This abnormal phenomenon finally drew intense suspicion and scrutiny from the other high-ranking factions within Kusagakure.
During one incident, when a trusted subordinate of the leader was gravely wounded and rushed to Karina's residence for "treatment," rival factions—who had long been lying in wait nearby—launched a sudden raid.
They burst through the door and witnessed a shocking sight—
The dying shinobi was clamped down on Karina's arm, biting fiercely. As he swallowed, the wounds across his body visibly closed, and his fading chakra surged back with astonishing speed.
"!!!"
Every intruder froze in shock.
Then, without exception, their eyes ignited with blazing greed.
"So that's how it is… so that's the secret!!"
"No wonder his men are so hard to kill!"
"This woman… she's a treasure beyond measure!!"
Although the village leader rushed over with a large group of loyal subordinates upon hearing the commotion—shouting sternly and attempting to drive the others away—it was already too late.
Once a secret is exposed, it cannot be taken back.
Facing the leader's pressure, one high-ranking official stepped forward boldly, pointing at Karina.
"Leader! A woman like this is an asset of the entire village! Not something you can monopolize for yourself!"
The leader's face darkened ominously.
"Silence. Do you have a death wish?"
But the promise of enormous benefit had already clouded their judgment.
Seeing more and more shinobi and villagers gathering—drawn by the noise—the rival officials realized this was the perfect opportunity to challenge the leader's authority and seize shared "access" to her ability.
"Everyone, think about it!" another official called out loudly, his tone charged with incitement. "The leader has been hoarding this resource for himself! He's only using her to heal his own men! Is that fair to the rest of us? Is that fair to the village?!"
The words fell like sparks into oil.
Many ordinary shinobi were instantly stirred.
They risked their lives on missions daily. Injuries were commonplace. Medical resources were limited.
If… if such a shortcut to recovery truly existed…
Seeing the crowd's mood shift, the officials pressed on.
"She belongs to the entire village! From now on, any of you who are injured can come to her! One bite—and you're healed! Think of it! No more fear on missions! How many medical expenses saved? How many lives preserved?! Don't you want that?!"
"We do!!"
"He's right!!"
"She belongs to the village!!"
"It should be shared!!"
Greed and survival instinct overwhelmed fear of the leader.
The crowd grew louder, their eyes locking onto Karina—whose face had gone deathly pale, her body trembling.
They no longer saw a living woman.
They saw a rare artifact.
A public utility.
The leader surveyed the spiraling chaos and the triumphant expressions of his political rivals. His face darkened like a storm cloud.
He understood.
The situation had slipped entirely beyond his control.
Karina and her daughter had gone from his private "secret weapon" to a public commodity—soon to be torn apart by the entire village.
Faced with swelling public pressure and watchful political enemies, even he could not suppress the tide.
After weighing his options, he was forced into compromise.
"…Fine!" he ground out through clenched teeth. "If this is the will of the village, then from today onward, Karina will be assigned to the village hospital—responsible for… special injury treatment."
"Wise decision, Leader!"
"Excellent!"
Cheers erupted.
Most shinobi gazed at Karina not as a human being—but as a miraculous tool that would guarantee their survival and raise mission success rates.
Only Karina understood what this truly meant.
At the announcement, the color drained completely from her face. Her body shook uncontrollably.
She whispered hoarsely, despair trembling in her voice:
"No… this won't work… I'll die… I really will…"
When the crowd eventually dispersed, Karina summoned the last of her courage and sought out the leader.
She remembered his promise.
"Leader… you promised to protect my daughter and me…" Her voice quivered with tears and fragile hope.
The leader, irritated and impatient, replied coldly, "You're assigned to the hospital now. That still counts as being under my protection. No one will openly harm you."
"That's not what I mean…" Karina shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "It's not harm—it's overuse. If it's just once in a while, I can recover slowly. But if it's the entire village… if I'm used frequently… my body won't endure it. My vitality will be drained. I really will die."
The leader frowned.
"There's such a limitation? Then… how long can you last?"
Karina shook her head weakly.
"I don't know… It depends on how often… how severely… but not long. Certainly not long…"
The leader's expression darkened completely.
He had intended to use her as a political asset.
But if that asset was consumable—and consumed quickly—its value had to be reassessed.
He looked at the pleading woman before him. His eyes flickered.
Perhaps he feared the consequences of her early death.
Perhaps he still wished to keep her as a final trump card.
At last, he spoke in a low, heavy tone:
"Fine. I understand. I will restrict access. Only severe cases will come to you. That should suffice."
The promise sounded hollow even as it left his lips.
Karina knew that in the face of profit and survival, "restriction" meant nothing.
But what could she say?
She had no power to resist.
"…Thank you, Leader."
She bowed, swallowing her despair and terror, and left quietly.
Back in the house that increasingly resembled a cage, she looked at her daughter—now slightly older—playing quietly by herself.
Karina's heart felt unbearably heavy.
She walked over and embraced Karin tightly, burying her face against the small child's shoulder. Her own shoulders trembled, though she dared not cry aloud.
Her only wish was to see her daughter grow up.
Her only hope was to exchange her own life for as much time as possible—for her child to grow in relative peace.
Even if that "peace" was fragile.
Even if it was suffocating.
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