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

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When Shisui and his team arrived, the scene before them sent a chill down every spine present.

The entire area looked as if a natural disaster had briefly descended—earth torn open, trees snapped and uprooted, and the sharp stench of scorched soil still lingering in the air.

All of this devastation… from a battle between only two people.

Shisui immediately activated his Sharingan, scanning the ravaged terrain. His gaze locked onto Roshi standing in one of the few patches of ground that remained mostly intact.

Unharmed.

Only then did the tightness in Shisui’s chest ease. Still, astonishment flickered behind his eyes. Itachi had spoken highly of his captain, but Shisui hadn’t imagined this level of destructive power.

”Are you alright?” Shisui asked anyway, stepping closer. ”The ninja you were fighting—where is he?”

”I’m fine,” Roshi replied. ”He was taken away.”

”Taken… away?” Shisui’s brows rose. There was another one?

Roshi nodded. ”The one who intervened wore a tiger-patterned mask with only one visible eye. He uses space–time Ninjutsu—extremely fast activation, almost no warning.”

He succinctly described Obito’s appearance and emphasized the abnormal speed and intangibility of his technique.

He did not mention that the man was an Uchiha.

The four Uchiha present might react in unpredictable—and dangerous—ways.

Best case, they’d be righteously furious and try to hunt the traitor.

Worst case, they’d see a powerful unknown Uchiha as someone worth approaching.

Either path ended with corpses.

Without Mangekyo, facing Obito was nothing but willingly becoming Izanagi fodder.

Shisui’s expression turned grave. ”A space–time technique with near-instant activation… then normal Ninjutsu or Taijutsu might not even touch him.”

The others came to the same realization. They had been fighting along this border for weeks—yet none of them had known a monster like this lurked nearby.

Shisui continued quietly, ”Even with my eyes… I might only have one shot. A Genjutsu at the moment of contact. Otherwise…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

Roshi exhaled once. ”Shisui, I’m returning to the Village immediately.”

He surveyed the gouged earth around them. ”The pressure on the eastern coastline will rise after this. I need to report directly to Lord Third and push for reinforcement.”

He added, ”As for the two who escaped—there’s no guarantee they’ll appear again. The one I fought is named Kakuzu. He’s… immortal, in a way. To kill him, all five of his masks must be destroyed.”

He relayed every detail he knew about Kakuzu—abilities, weaknesses, the nature of his masks—ensuring Shisui’s team had at least a theoretical countermeasure.

Then, he looked directly at Shisui.

”Be careful.”

Shisui caught the weight behind the words. Not just Kakuzu. Not just the masked space–time user.

Orochimaru.

With the current state of the front, their forces were stretched thin.

After warning them, Roshi didn’t linger.

In a flicker, he vanished into the forest—racing back toward Konoha.

The sudden appearance of Kakuzu and Uchiha Obito was an unexpected divergence from the original timeline…

likely triggered by one thing:

Konoha’s situation was stabilizing—and far stronger than it was supposed to be.

At this point in the original timeline, the conflict between the Uchiha and Konoha should have already reached the point of no return.

Fugaku’s final gambit was to send Uchiha Itachi into the Anbu—a desperate gesture to buy time for a peace that was already slipping through his fingers.

In such a situation, Obito would have focused most of his attention inward, tightening the noose around the Uchiha Clan and loosening his control over the far-away Hidden Mist.

But now?

He seemed intent on using Hidden Mist to apply external pressure on Konoha, stirring chaos from the outskirts.

Ironically, this was… good news.

Obito possessed tremendous individual power, yes—but the ability to actually govern a major ninja village? He lacked the temperament, the patience, and the slightest inclination.

From his actions after seizing control of the Fourth Mizukage, it was apparent that his desire for vengeance and cruelty far outweighed any long-term strategic thinking. He did not want to manage Hidden Mist.

He wanted to punish it.

But a Kage cannot rule a village on strength alone—not without earning its trust, or at least its fear.

Otherwise, apathy spreads through the lower ranks, doubt festers among the middle ranks, and quiet resistance grows among the upper ranks… until the Kage stands alone, a ruler in name only.

Even a powerful Kage cannot force an entire village to function if every layer beneath them chooses to slacken.

Unless, of course, one is Hashirama Senju himself.

And Hidden Mist was clearly showing signs of collapse.

If Obito continued tightening the reins, morale would only drop faster, and contradictions within the village would intensify—inevitably turning inward.

In the end, Hidden Mist would consume itself from within, too weakened to threaten anyone externally.

Ironically, Konoha’s pressure might lighten as a result.

Roshi had reached this conclusion when a sudden foul wind swept in from his flank.

Even as he stepped off a branch, mid-leap, a massive dark-brown serpent—its body covered in jagged scales—burst from the canopy below, jaws yawning wide to swallow him whole.

The jaws snapped shut.

A beat of silence.

Then—

A deafening, agonized hiss tore through the forest.

The snake’s body convulsed violently as a massive, bloody cavity exploded open in its abdomen.

Roshi stepped out of the creature’s torn belly, fist slick with gore but expression unchanged, landing atop its writhing form.

A moment later, wooden spikes erupted violently from within the snake—piercing through its eyes, bursting from its mouth, stabbing out between its scales.

In mere breaths, its struggles ceased.

The monster collapsed, flattening the undergrowth beneath it.

”Orochimaru…” Roshi said, flicking away clinging slime from his hand, ”You owe me compensation for these clothes.”

”Kukukuku…”

A low, sinister laugh echoed from a nearby tree.

Orochimaru slid out from the trunk like a serpent shedding its skin, golden eyes gleaming with delight.

”Roshi-kun, if you are willing to assist my research,” he purred, ”I can provide you with all the clothes you desire.”

He regarded Roshi standing atop the dead summon, as though appraising a rare specimen.

”I assumed I wouldn’t see you for some time. And yet… it seems you’ve been enjoying a rather long vacation.”

Roshi replied with disarming calm, ”Thanks to you, Orochimaru, I had to work overtime. I’ll be expecting payment for that as well.”

”Ah… so Danzo’s little ploy didn’t fool you entirely.”

Orochimaru smiled, amusement glittering in his eyes.

”Truly, he’s been left behind by the times.”

”The once sharp, decisive Darkness of Konoha… now reduced to a stepping stone for the next generation.”

His tone deepened, eyes narrowing in hunger.

”To surpass time itself… to grasp all knowledge… to transcend every boundary—this is why I pursue eternity, Roshi-kun.”

”Your Wood Release… your body that harmonizes with Hashirama’s cells…”

Orochimaru’s smile curled into something cold and greedy.

”It’s rare for you to travel so far from Konoha alone.”

”I’d be remiss if I let such an opportunity slip away.”

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