Danzō finally made up his mind.
If he didn't undergo the transplantation, he would never catch up to Drake.
Only by transplanting could he still have a chance.
Grinding his teeth, Danzō walked over and lay down on the operating table.
"Very good. You've made the correct decision," Uchiha Madara said with satisfaction.
He picked up the surgical tools and sliced open Danzō's clothes.
Rip—
The fabric tore apart—
and so did Danzō's abdomen.
Blood instantly spilled out, spurting messily.
"DAMN YOU—!"
Danzō's face went pale as he cursed aloud.
He clearly saw Madara's hand twitch again—and the cut went even deeper.
"Watch your language," Madara said coldly.
"Watch your ass!" Danzō exploded, rolling off the operating table in one motion.
He clutched his wound and immediately cast Mystical Palm Technique to heal himself.
"You can't endure even such a minor wound?" Madara said in a low, authoritative tone.
"You call this a minor wound?" Danzō pointed at his stomach furiously.
"You said arm transplantation—why the hell did you slice my abdomen?!"
His gaze shifted to Madara's hands again.
They were still trembling.
"Fix your damn shaking hands first before you touch me again."
Danzō squatted back into the corner, continuing his self-treatment.
He could see it clearly now—
if Madara's medical skills were really that great, why hadn't he cured his own trembling?
Seeing Danzō act so timidly, Madara shook his head.
"No wonder you could never become Hokage. A cowardly waste."
"Heh," Danzō sneered.
"You were beaten by the First Hokage and faked your death for decades.
And you have the nerve to call me cowardly?"
When it came to fear, Danzō believed Madara was worse.
At the very least, Danzō wasn't afraid of Drake.
Madara, however… clearly was.
Exposed like this, Madara laughed instead of getting angry.
He returned to his seat and sighed inwardly.
"Danzō really is troublesome…"
"If I had known, I should've just captured another Uchiha."
In Madara's view, Danzō was too mature and calculating.
Once someone like that gained power, betrayal was inevitable.
Betrayal itself wasn't the issue—Madara had countermeasures.
The real problem was convincing Danzō to willingly accept the transplant.
After thinking for a moment, Madara stood up again.
"Danzō, you know Obito, don't you?"
"Hm? Of course."
"When Obito was on the brink of death," Madara said calmly,
"he accepted my transplantation."
Thump.
Danzō stood up instantly.
If Obito could survive a transplant while half-dead, then Danzō had no excuse to fail.
More importantly—
Obito had even awakened Wood Release.
Danzō didn't believe Madara would lie about something like this.
"Nobody wants a shaking surgeon," Danzō warned.
Then he lay back down on the table.
The surgery began again.
Madara's hands still trembled from time to time, but this time it didn't interfere too much.
In the end—
The operation succeeded.
Both of Danzō's arms were replaced with White Zetsu arms,
and a Sharingan was transplanted into his right eye.
After the surgery, Madara sat back down.
"Remember this carefully," he said seriously.
"Your arms represent Wood Release, and your right eye is the Sharingan."
"You must suppress the arms using the Sharingan to maintain balance."
"The cells in your arms will gradually integrate into your body.
In about one year, the fusion will be complete—and only then will you fully control Wood Release."
Danzō opened his left eye and asked a key question.
"Then why was Obito able to master Wood Release so quickly?"
"Because he's an Uchiha," Madara replied.
"I see…"
Danzō finally understood.
To blame anyone—it was fate for not making him an Uchiha.
"No wonder I lost to that useless Obito…"
"Why does my chest feel so tight?" Danzō asked again.
"Poor ventilation in the cave," Madara replied casually.
With that, Madara left.
Lying on the operating table, Danzō felt subtle changes within his body.
A faint numbness spread through him.
To Danzō, that meant the Wood Release cells were beginning to fuse.
"Drake…"
"When the fusion is complete, I'll stand before you and crush your head beneath my feet!"
"Madara thinks he's using me?"
"I'm using him just as much."
"Old fool… blind and arrogant."
Danzō felt exhilarated.
What he didn't know—
This transplant planted a catastrophic hidden danger inside him.
Because Drake didn't just control White Zetsu—
He also controlled White Zetsu's cells.
Madara knew the former.
But not the latter.
Konoha Village
Today was important.
The frontline forces were returning to the village one after another.
The once-quiet Konoha instantly became lively again.
Drake sat in the Hokage's office, frowning at the mountain of documents in front of him.
He clearly remembered—
Yesterday's stack wasn't this thick.
How did it double overnight?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A knock sounded.
"Come in," Drake said casually, picking up a blank file and pretending to read.
"Hokage-sama, the stone carver has arrived."
"Mm."
Drake stood up.
"You don't need to stand," the craftsman said politely.
"I'm only measuring your face, not your height."
"…Oh."
Drake sat back down.
After finishing, the craftsman accidentally glanced at the document in Drake's hand.
He froze.
There was nothing written on it.
"Hokage-sama… did you forget to open the file?"
"If I opened it, wouldn't you be peeking?" Drake replied calmly.
"…Right."
The craftsman fled immediately.
Soon, another visitor arrived—a woman.
"I'm here to take measurements for your Hokage robes. You'll need to stand."
"Fine."
After much fuss, she finally left.
When the third person entered, Drake's eyes lit up.
"Hokage-sama—"
"Just call me by name," Drake said, walking toward Minato Namikaze.
"Sensei, I've been waiting for you."
"Huh?" Minato was surprised.
"I officially appoint you as Hokage Advisor!"
Drake pointed at the document pile solemnly.
"Your duty—handle all of this."
Minato laughed helplessly.
"I came to bring you intelligence."
"Oh?"
Drake accepted the scroll.
"…The Third Raikage is dead?"
The report stated clearly—
The Third Raikage held off tens of thousands of Iwagakure ninja,
only to be ambushed by the Three-Tails,
and was killed by a Tailed Beast Bomb.
"Did you do this?" Minato asked suspiciously.
"Nope," Drake shook his head.
After thinking for a moment, Drake laughed.
"I think I understand."
"I infused the Three-Tails with several traits before.
It probably went to the Land of Hot Springs looking for the Eight-Tails."
Minato: "..."
"So it's still your fault."
Chūnin Exams
Later, Drake learned that many returning frontline soldiers were still genin.
Promotions were inevitable.
When told about the upcoming Chūnin Exams, Drake nodded.
"Makes sense."
Then—
"Will you participate?" someone asked.
"I'm Hokage. Why would I—"
"…You're still a genin," Ibiki muttered.
Drake: "???"
Moments later—
Might Guy and Might Duy kneeled before him in gratitude.
Drake helped them up and smiled.
"We were part of the 'dead-last club,' remember?"
Might Duy burst into tears.
"Dead-last can become Hokage too!"
Before leaving, Drake added casually—
"I'll also participate in the Chūnin Exams."
Father and son froze.
"…The Hokage is taking the exam?"
Sarutobi Clan Compound
Drake arrived holding a mission booklet.
He found Sarutobi Hiruzen sitting in the pavilion.
"Third," Drake said coldly.
"You've got some nerve."
"I'm retired," Hiruzen frowned.
"You're not seriously assigning me missions, are you?"
"You don't have to," Drake replied calmly.
"Then Asuma might not live past tomorrow."
"Wait!"
Hiruzen sighed deeply.
"…I'll do the mission."
"Good," Drake smiled.
"As long as you work properly, Asuma will live."
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