In the Land of Rain, the eternal drizzle had intensified into a torrential downpour.
"Kyosuke and Chisuke, those two lazy brats, actually went offline to rest their injuries. I've been way too lenient with them. They've developed a terrible habit of taking vacations whenever they get a scratch."
Outside a muddy bandit camp, Ooka Shin stood holding an oil-paper umbrella. A young boy named Masao stood quietly beside him.
"How do you feel?" Shin asked casually. "About killing someone for the first time?"
Masao felt his throat go completely dry. He swallowed a mouthful of saliva, the rain pounding against the umbrella above them.
"Nervous," Masao said succinctly. "Sad. Resistant. Confused."
After speaking, the boy lowered his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Big Brother Shin. I've let you down. I don't really want to kill anyone."
"Hahaha!"
Ooka Shin laughed cheerfully. His bright laughter echoed loudly through the rain, instantly attracting the attention of the sentries at the bandit camp.
"Very good, Masao. Remember exactly how you feel right now. No matter how many people you have to kill in the future, even if taking a life becomes an instinct, never forget this heavy feeling."
Masao was surprised by these words. He looked up in confusion. "Why? Shouldn't a ninja completely discard their emotions? If a tool's emotions are too complex, they'll interfere with the mission."
At that moment, the bandits finally spotted the two boys in the rain. Drawing their rusted blades, they rushed out of the camp with grim, predatory smiles.
Ooka Shin took a step back. He pulled the umbrella away, exposing Masao to the freezing, pouring rain, and calmly delivered his answer.
"Masao, I never intended to train you into an emotionless killing machine. I only want you to become a strong person."
"A person must have emotions. A human being should despise the act of killing."
In the dense, freezing rain, Masao's vision blurred. The water was biting cold, but his chest felt incredibly warm.
He had always believed that Shin only saved him to forge a valuable, disposable tool. I once made up my mind to become Shin's unfeeling blade. I never thought... he actually wanted me to live as a human being.
Masao stood in the mud, his arms hanging low. He gripped his long sword tightly, the tip resting heavily against the earth.
"Ahahaha! Look at him, this kid is scared stiff!" a bandit mocked.
"If we capture them alive and sell them, we'll make a fortune!"
"Kid, hand over that sword!"
The bandits rushed him. The man in front, his eyes filled with sheer greed for the fine steel in Masao's hand, reached out to snatch it.
Slash!
The blade cut a flawless silver arc through the rain. Blood sprayed hot into the cold air. The bandit clutched his severed throat, collapsing silently into the mud.
The gleam of the blade, the spray of blood, the furious roars, and the desperate wails soon filled the entire camp.
It was a monotonous, efficient slaughter. And it ended quickly.
Splash. Splash.
With uneven, exhausted steps, Masao walked over one corpse after another. He dragged his sword out of the camp, his own minor wounds bleeding slightly, leaving faint red trails in the puddles behind him.
The Uzumaki clan's physical constitution is absurd, Shin thought, watching the boy. He's not afraid of intense training, he heals quickly from wounds, and his combat strength is increasing way faster than mine. I really stumbled upon a monstrous genius.
Shin felt a twinge of genuine jealousy, laughing speechlessly at his own luck.
"Did you take care of all of them?"
"I took care of all of them."
"Don't think I'm being heartless, making you do this," Shin said gently. "Your talent is incredibly high; it absolutely cannot be wasted. This world is a cruel, sorrowful place. You must become strong enough to reject that sorrow and live your life on your own terms."
Hearing Shin's words, Masao recalled the past tragedies of his ruined village and nodded with absolute resolution.
"I understand. I will do everything in my power to become stronger!"
Seeing the fire in Masao's eyes, Ooka Shin smiled. "You're already doing great. It won't be long before you completely surpass me. To be honest, I'm a little jealous."
Hearing this rare praise, Masao's heart swelled. The lingering darkness of the slaughter was instantly dispelled by the bright sunlight in his chest.
"Shin, I will follow you forever."
Ooka Shin stepped forward, opening the umbrella to shield the boy from the downpour once more. "Let's go. We're heading home to drink hot fish soup!"
"Yes!"
A few hours later, an umbrella and two drenched boys appeared at the entrance of Maple Leaf Canyon. They were immediately greeted by an Akatsuki guard.
"Shin! The leader is looking for you. It's urgent!"
Hearing this, Masao felt a pang of profound disappointment, assuming their hot fish soup plans were ruined. But then Shin spoke up.
"I'm just a growing kid. I can't go hungry, or I won't grow tall. I'll see the leader after I eat."
If it were truly a life-or-death emergency, they wouldn't just wait at the gate for me. They would have sent squads to find me. If they can wait for me to walk home, they can wait for me to eat.
"Come on, Masao. Let's go eat!"
A moment later, in the organization's meeting room, Yahiko received the guard's report and was left entirely speechless.
"I am the leader! Shin is way too disrespectful to my authority!"
Konan covered her mouth, laughing softly. "I knew this would happen. It's right on time for lunch anyway. Let's just go eat with them."
Nagato nodded in agreement. "Ever since Shin cooked that one time, I realized his culinary skills are exceptional. Hehe."
"Alright, fine. Let's go," Yahiko sighed in defeat.
As the trio left, Kyusuke pulled Daibutsu aside. "Ooka Shin's background is highly suspicious. The leader trusts him way too much. This could be a massive problem for us in the future."
Daibutsu remained silent for a moment before replying objectively. "We all have dark pasts in the Land of Rain. The leader has never investigated any of ours. We cannot predict the future, Kyusuke."
Kyusuke stubbornly insisted. "Hmph! Shin's words and strategies are too cunning for a kid his age. I'm worried the leader is being manipulated. We must keep a close eye on him!"
Meanwhile, Ooka Shin's small quarters quickly became crowded, forcing him to cook extra portions for the intruding leaders.
"Hey, remember to pay up for the meal! Even the boss doesn't get to eat for free in this economy!"
After the meal, Shin genuinely planned to collect his money, but Yahiko acted as if he had suddenly gone deaf, smoothly shifting to business.
"Today, we received a formal letter from the Amegakure shinobi. Hanzou of the Salamander hopes to meet with us."
Konan and Nagato began clearing the dishes. Outside, Masao practiced his swings in the courtyard. Shin sat back in his chair, crossed his legs, picked his teeth with a splinter, and sighed.
"Ah. I guess Hanzo saw the storm of war brewing on the horizon. He remembers the tragic fate of Amegakure during the last war, so he wants to test us to see if we're a useful ally or a hidden threat."
The Land of Rain was sandwiched directly between the Land of Fire, the Land of Earth, and the Land of Wind. Its geographical position made it the ultimate strategic meat grinder.
During the Second Ninja World War, the Leaf, Sand, and Stone had turned the entire country into their personal battlefield.
Yet, Hanzou's personal strength was so terrifying that he fought all three Great Villages to a standstill, maintaining Amegakure's independence and earning the legendary title of "Demigod."
In the entire history of the Shinobi World, the only other person referred to as a "God" was Hashirama Senju. Hanzo was the closest thing to him alive.
Yahiko nodded seriously. Shin's casual analysis perfectly matched the grim reality.
"So, how should we respond? We cannot let Hanzo underestimate us, nor can we afford to make him hostile. In this coming war, only by uniting the Land of Rain can we survive."
Ooka Shin racked his brain, recalling the political and corporate strategies from his past life, and slowly began to lay out a master plan.