The metal doors slowly closed.
Tsunade was left standing alone, her expression complicated.
She lowered her gaze.
In her left hand—
A sealed scroll.
In her right—
A book that Uchiha Anlan had forcibly shoved into her hands.
"The Cold and Noble Big-Breasted Female Ninja — Her Fallen Life After Defeat."
This was clearly not any proper research material.
It was…
"Tsunade-senpai, if you can't get past the psychological hurdle, you can read this to relax… or…"
Anlan's teasing whisper echoed again in her ears.
"…if you really can't handle it yourself, you can come find me. I'm always willing to help Tsunade-auntie."
"You bastard!"
"So this is your grand ambition—to become the strongest?! What a noble excuse!"
"You're nothing but a shameless pervert thinking with your lower half!"
Her face flushed bright red.
She hurled the book to the ground.
Smack!
The pages flipped open chaotically, exposing even more indecent illustrations and text.
Tsunade glanced at it—
Then glanced again.
Her slender heel, wrapped in thin black stockings, slammed down onto the open pages.
"Touch myself? Come find you?!"
She ground her heel harder, teeth clenched.
"Even if I… even if I…"
"I would never come to you!"
"No—!"
She suddenly shook her head violently, golden hair whipping through the air.
"That brat dragged my thoughts into the gutter!"
"I would never do something like that! Not even think about it!"
Her voice echoed through the silent laboratory.
Then—
Silence returned.
The outburst faded.
Leaving only exhaustion.
And a hollow chill.
Tsunade lowered her head.
Strands of golden hair fell loosely across her face.
Her gaze drifted downward.
On the wrinkled pages beneath her foot—
A colored illustration stared back at her.
A female ninja.
Controlled.
Manipulated.
Forced into humiliating submission.
That twisted posture.
That helpless expression.
That complete loss of control—
It looked…
Disturbingly familiar.
Just like—
That sealed room.
When Anlan had toyed with her as he pleased.
No.
Not similar.
Almost identical.
"That brat…"
"Is he planning to break me according to this script?"
"He's underestimating me."
Tsunade snorted coldly.
She bent down and picked up the book again.
If this was his plan—
She would see it through.
But after only a short while—
She snapped it shut.
Her breathing turned uneven.
Her heart pounded wildly.
Even her toes curled unconsciously.
The sheer intensity of the content—
Left the Princess of Konoha momentarily blank.
—
After leaving Tsunade, Anlan ascended the spiral staircase at a steady pace.
There was only one Peach of Grace.
And he had already decided—
Tsunade would not touch it.
Not yet.
Trust had not reached that level.
For now, the Corpse Blood was enough to occupy her.
As for the book—
That had merely been a casual indulgence.
He never expected her to actually read it.
As for her daily management—
Uzumaki Minako would handle everything.
—
Above ground—
Construction had begun across the scorched western district.
Workers from the Ginza Merchant Group moved under strict coordination.
Debris was cleared.
Foundations measured.
Temporary structures erected.
Without ninja assistance, progress returned to the slow, ordinary pace of the world.
Nearby—
A wide clearing had been converted into a holding zone.
Rows of container-like structures stood in neat lines.
Their metal doors were tightly sealed.
Small barred windows sat high along the walls.
Behind them—
Pairs of eyes appeared from time to time.
Numb.
Wary.
Hopeless.
This was the temporary prison for over five hundred Mist captives.
Uchiha Fugaku and the Akabé Army were stationed here.
Half trained.
Half guarded.
When Anlan emerged—
He first glanced toward the distant construction.
Then toward the soldiers practicing Wind Sword techniques.
A faint smile appeared.
He walked toward Fugaku.
"General."
Fugaku nodded.
"Hard work."
Anlan's gaze shifted toward the containers.
"Bring Suikazan Fuguki."
"And Hoshigaki Kisame."
"Yes."
The order was passed immediately.
Soon—
A reinforced container opened.
Suikazan Fuguki was brought out first.
His wounds were treated.
But his spirit—
Was broken.
Heavy chains sealed his chakra.
They dragged across the ground with a metallic scrape.
His head hung low.
His eyes were lifeless.
None of the ferocity of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen remained.
Then—
Hoshigaki Kisame.
His condition was better.
His hands bound.
His expression calm.
But deep within his eyes—
A silent wish for death.
Without restraints—
He would have already ended his life.
The two stood before Anlan.
Sunlight fell across them.
Fuguki trembled.
Kisame stood straight.
"Good."
"Now we can talk."
The conversation should have happened yesterday.
But Fuguki had collapsed.
Anlan's gaze fell on them.
The three-tomoe Sharingan appeared.
Fuguki's pupils locked instantly.
The spinning tomoe swallowed his vision.
A sense of falling—
Like standing at the edge of an endless abyss.
Memories surged.
The unstoppable Uchiha advance.
The descending lightning dragon.
And—
A desperate thought.
I want to live.
I'll do anything.
The thought horrified him.
But resistance—
Was meaningless.
His breathing grew ragged.
Cold sweat formed.
His body shrank further inward.
Kisame reacted differently.
The moment the Sharingan activated—
His pupils contracted sharply.
Danger.
His instincts screamed.
But without chakra—
There was no resistance.
He gritted his teeth.
Fighting with sheer will.
The stillness in his eyes shattered into turbulence.
Anlan's power seeped into his mind like freezing water.
In a distorted vision—
Kisame saw Fuguki kneeling.
Begging.
Betraying.
No.
Absolutely not.
I'll pretend to submit.
Then expose him.
Kill the traitor myself.
As the thought took root—
The madness in his expression slowly faded.
Anlan observed quietly.
To him—
They were merely mortals.
Just like the Fourth Mizukage once controlled by Uchiha Obito—
Under the Sharingan—
There was no real choice.
Submission.
Or collapse.
After the illusion settled—
Anlan showed no sign of strain.
He waved his hand.
"Take them away."
The two Mist shadow-class captives were escorted back.
Fugaku remained.
"The prisoners are to be treated normally," Anlan said.
"No unnecessary abuse."
"But discipline must remain strict."
"After all…"
"They may fight alongside us someday."
Fugaku was slightly surprised.
He understood the limits of the three-tomoe Sharingan.
It could not completely overwrite a strong will.
So—
Was this the Mangekyō?
Or a new ocular technique?
Either way—
It was a blessing.
"Understood, General."
After he left—
Silence returned.
Anlan began considering their fate.
Option One — Assimilation.
Absorb Fuguki, Kisame, and the five hundred elite Mist ninja.
Gradually reshape their loyalty through Kyōka Suigetsu.
If successful—
Four shadow-class combatants.
Nearly two thousand troops.
A powerful force.
Option Two — Infiltration.
Release them at the right moment.
Send them back as hidden agents.
But—
Ninja examine memories.
One flaw—
Everything collapses.
A bird in hand is worth more.
No need to gamble.
His thoughts settled.
…Perhaps it was time to visit the ruins of Uzumaki Country.
—
Far out at sea—
The sky hung low.
Iron-gray clouds pressed against the horizon.
The ocean churned in dark blue waves.
A fleet advanced.
Silent.
Massive.
At the front—
Warships bearing the Mist symbol.
Behind—
Transport ships and fast boats spread like a school of predators.
Over four thousand ninja.
The remaining Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
And—
A Jinchūriki.
On the command ship—
The atmosphere was suffocating.
At the bow stood several Swordsmen.
Their blades resting at their sides.
Their gazes fixed forward.
At the center—
A boy.
Brown hair.
One eye hidden.
Blue haori.
Blowing soap bubbles.
Harmless.
Yet—
No one approached him.
Even Mist ninja instinctively avoided his presence.
Fear.
Discomfort.
Instinct.
He was—
Utakata.
The Six-Tails Jinchūriki.
A faint, sticky chakra aura clung to him.
Blending with the sea air—
Creating an oppressive weight.
He continued blowing bubbles silently.
Detached.
Yet—
The fleet's most dangerous weapon.
A living disaster.
The ocean split beneath the fleet like a blade.
Four thousand killing intents surged toward the distant shore.
—
The next morning.
Before the fog lifted—
A messenger hawk arrived at the Mist forward camp.
A guard removed the scroll and rushed inside.
"It's here."
Biwa Jūzō burned the message after reading.
His eyes turned toward the sea.
"Three days."
"The Hidden Mist returns."
Meanwhile—
Kilometers away—
An Akabé reconnaissance team observed.
A Hyūga activated his Byakugan.
"Something's wrong!"
"Messenger hawk—from the sea!"
"Report immediately!"
"Reinforcements confirmed!"
Orders were issued instantly.
Uchiha Inabi.
Hyūga Hizashi.
A small squad.
They boarded a boat—
And sailed out.
On the open sea—
The Byakugan would reach its true potential.
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