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

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”This is the general situation. The Hidden Mist front needs immediate reinforcement, and as for Shisui—until the issue there is resolved—recalling him to the Village will be difficult.”

Back in Konoha, Roshi finished delivering his report to Tsunade.

Although he possessed knowledge equivalent to a god’s-eye perspective, he still adhered to protocol: official reports had to be based strictly on what he had witnessed first-hand.

Tsunade leaned against her desk, one elbow propped up, palm supporting her cheek. Her other hand absently twirled a pen between her fingers.

Moments earlier, her mood had been rather good—Roshi returned safely. Shisui was unharmed. Danzo was effectively contained.

The Uchiha Clan had responded enthusiastically to the Ninja Academy openings.

But after listening to Roshi’s full, detailed account…her expression darkened immediately.

”Every time you go out,” she grumbled, ”you come back with a new stack of bad news.”

She sighed, long and weary.

”I’ll speak to the Old Man and have additional personnel sent to reinforce the eastern front.”

”That means Shisui helping Fugaku will be delayed again.”

The Senju Princess rubbed her forehead, visibly irritated.

”This world really doesn’t allow a single day of peace…”

Roshi, however, had a different assessment.

”Shisui returning was only a backup plan in case Fugaku wasn’t proactive enough. But with the current situation, Fugaku can be pushed to act.”

Tsunade waved dismissively. ”Fine. Then you go talk to Fugaku.”

Roshi nodded. Then he reached into his tool pouch and placed a scroll on her desk.

”This also needs your judgment.”

Tsunade raised an eyebrow. ”What now? Didn’t you just finish the written report? Did you write an appendix?”

She untied the cord and unrolled the scroll casually—and her entire expression froze.

Charts, biological analyses, detailed notes, experimental logs… a dense web of research data.

The lighthearted irritation vanished from her face, replaced by grim seriousness.

”On my way back,” Roshi said calmly, ”I encountered Orochimaru. After a short skirmish, he gave me that scroll as a so-called ’token of sincerity.’”

Roshi knew his own limits. He was good at fighting, not fine-grained biological research. Anything involving cell behavior or genetics was far outside his expertise.

Cooperate with Orochimaru?

Even if he ignored the ethical nightmare of Orochimaru’s research…

In any partnership like that, Orochimaru would provide the ’technology,’ and Roshi would—inevitably—become the main ’research material.’

And Roshi had no illusions: there was no trust between them.

Orochimaru might gain everything. Roshi, almost nothing.

Therefore, after confirming the scroll carried no cursed seals—just Orochimaru’s disgusting saliva—Roshi made his decision.

Let Tsunade, or trustworthy village specialists, evaluate its worth.

Tsunade read in silence, line after line.

When she finally finished, she exhaled slowly and rolled the scroll shut.

”This is part of the data from the first major Hashirama cell transplant experiment.”

Roshi’s mind immediately turned to what Grandma once told him—that the initial ’volunteers’ had been their own clan.

So these records… came from the earliest Senju experiments.

And since the experiments were conducted publicly during the Village’s early founding years, the archives should theoretically contain this data.

That meant—

”Orochimaru gave me something I could have found myself?”

Tsunade shook her head.

”No. Many of the details here don’t exist in the Village’s official archives—or are recorded only vaguely, missing key specifics.”

She tapped the scroll.

”And these annotations… these conjectures… they’re Orochimaru’s own. That alone makes the scroll valuable.”

Her amber eyes lifted slowly to meet Roshi’s.

”What exactly did he say to you?”

”He said he wished to cooperate with me on Hashirama cell research,” Roshi replied honestly.

With Roshi’s current strength, there was no need for him to obscure the truth. He could speak openly even before the Third Hokage—much less Tsunade.

Hearing his candid answer, Tsunade felt a subtle weight lift from her shoulders.

Thank goodness it was him.

If another young Senju—someone still carrying deep loyalty and sentiment toward the clan—had been the one to encounter Orochimaru and receive this scroll…

If they had followed their curiosity, dug into the data…

If they learned that the ”experimental records” were carved from the bodies of countless Senju with the Village’s approval…

Then they might have shattered on the spot.

And Orochimaru would have slipped in like poison through a cracked wall.

”Research into Grandpa’s cells began as early as during Grandpa Tobirama’s era,” Tsunade said quietly.

Roshi wasn’t surprised. Considering Hashirama’s physical might and regenerative power, obtaining cells while he lived would’ve been nearly impossible without his consent. And digging up his body after death?

Not unless one had a death wish.

And certainly not while Tsunade was alive.

Besides—given the sheer vitality of Hashirama cells—Roshi wasn’t even sure anything resembling a corpse would remain once the original owner’s will faded.

”If you truly need this knowledge to better control your power,” Tsunade continued, ”I can authorize access to the sealed files. Reading the Village’s original data might give you a different perspective.”

Meanwhile, at a Hidden Location

After being wrenched out of danger by Obito, Kakuzu immediately rounded on Zetsu.

”Hidden Mist will pay the final installment, correct?”

White Zetsu’s face curled into its usual strange grin.

”Of course. The Mizukage is very generous.”

That was all Kakuzu needed. As long as the last payment came in, betrayal, abandonment, political storms—none of it mattered.

He’d lived long enough to see the truth of the Shinobi World:

Only money never lied.

Still, Kakuzu felt the urge to lecture the bounty offices next time he visited.

Did you even investigate?

A ten-million-ryo bounty just because someone said so?

No background checks? No verification? Shouldn’t they blacklist clients this unreliable?

Missing three hearts, Kakuzu felt… hollow.

Time to ”collect” a few replacements.

”Where are you going?” Black Zetsu asked.

”Hidden Mist’s commission is finished. I have other business.”

”Hidden Mist Village will subsequently—”

Kakuzu cut him off.

”Wait for the Leader’s orders. Then notify me.

But next time—if the opponent is this level—the reward had better be far higher.”

Then he turned to the masked ”Tobi.”

”When you officially join the organization… if you end up partnered with me, I’ll permit you… three mistakes.”

Obito instantly switched to his goofy act.

”Ehhhh?! Kakuzu-senpai is sooo kind! Ah—wait—why only three? What happens if I make more?”

Kakuzu ignored the question, instead asking:

”What’s your current bounty in the underworld?”

”Eh? I don’t… think I have one?”

Kakuzu paused, stared, then turned away in deep disappointment and left.

Behind him, Obito continued shouting, ”Kakuzu-senpai, you didn’t answer—!”

”It’s fine,” Kakuzu called back without turning and leaving.

”You won’t be punished.”

Obito dropped the childish tone immediately after Kakuzu left. When he next spoke, his voice was the cold, low resonance of the masked man who called himself Uchiha Madara.

”Hidden Mist has become utterly worthless. Relying on them will never lead to progress.”

Zetsu agreed.

”Then let’s continue hiring rogues. Missing-nin, mercenaries… If we keep using our own members for everything, the Akatsuki’s true power will be exposed too early.”

Obito folded his arms, thinking aloud.

”That is an option. Since the Hidden Mist shinobi have already proven themselves incompetent… perhaps we should just issue missions in the Mizukage’s name and draw in capable desperadoes.”

He paused, recalling a detail.

”Although… Genji said the Land of Water’s Daimyō is already suspicious about the Village’s financial flow. Eventually, we may have to deal with him as well.”

His lone Sharingan narrowed behind the mask.

”For now—let the Hidden Mist scrape together the funds.”

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