Naruto: Orochimaru's Disciple

Chapter 119: Chapter 119: There Are Always Fools Trying to Get What They Cannot Have

Chapter 119: There Are Always Fools Trying to Get What They Cannot Have

”Kenichi, bring two ninja here,” Orochimaru suddenly called out.

Kenichi froze for a beat, then nodded and turned to leave.

Shizune instinctively tried to stop him. Whatever Orochimaru wanted, it did not sound like anything good. But one cold glance from Orochimaru pinned her in place, and she could only watch Kenichi go with clear reluctance.

”What are you doing, Orochimaru?” Tsunade snapped, still glaring. After Shizune wiped the blood off her face, she looked a little better.

Only a little.

”Nothing,” Orochimaru said lightly. A mocking curve lifted at the corner of his mouth. ”Just wait here for a moment. Otherwise, I cannot guarantee what might happen to your precious student.”

Tsunade clenched her fists, furious and unwilling. But she also understood the reality. Shizune was absolutely not a match for Orochimaru.

And Tsunade herself was crippled by hemophobia.

As Kenichi moved away, curiosity stirred in him.

What was Sensei planning this time?

Still, curiosity did not stop him from following orders.

He returned quickly to the capital of the Land of Fire, only to find it in chaos. People swarmed the streets, repairing cracked roads and damaged buildings. The place looked like it had been punched by a natural disaster with very specific anger issues.

Kenichi soon spotted the ninja stationed there.

One of the men even resembled one of the Lightning Release Four. Asuma was not present, and neither was the bald monk. Kazuma, however, was there, speaking loudly to the crowd like he owned the stage.

Kenichi, intrigued, used Transformation Jutsu, then slipped closer.

As he approached, Kazuma’s words carried clearly.

”These Konoha ninja are truly heinous!” Kazuma thundered. ”Look! This is proof of their unbridled audacity!”

He slammed his fist into the collapsed wall beside him, hard enough to draw blood. The gesture was so dramatic it practically demanded applause.

Anyone watching could see how outraged he was, how deeply he grieved for the innocent victims.

”As expected of a staunch anti Konoha faction,” Kenichi muttered, unimpressed.

Kazuma had chosen his timing perfectly. Tsunade’s monstrous strength had damaged streets and turned plenty of houses into hazards. And Kazuma was using the moment to stir public hatred toward Konoha.

His intentions were obvious.

So was his stupidity.

This was a world where individual power decided everything. If the Land of Fire were not so vast, and if Konoha were not so short on manpower that decentralized control was impractical, Konoha would not even bother keeping the Land of Fire’s high officials in their current positions.

They could turn the daimyo into a puppet, and if the puppet refused to dance, replace him with one who would.

Konoha still had some sense of shame, which was why the formal appointment of the Hokage went through the daimyo. Of course, in reality, the daimyo did not get to choose whoever he wanted. Most of the time, Konoha informed him, and he simply wrote the document.

It had the feel of a British royal title, prestigious, but hollow in practice.

Still, the daimyo did hold influence in one place that mattered.

Money.

The funds of the Land of Fire ran through the daimyo, and even Konoha needed financial support. Their relationship was economic and military: the daimyo funded, Konoha fought.

A daimyo’s job was simple. Build the economy, collect revenue, and pay what needed to be paid.

But the current daimyo of the Land of Fire was clearly ambitious.

”Is this Kazuma’s idea, or the daimyo’s?” Kenichi watched Kazuma perform with quiet interest.

Underestimating a daimyo’s awareness would be foolish, especially when the Twelve Guardian Ninja were an organization created under the daimyo’s authority.

The daimyo had to know what Kazuma was doing.

And he still allowed it.

Was this a test of Konoha?

After acting like a grandson for so long, he finally wanted to act like a grandfather.

Kenichi did not care.

The daimyo’s resistance was pointless. The future daimyo would not cause much trouble either. In the end, he would still fold neatly and admit defeat.

What Kenichi did care about was who to bring back.

The first target was Kazuma, without question. Kenichi found him disgusting, and Kazuma had ambushed him before. Kenichi had never said it aloud, but he remembered.

As for the second target...

Kenichi’s gaze swept across the four ninja standing nearby. He almost decided to grab one at random. Even if they had that powerful Lightning Release technique, they could not use it without all four anyway.

Then he hesitated.

Sensei might be more interested in that technique.

He clicked his tongue in irritation.

”Then I should catch the bald monk instead. I can always sell his head for money,” Kenichi thought, frustrated with himself.

Those four needed to be captured, and they could not die. Kenichi planned to take them back to Orochimaru so his teacher could study the technique they had mastered.

With that in mind, the bald monk was a clean choice to fill out the number, and his bounty was a bonus.

Kenichi slipped into the daimyo’s mansion. He had seen the bald monk earlier, and he was likely still here.

Sure enough, he found Asuma and the monk together.

”Chiriku, you do not need to be so tense,” Asuma said, sounding far more relaxed now that Orochimaru and Tsunade had left. He was smoking again, exhaling thick clouds like he was personally trying to remodel his lungs. ”Orochimaru and Tsunade would never attack a daimyo.”

The bald monk, Chiriku, waved a hand with a helpless look.

”Asuma, smoke less,” Chiriku said. He had advised him countless times, and Asuma had ignored him every time.

Still, hearing Asuma’s words, Chiriku visibly eased.

That was when a figure appeared behind him in an instant.

A brutal kick slammed into the back of Chiriku’s head.

”Chiriku!” Asuma reacted on instinct, lunging in and blocking the strike.

Only then did he fully see the attacker.

A masked man.

The moment the attack failed, the masked man retreated and spat out a roaring torrent of flame, aiming straight at the daimyo’s residence.

”How dare you assassinate a daimyo?” Asuma’s eyes widened, shock and fury twisting together.

He rushed forward, but the flames were terrifyingly strong, pressing down on him like a burning wall. It was not something he could brush aside easily.

At the same time, a startled shout came from the side, then cut off into silence.

Asuma’s heart sank.

He understood the enemy’s intent.

But he could not move.

If he left, the daimyo of the Land of Fire would be reduced to ashes on the spot.

”You...” Asuma ground his teeth, rage boiling under the strain.

He forced out a Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Technique, crushing the enemy’s ninjutsu and buying the mansion a breath of safety.

But when the smoke and heat cleared, Chiriku was already gone.

Asuma stared at the empty space, his expression turning sharp and ugly.

”You’re too weak,” he sneered through clenched teeth.

In a world where Konoha was written as overwhelmingly powerful, ruling the Land of Fire should have been easy.

Yet here they were, with fools still reaching for what they could never hold.

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