A few minutes later, Suikazan Fuguki dispatched Biwa Jūzō and Hoshigaki Kisame under the guise of a "special mission."
An hour later, the two arrived at their designated meeting point—a remote coastal canyon along the Wind Country's border.
The place was desolate. Mountains enclosed the canyon on three sides, the sea pressed in on the fourth. Almost no vegetation grew here, only stubborn moss and scraggly wild grass clinging to the cliffs. The canyon floor was all sand, vanishing beneath the tide whenever seawater surged inland.
The pair stood on the beach, waiting. Before long, two figures leapt down from the cliffs and landed before them.
Their eyes widened. Those two? Together?
Could this "mission" involve Konoha?
Both recognized one of the newcomers immediately. They had crossed paths with him during the battle at the Whirlpool Country—and by now, Lord Gen's reputation had spread too widely to ignore.
"Fuguki, what's going on here?" Biwa Jūzō asked first, Kubikiribōchō slung across his back.
Though Kisame might already be stronger than him in raw ability, Jūzō's seniority and status far outweighed his junior's. As one of the last of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, a veteran Jōnin, and an old acquaintance of Fuguki, Jūzō had earned the right to speak without restraint. Kisame, by comparison, was merely Fuguki's subordinate.
All three of them bore sharp, predatory shark-like teeth, an unsettling similarity across their otherwise fearsome, mismatched appearances.
Fuguki, Samehada strapped to his back, grinned. "I'm here to offer you two an opportunity."
"An opportunity?"
Jūzō snorted, eyes narrowing. "Heh. You greedy bastard—since when were you kind enough to share? Isn't hogging benefits more your style?"
Though Fuguki technically outranked him, Jūzō spoke without the slightest fear.
Kisame, clad in the standard Mist combat uniform with his blade at his back, remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"This opportunity is too big for me to take alone," Fuguki said. "There's no reason not to share it."
"Enough nonsense." Jūzō waved impatiently. "Spit it out."
"I want to introduce you to my backer. From today on, we serve Lord Gen together."
His grin widened, though his monstrous face only made the smile all the more menacing. Of course, Jūzō and Kisame's own smiles were no less terrifying—a case of one shark mocking another.
"Fuguki, you'd betray the Mist?" Jūzō's expression hardened, voice rising unconsciously.
"Lord Fuguki," Kisame's tone was low and dangerous, "this isn't like you. Far too many of our comrades have already died by his hand."
Fuguki sneered. "Betrayal? Hmph. As Lord Gen says, 'a wise bird chooses the right tree, and a wise man the right lord.' You know as well as I do the state of the Village. It will only get worse. Such a place isn't worth my loyalty."
"As for those Mist-nin who died under Lord Gen's hand—so what? War is kill or be killed. Haven't you slaughtered enough Konoha shinobi yourselves?"
Jūzō and Kisame exchanged glances. Hesitation flickered in both pairs of eyes.
They were discontent with the Mist's cruel, twisted policies but not yet to the point of despair. Not enough to sever their ties.
Seeing their doubt, Fuguki bared his teeth. "What's there to hesitate for? Refuse me here, and I'll kill you both today!"
Both men scoffed. One-on-one, they might not defeat Fuguki, but they could hold their ground. Two against him, they would crush him.
But if Gen himself stepped in… they wouldn't stand a chance. Even if both of them combined their strength, they would not last.
"Fuguki," Gen's voice cut through the tension at last, calm and clear, "that's not how one recruits allies. Threats earn nothing. And these two are not men afraid of death."
The words struck home. It was no empty compliment—Biwa Jūzō and Kisame were indeed fearless. Jūzō had once swung his blade into the heart of a Tailed Beast Bomb, and Kisame had summoned sharks to devour his own body rather than surrender. Both were ruthless to their enemies—and themselves.
Recognition from a powerhouse like Gen carried weight. Their guarded stares softened.
"Lord Gen," Jūzō asked seriously, "what is your purpose in recruiting us? If it's to harm the Mist Village, I cannot follow. Dissatisfied as I am with its policies, I won't raise a blade against my home."
"Me neither," Kisame said, expression grim.
They were still not broken men. Their ties to the Mist had not yet snapped.
Gen studied them, admiration flickering in his eyes—particularly for Kisame. The man reminded him of Dian Wei, the loyal general who had guarded Chancellor Cao to his final breath. A man like that, once he gave his loyalty, would follow to the very end.
So Gen answered with patience, his tone even.
"There are two reasons I seek you..."
"The first is short-term. I need the three of you to kill two people—targets inconvenient for me to deal with directly. The second is long-term. The true goal we will strive toward together: peace."
"Peace?" Kisame's eyes narrowed.
"How?" Jūzō pressed.
"My plan," Gen said quietly, "is for this world to have only one country. One shinobi village."
The words dropped like stones into still water.
Even Fuguki drew a sharp breath.
One country. One village.
It sounded insane—unrealistic. But it was also a vision so grand it stole their breath.
If there truly were only one nation, one hidden village, perhaps war could finally end. Perhaps peace could be real.
But the path was impossibly steep.
The four great villages all boasted ancient, formidable foundations. Even the smaller villages were not pushovers. Beyond them stood the nobles, the feudal lords whose power was entrenched across nations.
Even if Konoha crushed every rival village, would the Fire Daimyō and his kind willingly hand the world over to the shinobi? Would other noble houses, bound by centuries of intermarriage, simply yield?
No. Human nature was selfish. The interests of power would never permit it.
The three Mist swordsmen stood silent, lost in thought.
Finally Jūzō raised his head. "Lord Gen… what exactly is your plan?"