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

Bring Tsunade back and make her Hokage.

That thought had lingered in Roshi’s mind ever since Danzo came to see him.

Cooperation? Or a mutual game of manipulation and counter-manipulation?

He had no interest in getting dragged into Danzo’s endless web of schemes. But sitting still and waiting for the elder—who wielded far greater political power—to make the first move wasn’t an option either.

Bringing Tsunade back to the village was, without a doubt, a bold gamble.

If it didn’t work out, he’d find another way.

Roshi removed his Konoha forehead protector and stripped off his recognizable flak vest. Beneath it, he still wore a fitted black top and trousers—light, flexible, and made of the same material as Gai’s infamous green jumpsuit.

To be honest, it was surprisingly comfortable. Even Anko and Itachi had agreed.

He smeared two purple stripes across his cheeks, a minor disguise, then pulled on a red long coat trimmed in gold. Around his wrists were specially treated bandages—within them, ninja tools sealed through his own applied fūinjutsu. Learning sealing had finally found some creative use.

Finally, he strapped a sword to his back. A visible weapon was often the best deterrent to unnecessary trouble.

Roshi knew the road to the Land of Hot Water well. He had crossed this route countless times during missions to the eastern front. Years ago, it had been a tense battlefield between Konoha and Kumogakure—until the alliance treaty finally ended the bloodshed.

Now, though, the path was quiet. Konoha’s stationed outposts were few, their flags faded.

Even so, he occasionally spotted Kumogakure shinobi. Under the treaty’s terms, Konoha had ceded part of the Land of Hot Water’s mission quota to them.

As for the opinion of the local ninja of Yugakure?

There wasn’t much of one left. After years of being trampled between two great villages, those who had once objected were long dead. The survivors had neither strength nor will to care.

Though it still bore the title of a ”Hidden Village,” Yugakure had become little more than a peaceful tourist town, its economy built on its famous hot springs. The daimyo still paid them regularly, but most mission contracts flowed to Konoha—and now Kumogakure had a legitimate foothold in the country.

Tsunade, however, wasn’t hard to track. Her habits were too distinctive. The legendary ”Sucker” left a trail of debt and frustration wherever she went.

Roshi followed the clues through inns and casinos, but every trail ended with the same answer—she had already left the Land of Hot Water.

According to the last casino owner, she’d gone east, supposedly ”to see the local culture.” The owner sighed regretfully, wondering if his hospitality had been too poor to make her stay longer.

”From the Land of Hot Water… further east, huh?”

Roshi unfolded his map. Between the Land of Hot Water and the Land of Frost lay a small nation—the Land of Cedar.

Along its coast was a bustling trading hub called Watari Yokochō. If Tsunade was truly heading east, that was her likely destination. Without wasting time, Roshi set out immediately.

As he neared the outskirts of Watari Yokochō, his pace slowed. The forest ahead carried faint but unmistakable signs of battle—shattered branches, blood that hadn’t yet dried, and trees scorched with Lightning Release burns.

The marks were fresh, unmistakable. These weren’t left by ordinary bandits.

’Kumogakure shinobi… but who were they fighting?’

Having fought countless battles against Kumo-nin in his previous life, Roshi recognized their jutsu patterns instantly.

He pulled out several thin wooden tags created from his wood release, carving the Flying Thunder God formula into each, and discreetly placed them within his teleportation range—inside cracks, beneath soil, under rocks.

When he was done, he stepped into the town.

Watari Yokochō’s ”prosperity” was relative. The streets weren’t crowded, but the number of ninja was alarmingly high. Several groups of Kumogakure shinobi, forehead protectors gleaming, were spread throughout the area—too organized to be coincidence.

They made no effort to conceal their presence. That alone told Roshi enough: someone of high status was here.

He moved naturally with the crowd, observing. From their spacing and lines of sight, he deduced the center of their protection—an area near a tavern in the middle of town.

There, sitting outside the tavern, was another squad of Kumo-nin.

And through the open window, Roshi’s gaze immediately caught a flash of golden-blonde hair.

Tsunade.

She sat at a table inside, a bottle of sake in front of her, Shizune by her side with a pink piglet nestled in her arms.

But it wasn’t Tsunade who made Roshi’s eyes narrow—it was the man standing beside her table. Broad-shouldered. Bronze-skinned. Blond hair cropped short.

The Fourth Raikage, A.

Roshi steadied his breath, eyes flicking around the room. The tavern wasn’t empty—plenty of ”ordinary” patrons sat scattered inside, though some looked too composed to be mere civilians.

At the entrance, the Kumo-nin didn’t stop anyone from entering. Interesting.

After a moment’s thought, Roshi decided to walk straight in.

”Hey,” one of the guards called out as he approached.

”You…” The ninja leaned forward, squinting. ”You don’t look old enough to drink.”

Roshi’s face twitched.

’Really? Out of all the things you could ask, that’s your concern?’

He was ready to cut his way through, and they were worrying about his age.

”Little brother,” another added kindly, ”alcohol’s nice and all, but you shouldn’t start too early.”

”Uh—no, actually, I can already—”

”Alright, you two!” their captain snapped. ”Don’t harass him.”

He nodded at Roshi, motioning for him to go inside.

”Captain, he really looks underage…”

”I think so too…”

”Kids are curious; no need to scare them off…”

Roshi exhaled sharply and pushed open the tavern door.

Inside, the buzz of chatter faded for a moment as Tsunade turned toward the sound.

Already flushed from sake, the Legendary Sucker squinted at him, her gaze hazy yet sharp.

”…You look familiar…”

”Ah!”

Recognition flared. She shot up, brushed past the Raikage, and strode straight toward Roshi.

Grabbing him by the collar, she glared.

”You little brat! I catch you sneaking into a place like this! You trying to drink now, huh?!”

Her grip tightened, shaking him lightly.

”Before, you acted all high and mighty—’Drink less, Lady Tsunade!’—and now you’re sneaking into bars yourself?! You wanna see what it feels like to pickle yourself in alcohol?!”

Dangling by his collar, Roshi’s expression didn’t even twitch.

’I must’ve been out of my mind thinking about bringing her back to be Hokage.’

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