Chimera Technique
"Here's the situation," Nara Shikaku said gravely. "Rumors have been spreading in the other four great villages. Shinobi with kekkei genkai are vanishing."
Tōma frowned slightly.
"That alone doesn't sound strange. Having a bloodline doesn't make someone immortal."
"That's the problem," Shikaku replied. "According to our records, many of the shinobi mentioned didn't disappear recently. They vanished long ago."
He gave an example.
"Take Pakura of the Sand. She died during the era of the Fourth Kazekage, sacrificed during negotiations with Kirigakure. Yet recently, her name has resurfaced in Sunagakure, with the timeline deliberately blurred."
"Pakura?" Tōma paused, then remembered.
Right. The Sand kunoichi famous for her Scorch Release… and for having an absurdly striking back.
"So someone's deliberately spreading misinformation," Tōma said.
"Yes," Shikaku nodded. "But their objective wasn't clear. Until now."
Tōma tapped his temple, uneasy. He was sure this rang a bell, but the memory was just out of reach.
"Have Intelligence focus on gathering data," he decided. "As long as Konoha isn't directly involved, we don't move yet."
"Agreed," Shikaku said.
They returned to their paperwork.
Some time later, Tōma suddenly looked up.
The sky outside had darkened unnaturally. Clouds churned far too fast, spiraling like a massive vortex.
Tōma and Shikaku appeared on the roof of the Hokage Tower in an instant.
There, towering above the village, stood a colossal humanoid figure.
White-haired. Crimson eyes. Wrapped in an oversized, high-collared coat bound with three thick straps. Only the upper half of his face was visible, delicate to the point of seeming almost youthful.
Then the figure spoke, his voice amplified through chakra, echoing across Konoha.
"I am a shinobi of Konohagakure. My name is Hiruko."
Shikaku's eyes widened.
"That's impossible. Hiruko shouldn't look like this. And he was never a child."
"Relax," Tōma said calmly. "Whatever this is, I've got it covered."
The name had already clicked for him.
So it was Hiruko.
The man who invented the Chimera Technique.
A shortcut. The fastest path a civilian-born shinobi could take toward power.
Hiruko continued.
"Using the Chimera Technique, I have absorbed the kekkei genkai of four great villages. Once I obtain a fifth, I will be unrivaled."
"I will become the perfect, immortal shinobi. And with this power, I will ignite the Fourth Shinobi World War and rule all!"
With that declaration, the giant figure vanished. The sky cleared as if nothing had happened.
"…Well," Tōma said, stretching, "that answers the mystery."
Shikaku let out a dry laugh.
"So the rumors were bait. He wanted to provoke the villages."
"Exactly," Tōma replied. "Turn Konoha into a common enemy."
Shikaku looked troubled.
"Still, if he really absorbed multiple kekkei genkai—"
"He's delusional," Tōma interrupted, a trace of mockery in his voice. "Five bloodlines don't make you invincible."
Even a true kekkei tōta wouldn't guarantee that, let alone a stitched-together imitation.
To Tōma, bloodlines had long lost their appeal. If he wanted them, he could create them himself. With Shikkotsu Sage Mode and mastery over Yang Release, the risks were minimal now.
But why bother?
The time investment alone wasn't worth it. Developing new bloodlines, refining techniques to match them… all for power that wouldn't surpass Sage Art: Lightning Release – Kirin, let alone his unstable Yin–Yang detonation.
Hiruko's dream was just that. A fantasy.
There was also a reason he stopped at five. The Chimera Technique had limits. Four was already pushing it. Five was likely the absolute edge.
If it were truly that powerful, Orochimaru would never have ignored it.
Which meant the technique had flaws. Severe ones. Incompatibility. Degradation. Or simply an inability to draw out the full strength of the stolen bloodlines.
Unless Hiruko somehow tried fusing something absurd—like a Rinnegan or Ōtsutsuki lineage.
But that was pure nonsense.
Shikaku nodded slowly. He trusted Tōma's judgment on matters of strength.
Still, his concern lay elsewhere.
"The real issue," he said, "is that Hiruko declared war in Konoha's name. The daimyōs will respond. There will be councils. Including the Fire Daimyō."
Tōma yawned.
"That's fine."
Shikaku blinked.
"Our actual opponents are the villages," Tōma continued calmly. "Suna won't move. Iwa's licking its wounds after Orochimaru. Ōnoki will complain, sure, but that's all."
"Kiri's still unstable from the Blood Mist era."
"And Kumo," Tōma said with a faint smile, "has bigger problems. They've already lost the Two-Tails. Akatsuki is breathing down their necks, and they're still guarding the Eight-Tails. They won't touch Konoha right now."
Shikaku listened, then hesitated.
Tōma spoke of villages… not nations.
And he spoke as if the daimyōs barely mattered.
That realization unsettled him. But he said nothing.
The Nara, Akimichi, and Yamanaka clans had always stood with the Hokage. That wouldn't change now.
"Let's go," Tōma said at last. "Tell our shinobi to keep a low profile for a while. Stay sharp."
"Yes," Shikaku replied.