinobi.

Flames slammed into the wall, splitting around it, blasting the air with molten heat.

The front of the wall glowed red-hot, cracked, and flaked—but it held, stubbornly absorbing the full brunt of the Compound Ninjutsu.

A lone figure appeared atop the wall—then dropped lightly to the ground, placing himself between the Konoha shinobi and the source of the attack.

From the fading fog, a black cloak embroidered with red clouds stepped into view.

Kakuzu.

He looked at Roshi—at the Konoha headband, the composed posture, the immense earth wall that should have required a full unit of earth specialists, not one man.

His stitched eyes narrowed.

After a moment, he grunted:

”…you’re the ten million ryō bounty.”

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