Nagato's gaze drifted into the distance, a thought uncontrollably surging within him.
If every Shinobi Village in this world could be like the Konoha before his eyes... how wonderful would that be?
Of course, the 'Konoha' he envisioned specifically referred to the scene under the leadership of the Fourth Hokage, Minato.
Although Nagato had never personally experienced the legendary years created by the First Hokage, Hashirama, and the Second Hokage, Tobirama.
However, the vitality and relatively open atmosphere displayed by Konoha under Minato's rule showed him another possibility for the Shinobi Village model.
Yet, Konoha had not always been this way.
Recalling the period when the Third Hokage, Hiruzen, was in power, a shadow crossed Nagato's eyes.
Especially when the figure named Danzo surfaced in his mind, an ingrained hatred almost burst from his chest.
It was during those years that Danzo and his Root's methods brought indelible trauma and tragedy to Nagato's life, becoming the eternal source of his pain and anger.
Nagato shook his head painfully, dispelling this overly idealistic vision from his mind.
He knew it was merely an unattainable luxury.
Although the absolute dominance of Konoha now maintained a superficial peace among the Five Great Nations and their Shinobi Villages, and the flames of war seemed temporarily quelled in the giants' game.
But beneath this 'peaceful' curtain, a completely different scene was concealed.
In the lands of the small nations and minor Shinobi Villages overshadowed by the great nations, conflict and war had never truly ceased for a moment.
It was just that these weak entities, in this world order built on power, dared not and were unable to touch the interests of the Five Great Nations and Five Great Shinobi Villages.
Nagato's eyes flickered, the scene before him, whether the great nations' hypocritical facade of peace or the small nations' true suffering, clearly affirmed the necessity of his path.
His plan absolutely could not be stalled because of this!
The future blueprint he envisioned and sacrificed everything for was a world that completely broke the existing structure, a world where both great and small nations, strong and weak villages, could escape the cycle of war and enjoy peace.
Even if... the foundation of his peace was ultimately forged by 'fear'.
Therefore, the Ten-Tails was essential to his plan.
And capturing those powerful Tailed Beasts scattered everywhere was the most troublesome obstacle on the path to achieving his goal.
Now, The Collector had actually offered to help him capture these Tailed Beasts.
Nagato knew he was in a passive position and had no room to refuse.
This sudden assistance was truly an unexpected boon to him, so why should he refuse?
He even had a bolder thought flash through his mind.
If The Collector could capture all the Tailed Beasts in one fell swoop... how wonderful would that be.
However, this thought merely flickered before being suppressed by reason.
Excessively greedy demands might lead to unpredictable consequences; he dared not voice this extravagant hope.
A brief silence permeated the damp air.
Finally, Nagato spoke: "In that case, I'll trouble you, sir."
"We each get what we need," Takuno replied nonchalantly, as if agreeing to a trivial matter.
Nagato slightly turned his head, giving Konan, who was standing by, a look.
Konan understood, and with a flip of her delicate hand, a vermilion ring lay quietly in her fair palm.
"This is the symbol of the Akatsuki's Vermilion Bird," Nagato's voice echoed in the empty tower, carrying a ceremonial solemnity, "From now on, it represents your identity; please accept it."
Takuno's gaze fell on the ring, which was the 'Vermilion' ring that originally belonged to Itachi.
He showed no intention of declining, simply accepting this 'token' calmly.
The small ring seemed to be drawn by an invisible force, gently floating from Konan's palm and steadily landing in Takuno's hand.
He casually slipped the ring onto his finger.
Against the backdrop of the vermilion ring face, Takuno let out an enigmatic laugh, his gaze once again turning to Nagato.
"Then, finally, I wish you..." He paused, "...to be able to escape this game of chess."
Nagato was silent for a moment, finally just nodding slightly, and said in a deep voice, "Thank you. Also..."
Takuno, who was about to leave using Sarutahiko, paused and looked at Nagato, who seemed to want to say something.
Nagato's Rinnegan swirled with extremely complex emotions; he stared intently at Takuno, as if to dig out the answer that had troubled him for so long from the other's face.
"At that time... ten years ago, in the Land of Rain, when you dealt with me and Konan... did you hold back?"
Nagato asked extremely earnestly, even with a hint of anticipation.
He urgently needed to know the truth: did Takuno already possess overwhelming strength back then but chose to go easy?
Or had he truly, in just ten years, surged from a Jonin whose strength was comparable to or even slightly inferior to theirs, to reach this terrifying realm that even his Rinnegan struggled to fathom and was completely beyond comprehension?
If it were the latter... this huge disparity made him feel a bone-chilling coldness.
Takuno's gaze lingered on Nagato's face for a moment, clearly catching the fleeting hope in those Rinnegan.
The other party probably hoped for an affirmative answer from him.
However...
Takuno shook his head, his voice calm and unruffled: "No. At that time, I did not hold back."
These brief words struck Nagato's heart like a heavy hammer.
The air instantly solidified. Nagato froze, the little color in his face seeming to recede further, his lips slightly parted, but no sound came out.
He fell into complete silence. Ten years ago, that Collector was indeed not as strong as he was.
But ten years later, he could only look up at the other's unattainable back.
A huge sense of nihilism and self-doubt engulfed him like a cold tide. These ten years... what had he been doing?
Konan, beside him, was equally incredulous. She suddenly looked up, her voice rising slightly with urgency.
"How is that possible?! If you didn't hold back, then how... how could you have become so... so powerful in such a short time?!"
Facing Konan's questioning and Nagato's silence, Takuno merely curved his lips into a faint smile.
"Heh... this world is far vaster and more mysterious than you perceive. Some existences, some powers, their heights... are enough to easily overturn the boundaries of your imagination."
Nagato took a breath, suppressing the surging resentment and frustration in his chest.
He forced himself to calm down, and when he looked at Takuno again, his eyes still held complex and unclear emotions.
"...I understand." He said in a deep voice, "Thank you for your answer."
"Mm." Takuno nodded slightly, saying no more.
His figure was then swept by an invisible force, silently disappearing from the spot.
Leaving only Nagato and Konan, enveloped in immense shock and contemplation.
No hand signs, no spatial distortions. Like a drop of water merging into the sea, his presence completely vanished in an instant, as if he had never been there.
Only the cold air and the patter of rain remained in the tower.
Nagato gazed for a long time at the empty space where Takuno had disappeared, the light in his purple Rinnegan flickering erratically.
He couldn't understand the other's departure method; it was definitely not any Space-Time Ninjutsu he knew, and there was no trace of spatial distortion at all...
However, after all he had experienced and witnessed the power Takuno displayed, this mysterious and unpredictable way of leaving even seemed 'reasonable'.
At least, neither Nagato nor Konan were surprised by it.
After Takuno's figure vanished, a heavy silence remained.
"Nagato..." Konan's voice was soft, breaking the silence, "Can we really... trust him?"
That Collector, his appearance was too mysterious, his promise too good, seemingly without any cost, and this goodness was unsettling.
Nagato slowly opened his eyes.
Those eyes, once filled with powerful strength, were now bloodshot, and exhaustion almost overflowed.
He didn't immediately look at Konan. After a moment, he turned his gaze to her, his low voice carrying an indescribable hoarseness.
"At least... he seems a bit more trustworthy than that guy who calls himself 'Uchiha Madara'."
Immediately, Konan fell silent.
She instantly understood the unspoken helplessness behind Nagato's words.
Nagato didn't say The Collector was absolutely trustworthy; he merely made a less bad choice. Between 'Madara' and 'The Collector', the latter seemed to wear a slightly more acceptable facade.
Konan was silent, a bitter feeling rising in her heart.
Yes, where was there any real right to choose?
From years ago, when the masked man calling himself Madara came knocking, binding them to his war machine with sweet words and immense power;
To now, with this mysterious Collector actively extending a helping hand, intervening with an undeniable presence.
The two of them, and the dream Yahiko left behind, had always been like duckweed in a turbulent stream, swept along by stronger forces, struggling to breathe in the cracks.
The so-called cooperation and acceptance of help were merely passive survival born of having no other choice.
Were those promises, those grand schemes, keys to a new world, or bait for a deeper trap?
They were mentally and physically exhausted, having long lost the strength to discern truth from falsehood.
Konan looked with a pang of pity at Nagato's pale and tired profile, at his slightly sunken eye sockets due to excessive chakra and mental exertion.
As the nominal leader of the Akatsuki, he bore the heaviest shackles.
He struggled to maintain the organization's course amidst the clashes of various forces, yet he was also the most vulnerable of the three parties, lacking true leverage.
Every decision was a tentative step on the edge of a precipice, allowing no room for error.
All this, merely to grasp that elusive glimmer of hope.
That dream of peace, belonging to Yahiko, belonging to the three of them.
For Konan personally, that obsession with peace might not have been the entire meaning of life, as it was for Nagato and the deceased Yahiko.
Her persistence stemmed more from these two people beside her; Yahiko was gone, but Nagato remained.
Their ideals were the meaning of her existence.
She just wanted to accompany Nagato, to guard their shared belief, even if the road ahead was fraught with thorns, even if the destination... was an abyss of eternal damnation.
Even if that ultimate fate was destined to be destruction and death, she would have no regrets and would never retreat.
Takuno's figure had already vanished into the humid mist of the Land of Rain.
He had seemingly casually revealed part of the truth to Nagato.
This was not out of goodwill, but rather a playful, detached attitude.
He wanted to see what kind of resistance this 'god,' burdened with a heavy Rinnegan and ideals, would unleash after glimpsing a corner of Obito's carefully woven lies?
And how would he shake that unfathomably deep web of conspiracy?
However, in Takuno's heart, he held almost no expectation for Nagato's success.
The reason was simple: Obito's ability, Kamui, was simply too insurmountable without corresponding countermeasures.
Its characteristic of freely traversing between reality and intangibility provided Obito with almost invulnerable capital.
While Nagato's Rinnegan possessed destructive power, precisely capturing and utterly defeating an entity that could instantly escape into another dimension was as difficult as catching an illusory phantom.
Furthermore, Nagato's own weaknesses were equally apparent.
His ravaged body had long lost basic mobility, barely sustained by specialized mechanical devices.
For an opponent like Obito, finding and destroying such a stationary and fragile target would be effortless.
Even if Nagato could temporarily hide his main body under heavy protection through wisdom or new defensive measures.
Another fatal weakness, like a sword hanging over his head, constantly threatened him: Konan, his only cherished companion.
Takuno had no doubt that Obito would use Konan as an excellent bargaining chip to threaten Nagato.
After all, if it were him, he would certainly do the same, and he had even done so before when acquiring the Gedo Statue's arm.
Adding insult to injury was Black Zetsu, lurking in the shadows.
That entity possessed the eerie ability to control Rinnegan wielders to activate the Outer Path: Samsara of Heavenly Life Technique.
Once Nagato was controlled and forced to use this technique, the consequences...
At this thought, Takuno's train of thought suddenly paused, a thought flashing through his mind like lightning.
Could his seemingly casual 'hint' inadvertently push the gears of fate onto the carefully planned track Madara had laid out before his death?
According to Madara's scheme, his desired perfect resurrection was to be achieved through Nagato's use of the Rinne Rebirth technique, rather than the secondary alternative of Edo Tensei used by Kabuto later.
After a moment of contemplation, Takuno's expression returned to its usual indifference.
Even if that were truly the case, so what?
In his plan, Madara's resurrection was an indispensable key component.
As for whether this opportunity for resurrection stemmed from his 'unintentional' action today, or the inevitable push by Obito and Black Zetsu, or Nagato's desperate choice... none of these mattered.
What mattered was the outcome; the process was merely different paths to the same destination.