Kawaki Aoba didn't speak, but the air around him grew tense. His expression darkened, and a dangerous aura radiated from his body.
"Orochimaru, raising the price at the last minute isn't exactly a good look," he said coldly. "Do you think I'm any less competent than that old man, Danzō?"
Despite the pressure from Aoba's killing intent, Orochimaru remained composed. He simply shook his head and replied:
"Aoba-kun, I think you misunderstand me. Business is like this—when demand outweighs supply, the price naturally rises. Besides, what I'm asking for isn't all that difficult for someone of your abilities."
"Oh? Then let's hear it first," Aoba replied without committing. With someone like Orochimaru, caution was a necessity—one never knew what kind of twisted request might follow.
"In addition to a pair of Byakugan," Orochimaru said with a smile, "I also want genetic samples from the Hyūga clan. Not all of them, of course—just a thousand different individuals."
Aoba thought for a moment. For someone with his connections and authority, collecting genetic samples through physical examinations wasn't a particularly challenging task.
He tossed the test tube containing the Byakugan toward Orochimaru. "Deal. I'll give you the Byakugan now. The samples will take a few days. In return, I want the complete, improved version of the Impure World Reincarnation technique. Immediately."
Orochimaru nodded, his usual eerie grin curling across his face. "Naturally. I trust you, Aoba-kun."
With a grotesque display, Orochimaru opened his mouth and regurgitated a bundle of scrolls.
This was the fully developed version of the Impure World Reincarnation technique—the one he had falsely claimed was incomplete when dealing with Danzō.
Aoba looked at the slimy scrolls with visible disgust. What is that sticky substance? That's not just saliva...
He produced a white cloth from his robe, carefully wrapped the scrolls in it, and left without another word.
With Aoba's current influence and capabilities, obtaining forbidden techniques like Impure World Reincarnation was a trivial matter. But he had his eyes on Orochimaru's modified version for a reason: sacrifice. The better the offering, the greater the reward.
He had no intention of using the technique himself—he wasn't some decrepit schemer lurking in the shadows. Aoba detested such forbidden arts. If anything, he was more inclined to eliminate those who relied on them.
But that could wait. Let Orochimaru prance around a little longer.
After returning to his estate, Aoba had a subordinate transcribe the improved technique onto clean scrolls. The originals—disgusting as they were—he incinerated immediately.
The sacrifice he offered brought a surprising reward.
A divine artifact appeared: the Sheep Talisman, one of the twelve mystical talismans from another world. More accurately, it was the essence of its power.
The sheep represented the soul.
And now, Kawaki Aoba held the ability to manipulate souls—perfectly complementing the essence of the Shinigami sealed within him.
He let out a breath and chuckled. So this is where my other self is headed... Toward the realm of the dead.
Could he really summon the Sage of Six Paths from the Pure Land one day?
The thought made him grin—but that smile quickly faded into a contemplative silence.
He recalled the bitter disappointment of his last expedition to the moon.
Despite extensive scanning with chakra perception and even Observation Haki, he had found no trace of Ōtsutsuki Hamura.
But with the divine power of the Sheep Talisman, things might be different now.
And based on his calculations, Ōtsutsuki Toneri was likely close to awakening.
No need to rush, he told himself. Let's deal with them together next time.
Hamura wasn't going anywhere. Timing would be key.
He reminded himself once more—don't act impulsively. After all, the true wild card—the Sage of Six Paths himself—was still out there, hidden.
---
Meanwhile, in the Sarutobi Clan compound...
Sarutobi Asuma and his father, Hiruzen, sat in silence across a low tea table. Neither had spoken for what felt like hours. The teapot had been changed several times.
Finally, Hiruzen broke the silence. "Asuma, you've really grown up."
Asuma looked at his father, a mixture of emotion flickering across his features. Relief, regret, and the quiet sorrow of years lost.
Time passed so quickly.
If only things had been simpler—if only he hadn't been caught between duty and blood.
But he couldn't go back. No one could.
This version of Asuma was far more mature than the rebellious, cigarette-smoking jōnin of the original timeline. Kawaki Aoba's influence had played a part in that. So had the fact that his elder brother, Sarutobi Shinnōsuke, was still alive in this world.
"Asuma, have you really made up your mind?" Sarutobi Hiruzen asked, his voice calm but edged with tension.
Asuma looked up at his father, his expression grave. "That's what I should be asking you, Third Hokage-sama. Clan Head-sama. Father. Have you truly made your decision?"
They stood in quiet opposition, shadows of Konoha's legacy looming over them.
Seiyu once said that a storm marks not the end, but the beginning. For Konoha's future, some things must change. Some truths must be confronted.
Asuma's voice was steady. "A tree can live with withered branches. But it can't survive rotten roots. The question is—what will our Sarutobi clan be, Father?"
He stared directly into Hiruzen's eyes. It wasn't an inquiry. It was a challenge.
Hiruzen, caught off guard by the intensity in his son's gaze, felt a discomfort he rarely experienced—even in council with the elders. But before he could respond, Asuma placed a folder on the table.
It contained intelligence. Highly classified.
The old Hokage's eyes scanned the pages in silence, his face unreadable.
Asuma spoke again. "Setting aside the village's regular forces, our clan commands an additional 3,000 Fire Release specialists. Combine that with our other shinobi... we're talking close to 5,000 ninja. I never realized the Sarutobi clan had become Konoha's most powerful faction."
He exhaled slowly. "And that's not all. Nearly one-fifth of the village's industries are under our clan's influence. And—more concerning—nearly half of the Senju descendants who integrated into Konoha after the Warring States period now carry the Sarutobi name."
Hiruzen's face hardened. "That information... where did you get it?"
Asuma's tone was calm. "Kawaki Aoba. At first, I thought he was exaggerating. We argued. I even accused him of fabricating it. But seeing your reaction, I know now—it's true."
Hiruzen didn't deny it. Instead, he asked, "What is Aoba after? Why send you with this?"
Asuma took a breath. "He's moving against Danzo. He told me this directly. But he also wants you to know what his stance is toward the Sarutobi clan. In his words:
'Sometimes, people in high positions have no choice. Even if you don't act, those around you push you into action. Fighting fate is pointless. What matters is how you guide things afterward.
The Sarutobi clan has grown too large. Further expansion threatens the balance of the village. Whatever decision the Third Hokage makes, Aoba will consider the greater good of Konoha.'"
He paused, then stepped away. "That's all I have to say. The rest is up to you, Father. I'll be outside... having a cigarette."
Asuma walked out, lighting a cigarette—one of the new Konoha-brand ones. Rumor had it Aoba had introduced them. The taste really was better.
Back inside, Hiruzen sat in heavy silence, wrestling with the words of his son—and the implications they carried.
Just then, Biwako Sarutobi entered, silently replacing the old tea with a fresh pot.
"The boy has grown," she said softly. "He's stronger than his brother ever was."
Hiruzen looked at her, surprised by her unexpected interjection.
"I've never interfered in your duties," Biwako continued. "You were the Hokage. You led the clan. But now that Minato is Hokage, your burdens should ease.
Maybe it's time to be just a husband. And a father."
Hiruzen stared at her. For the first time, he saw how age had touched her face.
He chuckled bitterly. "Even you've been won over by that kid?"
Biwako smiled faintly. "I suppose I have. These days I spend time with the other elders, watching other families... it's hard not to admire them. That Aoba has stirred something even in us old folks."
She sat beside him. "Asuma's tone may have been brash, but he's right—the Sarutobi clan has grown too large. It's not like in our days. Sometimes, even I feel uneasy."
Hiruzen nodded slowly. "I underestimated that boy. He struck exactly where it hurts. If only he were a bit older... he might have made a fine Hokage."
---
Elsewhere: Konoha, Kawaki Residence
At the Kawaki estate, Aoba sat across from Yuhi Kurenai, a chessboard between them.
"You really sent Asuma to confront the Third Hokage?" she asked, placing a piece. "That's your plan?"
Aoba moved a piece slowly. "Whether it works isn't the point. The Third Hokage isn't someone you confront directly—unless you want to lose. He's too clean. Every dirty deed? It's all Danzo. Hiruzen left no stains behind."
He paused, smiling faintly. "Even the Sarutobi clan's rise looks organic. But that's just the illusion."
Kurenai narrowed her eyes. "Still, are you sure he'll bend?"
Aoba leaned back. "In politics, it's not about force. It's about pressure. And I've just placed him in check."
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