Deep underground, where light withered and sound died early, Danzō Shimura moved with uncharacteristic haste.
"Ryōma," he ordered without slowing, his cane striking the stone floor in sharp, clipped echoes. "Begin Root's evacuation preparations. No urgency—but absolute secrecy. ANBU must not be alerted."
Aburame Ryōma hesitated for the briefest instant, doubt flickering behind his impassive expression, then bowed. "Understood, Lord Danzō."
He withdrew into the shadows.
Only when the corridor fell silent again did Danzō finally stop. His grip tightened around the cane—and then he swung it hard against the ground. The impact cracked stone. His face twisted, no longer bothering to conceal the fury underneath.
He understood Hiruzen Sarutobi better than anyone else in Konoha.
Better than Koharu. Better than Homura.
That man always looked indecisive. Always hesitated. But once he chose a path, he would walk it without mercy—even if it meant burning himself to ash at the end.
The combat uniform beneath the Hokage's robes today had not been a coincidence.
It had been a warning.
A declaration.
Hiruzen had already decided how this would end.
First, a public reckoning. Once the bounty and investigation were announced, Konoha's outrage would ignite. Root and its affiliates would be purged under the banner of "disciplinary justice." Allies would be dragged down together—cleanly, efficiently.
Then Hiruzen would step down.
Voluntarily.
He would claim failure of oversight, shoulder all responsibility, and walk alone to the Sacrificial Shop to die. A noble end. A spotless legacy. A perfectly cleansed Konoha, handed to his chosen successor.
Danzō knew it without doubt.
That was Hiruzen's favorite trick—retreating in order to advance, sacrificing himself so the future could stand taller.
And Danzō?
Danzō would be left chained in some ANBU dungeon, rotting until death.
No.
If this was how it would end, then he would choose the battlefield himself.
He straightened, breathing slowly, forcing clarity back into his thoughts. If the situation became irreversible, Root would leave the village first. Survival was still an option—if he moved fast enough.
Entering a sealed chamber, Danzō pulled a concealed map from the bookshelf.
The parchment unfolded to reveal the true skeleton of Root.
Hidden bases across multiple nations. Stockpiled weapons. Intercepted war supplies. Human experiment facilities that never existed on any official ledger. Irregular personnel whose names were never recorded.
His eyes moved across the markings—then stopped.
The Land of Rain.
That base had been established during the Second Great Ninja War, when he commanded the Rain front. It held immense reserves: weapons, funds, corpse materials, and Root operatives beyond standard deployment numbers.
And more importantly—
Hanzō.
The so-called demigod of the Rain.
Their relationship was long past diplomacy. It was shared blood, shared secrets. Every atrocity Hidden Rain had committed carried Danzō's fingerprints somewhere beneath the surface.
If Hanzō ever dared to betray him, Danzō would gladly drag that demigod into the light and let the world see how much blood stained his hands.
As for Konoha's pursuit?
It would never cross the Rain border.
Hostile terrain. Political friction. Hanzō's reputation alone was deterrent enough. And its proximity to the Land of Fire made it ideal—close enough to observe Konoha, far enough to remain untouched.
Decision made.
Danzō exhaled slowly, then frowned as his gaze drifted toward the adjacent laboratory.
So much equipment.
Precision instruments. Long-term experiments. Wood Release research in critical stages.
Large storage scrolls were tightly controlled by the village in preparation for war. Root's quota barely covered documents and classified scrolls. There was no way to transport everything.
His bandaged right eye throbbed faintly.
Wood Release could not be abandoned.
It was his leverage. His future.
The Sacrificial Shop's Wood Release Spirit Bone was already out of reach. That path was closed. Which meant Root's experiments had to continue—no matter the cost.
And then there was the Sharingan.
Mangekyō-level power was no longer theory. It existed. And Danzō had no intention of letting it slip away. But without official authority, hunting Uchiha would become exponentially harder. Root's personnel would only shrink. Funds would dry up within months.
Only now did the truth strike him.
All these years—every scheme, every ambition—had been rooted in Konoha itself.
Without the village, everything collapsed.
That realization stung more sharply than any blade.
But if he was going to leave…
Then Konoha would pay first.
A new plan formed, cold and ruthless.
Before his authority as Hokage Advisor was stripped, he would drain the ninja clans dry—personnel, funds, everything.
If he was departing, they would give him a proper farewell.
"You want the ninja clans to supply Root with more personnel and funding?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi stared at Danzō across the desk, disbelief etched into his face. "At a time like this?"
Danzō's expression was calm. Almost serene. "You intend to erase Root. To erase us Advisors. That much is obvious."
He spoke evenly, as if stating a mutual understanding. "Homura has seen it too. That's why he cooperates with you. Only Koharu still refuses to accept it."
Hiruzen's gaze wavered. "We all took the wrong path," he admitted quietly. "We deserve punishment. But the village should not suffer for it."
"Of course," Danzō replied gently. "That's why we must die properly."
He straightened, voice roughening just enough. "To die for Konoha—that is the only worthy end."
Hiruzen hesitated.
Danzō pressed on.
"There is still a terrifying enemy hidden in this world," he said. "We must prepare something for the next generation."
He outlined it cleanly.
Absorb new personnel into Root—weakening the clans, strengthening the next Hokage's control.
Extract funds—limiting clan competition when the Sacrificial Shop opens, while building strategic reserves.
Play the villains one last time—so the next Hokage could be loved.
"Let this," Danzō concluded softly, shoulders slumping with age, "be the final thing we do for Konoha."
The words fit too perfectly.
They wrapped sacrifice around necessity, loyalty around exploitation, and presented it as duty.
Hiruzen's resistance crumbled.
At last, he reached out and placed a hand on Danzō's shoulder.
"You decide the list," he said hoarsely. "But do not disappoint me again."
Danzō bowed his head.
Inside, he smiled.
[update on my parttime job it was shit and am not doing it even if i used all my fucking knowledge and make a 'ideal' situation it would still fall 85$ a month i mean its not bad but they advertise at least 100$ and as i said its in a ideal situation 80$ in reality its less than 45$ so i kind of did my shift and left told them to there face that might not come tomorrow]
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