Capítulo 40: 40 - A Toast to Revolution
Konan understood what Shin meant. Her fingers twisted the hem of her sleeve, a nervous habit she'd never quite outgrown.
"We... really can't avoid becoming enemies with Hanzō, can we?"
Shin nodded.
He wasn't the type of protagonist in female-oriented novels who kept things from those closest to him. However, Konan seemed to have misunderstood him slightly.
"Is it because of me?"
"?" Shin was genuinely puzzled by her train of thought.
"Is it because I mentioned that I didn't like it there? Is that why you decided to do this, Shin?"
Shin laughed. He reached out to pat Konan's head, comforting the girl who was feeling inexplicably guilty.
"It has nothing to do with you, so don't overthink it." Still trying to find personal reasons for political necessities. She needs to learn to think bigger.
"Then why?" But suddenly, Konan grew agitated. "Why must we be so desperate? Isn't it nice to live peacefully like this, with everyone together?"
After hesitating a while, Konan anxiously twisted her hands before finally mustering up the courage to speak. "I... I don't really care that much about those ideals. I just want to... I just want to be with..."
For a moment, Shin was quite touched.
Even though he had long seen through Konan's character and could predict her behavior with clarity, when she said this in front of him, he still felt moved.
It was essentially like a girl telling you straightforwardly that she cared more about you than her ideals.
However, he, unfortunately, interrupted her before she could finish the most crucial part of her sentence. Some truths matter more than feelings. I can't let sentiment cloud what needs to be done.
He understood Konan's feelings, but he also knew he could not afford to stop here.
"Konan," he said firmly. "I told you, this has nothing to do with you. We have to do this. Otherwise, all of us will die."
"Why?" Konan still didn't understand, her eyes searching his face for answers. "Can't we avoid provoking Hanzō?"
Shin smiled, shaking his head at Konan's naive thinking. Breaking idealism requires careful dismantling. Like performing surgery—you have to cut precisely to heal properly.
"If we don't provoke him, do you think he'll just trust us?"
"But..."
"Don't tell me you're still thinking people can understand each other."
Konan blushed in embarrassment. Under his guidance, she had come to realize that mutual understanding was just a naive fantasy.
"If we don't take action or try to explain ourselves, will Hanzō necessarily trust us?"
"For instance, if I went to Yahiko now and told him I was tired and giving up, would he really believe me without question?"
Konan opened her mouth to speak, but in the end, nothing came out. Could she honestly say Yahiko would believe it? Even she didn't believe that.
"This is the third lesson I want to teach you, Konan. It's an extension of the first lesson. In the first lesson, I mentioned: mutual understanding can only occur among people who share similar positions, experiences, and identities."
"Conversely, if people differ in those respects and have conflicting interests, they'll enter a chain of suspicion. Even if we choose to live peacefully now, Akatsuki remains a threat to Hanzō's dominance in the Land of Rain."
"He can't trust that we will settle for our current situation. And even if he claims he trusts us, we can't be sure he genuinely does. Even if we say we trust him, he can't be certain we're telling the truth."
"Suspicion will keep cycling endlessly."
Konan was silent.
"Then... is there truly no way?"
Shin chuckled, answering lightly, "There is." Always give them hope before the harsh truth. It makes the medicine easier to swallow.
"What is it?"
"Do what I'm doing now: strike first. In a confrontation in the dark forest, the side that throws the first shuriken gains the advantage."
Her bright expression quickly faded into a look of bitterness. However, this time, she didn't try to persuade Shin to give up.
"So... our past ideals were truly naive," Konan murmured softly.
Shin didn't comfort her or deny it. Because it was true. Some wounds needed to bleed before they can heal properly.
To believe that people can unconditionally understand each other? Impossible. Even unification could only force cooperation
After a moment of disappointment, Konan gathered herself, even more resolutely taking Shin's hand. "I'll always stay by your side."
"Thank you, Konan."
"What about Nagato? You seem to be avoiding him recently," she asked, her sharp intuition showing through once again.
"Nagato relies heavily on Yahiko; he may not understand quickly, so there's no rush to tell him. Besides, letting him continue efforts toward reconciliation with Hanzō won't hurt us."
But in truth, he had only one reason: Shin was consciously guarding against Black Zetsu.
The system's latest update had clearly indicated that Black Zetsu would play a role in his death in just over a hundred days. It was an unmistakable hint: something foul was probably already eyeing them.
Things were exactly as he expected.
That afternoon, while Nagato was training some new recruits in a clearing outside the base, three figures appeared just outside his sensory range. They emerged from a tree like pitcher plants, one black and two white, their forms seeming to melt out of the very bark itself.
Black Zetsu sighed. "Who would've thought that so much would change around the Rinnegan after only a few years of Madara's slumber." The rain passed right through his shadowy form, never touching him.
One of the White Zetsu spoke in monotone, like a living data recorder. "Observation: in the past 180 days, Rinnegan activity index abnormally elevated. Cause: unknown." Its blank face showed no emotion as it continued its endless monitoring.
This White Zetsu had been monitoring Nagato since Madara left him with the Rinnegan, recording data without much intelligence. Below in the clearing, Nagato demonstrated a technique to the recruits, unaware of the eyes watching his every move.
The other White Zetsu, more lively, watched for a while before turning and saying, "We've been watching here for over an hour, and none of them have gone to the bathroom! Don't they ever get curious about the feeling?"
The cheerful White Zetsu, the unique 'Tobi' of the original series, had an unusual fixation with bowel movements.
Black Zetsu twitched with irritation. If intelligent White Zetsu weren't so rare, he would've tossed this one back into the Gedo Statue to remake it.
He had lived for thousands of years, and especially in recent decades, he encountered Madara, making him believe this was the closest he had ever come to achieving his dream.
Deceiving Madara was his proudest accomplishment, and since then, he viewed everyone in the ninja world as mere ants.
Not long ago, he arrived in the Land of Rain. After hearing White Zetsu's report, he admitted that Shin had done well. But that sentiment only lasted for a brief instant.
This one shows promise, but like all others, he'll serve only as a stepping stone.
Next, he began to orchestrate what he believed to be the wheel of destiny. Due to his arrogance and prejudice, he did not pursue Shin too closely, keeping his attention mostly fixed on Nagato.
Thus, he was unaware that Shin was preparing for battle.
From Nagato's perspective, Akatsuki largely maintained the same interactions with Hanzō as before, remaining respectful and close.
Black Zetsu, therefore, assumed that the Akatsuki was still clinging to its laughable and childish ideals.
Naturally, his methods of intervention remained the same as ever.
That night, in Ame, a ninja had just left a bar, shoving away a scantily clad woman and swaggering into an alley to relieve himself. The perfect target—drunk, alone, and connected to Hanzō's inner circle.
Just as he reached for his belt, something slapped onto his face from the shadows.
A white, gelatinous substance like mercury seeped in, flowing into his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. What... what's happening to me? I can't...
The terrified Ame ninja tried to scream, but White Zetsu's spores clogged his mouth, stifling his voice. His fingers clawed uselessly at his face, leaving red welts that quickly disappeared under the spreading whiteness.
Within seconds, White Zetsu's spores had completely overtaken his brain. The man's struggles grew weaker, his consciousness fading like a candle in the rain.
After the transformation was complete, a few white patches briefly appeared on the Ame ninja's forehead and cheeks, only to quickly fade until they matched his skin tone exactly. The possessed ninja straightened up, movements now precise and controlled, all traces of drunkenness gone.
Not far away, Black Zetsu watched the scene. Soon, Akatsuki will tear itself apart.
Unlike the vast army of 100,000 White Zetsu that Obito would later cultivate, Black Zetsu had precious few at his disposal during this time. Each one he sacrificed pained him, but to him, the cost was worth it.
Drown in your ideals, Akatsuki.
---
Over the next few days, rumors unfavorable to Akatsuki began spreading throughout the capital of the Land of Rain.
"Did you hear? Those Akatsuki folk..."
"I heard they're stockpiling weapons..."
"My cousin said they're planning something big..."
Hanzō listened to reports from his subordinates, his face dark, lost in thought.
He had grown increasingly wary of Akatsuki's rapid growth, and now his suspicions grew ever stronger. Each report was another drop in an overflowing cup of suspicion.
"Hanzō-sama, shall we…?"
Hanzō nodded and finally decided, "Teach them a lesson. Show those children who the true master of the Land of Rain is."
That day, Black Zetsu laughed secretly, believing his scheme had succeeded.
---
Soon afterward, Shin felt the unrest growing at the base.
More and more members had started complaining to him: unable to secure jobs, unable to earn money, while prices around the base soared. The growing discord played right into their enemies' hands.
Shin asked Nagato's intelligence unit to investigate, and soon they had answers.
"During this season, there should have been plenty of merchants coming from the north, but this year there are far fewer, and those still coming have sharply raised their prices."
"All these merchants, without exception, are employing Hanzō's ninjas as guards, leaving us with fewer and fewer contracts."
Shin drummed his fingers on the table, lost in thought. Hanzō's weakness isn't his strength—it's his reputation. And reputations can be shattered.
The Land of Rain is roughly divided into northern and southern regions. The north is more developed and prosperous. The southern border is blocked by mountains, beyond which lies the desolate desert of the Land of Wind, impoverished to the extreme.
Ironically, Akatsuki had taken root in the southern part of the Land of Rain, while the north remained Hanzō's stronghold. The division was as much economic as it was geographical.
Now I have one more reason to eliminate Hanzō. Time to turn their pressure into our opportunity.
He then headed to the largest bar near the base. The establishment was dimly lit, smelling of cheap sake and cheaper tobacco.
In the world of shinobi, bars serve as taverns. Tonight was no different.
Many ninjas had gathered, grumbling about the lack of jobs and dwindling income.
"Can't even afford a drink anymore with so few contracts." a scarred ninja stared into his nearly empty cup.
"Isn't it because Captain Shin killed those nobles? They were our main source of contracts."
"Don't blame him."
Just then, Shin strode in, and a silence fell over the entire room. The only sound was the endless rain outside. Almost everyone became tense, shoulders hunching, eyes darting away. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
But he ignored them, walking up to the first ninja who had complained and asked, "How much do you make from a single contract?"
"W-what?" the man stammered, sake cup trembling in his hand.
"I asked, how much do you make from a single contract?" Shin repeated.
Still, the man hesitated, so Shin turned away and addressed the whole room.
"How much do you usually make from one contract? Ten million? Twenty million?"
Then he asked, taking a step forward, "When was the last time you went to the nearby market? Do you know how much a loaf of bread costs now?"
He held up five fingers. "Fifty thousand. Fifty thousand. They're selling one loaf of bread for fifty thousand."
A few ninja shifted uncomfortably, their own empty stomachs making his point for him.
"That amount in hard cash would take up a whole cart."
Shin continued, his eyes scanning the room, meeting each gaze in turn, "Is it really just a lack of contracts causing our suffering? Who is responsible for our current hardships?"
No one dared answer, but he didn't need one.
"If none of you will say it, I will."
"It's those people from the north."
"It's that Salamander!"
"He gained fame, power, wealth, and prestige through war. But what did he give back to the Land of Rain? What has he given to us?"
"We are still suffering."
"We are worse off than before. He betrayed Ame—that Salamander has betrayed this country!"
In that moment, a fierce spark ignited in the eyes of the Akatsuki members in the bar. Shin could see it spreading from face to face like wildfire.
The flames of rebellion have been kindled. Let's see how Zetsu likes playing with fire.
Black Zetsu never realized his proud schemes were fostering the birth of a demon—one destined to make the entire shinobi world tremble.
Outside, the rain continued to fall, but its rhythm had changed. No longer was it the dirge of oppression—but the drumbeat of revolution.
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