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

”The Fourth Mizukage… has been controlled all this time?!”

Genji had lived long enough to believe he had seen everything the Ninja World could offer—but a Kage being manipulated for years without detection was far beyond his expectations.

A Kage was not merely a symbol. They stood at the apex of a village precisely because of their overwhelming strength.

Yet Genji forced himself to steady his breathing. This was not the moment to unravel how or when Yagura had fallen under control.

What mattered was the opportunity before them.

Ao’s Byakugan had confirmed it—at this very moment, only Yagura remained inside the Mizukage Office. The foreign chakra, the mark of the one pulling the strings, was nowhere to be found.

That window might last only minutes.

They had to act now.

Genji immediately summoned Mei and Zabuza.

”Yagura-sama… the Mizukage is under genjutsu?” Mei blurted out, shock breaking through her usual composure.

Zabuza’s eyes narrowed, disbelief etched across his scarred face.

”That’s ridiculous. He’s a Jinchūriki. That shouldn’t even be possible.”

”There’s no time for debate,” Genji snapped. ”The details can wait.”

”You two—follow Ao. Move at top speed to the Mizukage Building.”

”Ao will reconfirm the interior with his Byakugan. The moment it’s certain the controller isn’t nearby, you will act—without hesitation.”

A dangerous glint flashed in the old elder’s eyes.

”The one hiding behind the scenes will return. We must strike before he even realizes his control has been broken.”

Land of Waves—Temporary Assembly Point

From a distant ridge, Obito surveyed the camp below.

The first wave of hired mercenaries had arrived. Compared to Kirigakure’s shinobi, they were little more than a rabble—undisciplined, unruly, and suspicious of one another.

Squads clustered apart, weapons half-raised, eyes filled with mistrust.

Obito was unconcerned.

This wasn’t a battlefield campaign. It was harassment, chaos by attrition. Preparations were unnecessary.

The target was the Land of Fire—one of the Five Great Nations. Facing Konohagakure meant the risk was immense, and the price reflected that.

Every mercenary here demanded exorbitant payment.

The advance deposits alone had drained vast sums, and once operations officially began, wages would be paid daily, upfront.

Before the mission had even started, more than half of the funds Genji had allocated through the Mizukage Office were already gone.

”Zetsu,” Obito asked quietly, ”you said Orochimaru accepted the commission?”

”Yep~!” White Zetsu replied cheerfully. ”He changed his appearance a bit.”

Zetsu pointed toward a shadowed corner of the camp.

There stood a tall, slender man draped in gloom. Several equally silent subordinates lingered behind him, their presence unsettling.

Obito’s single eye narrowed.

Orochimaru.

A faint sense of unease crept into his chest—but alongside it, something else.

Interest.

Konoha was strong. Stronger than it had been in years.

Nagato, with the Rinnegan, was also overwhelmingly powerful—and Obito knew methods to push that power even further.

But that was precisely the problem.

Nagato becoming too powerful would disrupt the balance. Obito had no intention of surrendering control of the Akatsuki—or the Eye of the Moon Plan—to anyone.

Not even to Uchiha Madara.

The pieces were moving faster than expected.

And someone, somewhere, was about to break free from his grasp.

The shape of the perfect world to be created would be decided by him alone.

Because of that, Obito preferred to recruit elite shinobi—exceptionally strong, yet incapable of threatening his ultimate plan. Only by carefully balancing power within the Akatsuki could he maintain absolute leverage, both over the organization itself and against Konoha.

Orochimaru, in particular, was tempting.

One of the legendary Sannin. A former high-ranking Konoha ninja. If someone like him could be drawn into Akatsuki’s orbit, their operations against Konoha would become far more efficient.

But Orochimaru was dangerous in a different way.

Unpredictable. Insatiably curious. Even now, Obito had no intention of approaching him directly—too much contact risked exposing his own existence.

Still, this mission presented a convenient opportunity.

A test.

”Have them launch the attack before dawn,” Obito said quietly. ”Zetsu—keep a close eye on Orochimaru’s movements.”

”Got it~” Zetsu replied, already sinking into the earth to relay the order.

Within the temporary camp, the disguised Orochimaru surveyed the gathered rogue ninja with thinly veiled interest.

Anyone daring enough to accept a commission targeting Konoha possessed at least some measure of strength. If a battle truly erupted, his experimental subjects would surely grow richer.

Nearby, the Root squad accompanying Orochimaru quietly observed the camp as well—counting numbers, memorizing positions, mapping the terrain.

Root existed to eliminate internal threats to Konoha, not to betray it.

Discovering the assembly point of mercenaries planning an assault on the Land of Fire was an unexpected windfall.

When Zetsu appeared and announced the order to attack before dawn, a ripple of agitation passed through the camp.

Amid the subtle chaos, one Root operative slipped away.

He needed to deliver this intelligence to the Land of Fire immediately.

Orochimaru noticed the departure.

He chose not to stop it.

Accepting the Hidden Mist’s commission served his own interests, nothing more. It did not mean he was eager to clash with Konoha just yet.

In fact, as Zetsu finished relaying the order and began to sink back into the ground, Orochimaru deliberately drifted in that direction—drawing attention, masking the Root operative’s escape.

—

After concluding his conversation with the Third Hokage, Roshi stepped into the dim corridor and immediately sensed someone waiting.

An Anbu in a cat mask stood in the shadows.

Even with his face hidden, Roshi recognized the familiar build and hair at once.

”Lady Tsunade instructed that once you finish speaking with the Sandaime, you are to return immediately,” Itachi said evenly. ”There is a backlog of documents.”

”At least let me breathe for a moment, Itachi,” Roshi replied with a helpless sigh.

Instead of heading toward the Hokage Office, he stepped onto the corridor window and vaulted upward. In a few fluid movements, he landed on the rooftop.

Itachi followed without a sound, touching down beside him like a shadow.

”How does Anbu feel?” Roshi asked.

”I expected it to be more complicated,” Itachi answered honestly.

”Different roles,” Roshi said.

”Yes. I understand.”

Before Itachi joined Anbu, Roshi had already explained the purpose of their Uchiha branch.

They were not there for the most dangerous covert missions. Their role was symbolic as much as practical—patrols, security, visible contribution. Once enough merit was accumulated, the other members of Itachi’s squad would be transferred out into different departments.

Itachi, however, would remain.

He would decide who among the Uchiha entered Anbu next—and whether they stayed, moved to field operations, or transitioned elsewhere within the village.

”You’ll probably be stuck in that uniform for a few more years,” Roshi said lightly. ”I’ll be relying on you until then.”

”This was my choice,” Itachi replied calmly. ”Compared to that, Captain, you are the one who seems more—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Another Anbu appeared on the rooftop in a blur of motion.

”Urgent intelligence,” the newcomer said. ”Jōnin Roshi—Lady Tsunade orders you to report immediately.”

The wind shifted.

Something was about to happen.

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