Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

Tonbo sampled his way through another town in the Land of Hot Water.

One stall sold crisp cakes filled with fruit. The next offered skewers seasoned with a mineral salt from the hot springs. Tonbo bought anything unfamiliar, ate while walking, and released small Eye-Opening Hand creatures between purchases to continue the search.

Itachi could wait long enough for Tonbo to enjoy the country. Hiruzen had given him no fixed meeting time, and rushing north before the reconnaissance produced a trail would only announce that someone expected Akatsuki.

He examined the puppet knowledge taken from Shizuka’s attacker as he walked.

The machine still depended upon a puppeteer’s chakra lines and familiar control principles. Its articulated shell, tool systems, and enclosed seat nevertheless approached the concept of a scientific ninja tool. The Hundred-Puppet Society had reached several advanced ideas without developing the materials or general theory needed to complete them.

Tonbo separated the design into what could be reproduced and what remained an accident of craft. The enclosed controls allowed a shinobi to use multiple weapons without exposing the body. Replaceable modules turned one puppet into several specialized machines. The chakra interface, however, lost too much energy and assumed a controller trained in traditional puppetry. A true scientific ninja tool would have to make those functions available without first requiring years of invisible-thread practice.

Konoha invested little in comparable work. Most shinobi continued treating chakra inside the body as the only power worth perfecting. Sand possessed the deepest puppet tradition, but even its specialists might fall to Hundred-Puppet Soul Binding without advance knowledge. An opponent who destroyed ninety-nine machines would believe victory close and complete the trap by breaking the hundredth.

That inversion interested Tonbo more than the puppets themselves. The technique turned apparent success into the condition of defeat. It rewarded strength, aggression, and persistence until the target supplied every step needed for the soul binding.

Voices from a nearby stall interrupted Tonbo’s analysis.

”The Shinigami Cult has returned near Clear Spring Mountain.”

”They are taking children for experiments again. Why does the Daimyō do nothing?”

”Lower your voice. They have informants everywhere.”

The cult’s name carried fear throughout Hot Water. It operated as an underground shinobi force, sold violence to merchants and nobles, then fed the money and captives into its experiments. Local authorities condemned it publicly and tolerated clients powerful enough to keep it useful.

Residents spoke as if the organization could hear any accusation made aloud. That reputation required informants, frightened officials, or both. A cult hidden entirely outside the country’s power structure could not repeatedly seize children and return to the same mountain.

Tonbo marked Clear Spring Mountain on his map.

Once he finished eating, he left the road and took to the air.

Another chakra signature stopped him before he reached the mountain.

Orochimaru.

The familiar presence came from a town below, surrounded by dozens of other signatures whose natures varied far more than an ordinary local force. Tonbo descended and traced them beneath the streets.

An entrance disguised as a public restroom opened into a guarded passage. Men and women passed the guards with feverish anticipation. Tonbo hid himself with Body Concealment and walked among them.

The entrance explained why so much chakra could gather beneath an ordinary town without creating a visible fortress. Spectators arrived in small groups, paid at different doors, and disappeared underground. Guards examined invitations and weapons while Tonbo’s illusion placed him outside their notice.

The tunnel ended at a vast underground arena.

Spectators filled tiered seats around a barrier-covered pit. Their cheers struck like thunder.

”Mad Wolf has to win. I will recover everything my family lost.”

”The Duke will tear him apart.”

One man shouted that he had sold his wife to finance the wager. No one near him looked away from the pit.

The house accepted money from every side and therefore profited regardless of the winner. Odds changed on illuminated boards as each technique appeared. People who had lost fortunes convinced themselves the next secret jutsu would return everything.

Two powerful chakra signatures faced one another below.

Mad Wolf already wore a partial animal form. Fur covered his arms, his hands ended in claws, and his altered legs carried him around volleys of shuriken with violent speed.

His opponent looked like a nobleman attending a private dinner. Red hair framed a composed face, and one hand held a clear stemmed glass filled with dark red liquid.

Mad Wolf howled.

The arena barrier rose to contain the sound. The glass shattered in the Duke’s hand, but crimson mist caught both the shards and the attack passing through them.

”Water carries sound,” the Duke said. ”Blood does as well. You cannot defeat me with that.”

He snapped his fingers.

Countless bats formed around him and answered Mad Wolf’s howl with a shrieking wave of their own.

Mad Wolf formed seals inside the noise.

”I will become one of Yashiro En’s guards. You die here.”

His body expanded.

Hands became forepaws, feet became hind legs, and the transformation continued until a wolf three stories tall filled the pit. The audience screamed the name of his ultimate technique while he crossed the arena in one bound.

The Duke did not retreat.

”Blood Release: Blood Piercing.”

The red liquid from the broken glass had already spread around Mad Wolf. Threads of it sharpened, crossed, and passed through the giant body from every direction.

Blood carried the sound of the howl just as the Duke had warned, but he used that conduction to locate the transformed body through the barrier’s distortion. The bats forced Mad Wolf to enlarge himself; the scattered liquid ensured that greater size presented more paths for Blood Piercing.

The wolf collapsed as the blood left him. His body shrank back toward human form, withered by the technique that used his own blood as part of the attack.

The Duke gathered the remaining liquid and walked toward the competitors’ exit.

”Power without thought would make you a useless guard. The position is mine.”

Tonbo watched with open interest.

Mad Wolf’s transformation resembled the Akimichi clan’s body expansion while following an animal pattern. The Duke possessed a bloodline limit Tonbo had never encountered, controlling blood in combat and using it to transmit, defend, and pierce.

Orochimaru’s presence beneath the arena now made sense.

The matches recruited guards for Yashiro En, one of Hot Water’s richest underground merchants. A successful fighter could earn three million ryō a year, enough security to attract rare shinobi unwilling to accept the wider danger of village missions. Yashiro En intended to hire an entire team.

Across the shinobi world, nobles and merchants used similar arenas to discover specialized bodyguards. The competitors often possessed one exceptional secret technique or bloodline rather than the broad training of a hidden-village jōnin. Life-and-death experience made them dangerous anyway.

A village jōnin might earn less in a quiet year and much more from one S-rank mission. Arena guards accepted a ceiling in exchange for predictable employment and enemies limited by a patron’s business. For missing-nin with nowhere safe to return, that bargain could look generous.

Tonbo looked toward the private rooms where Orochimaru’s chakra waited.

The arena was a market for exactly the bodies and information both researchers wanted.