Chapter 44 — The Sand Ninja Are Out of Money
Konoha Village. Orochimaru's residence.
"Poof!"
A puff of white smoke flashed, and Kinoshita Hikaru appeared in the center of the courtyard. As he turned around, he saw Orochimaru calmly sipping tea, now staring at him with a stunned expression.
"Sensei, I'm back."
Hikaru looked around the courtyard and found it quite elegant. There was a fish pond in front, with fish swimming leisurely. Beside the pond stood a cherry blossom tree.
A pebble path ran through the center, with lush green grass on both sides.
He praised, "Sensei has refined taste."
Orochimaru ignored the compliment and asked the question on his mind.
"You went to Ryūchi Cave? How did you return so quickly… and you even learned Reverse Summoning?"
Was this some kind of one-day trip to Ryūchi Cave?
He knew very well that anyone who entered Ryūchi Cave would have to meet the White Snake Sage. It would give the contractor a trial, and only those who passed would be taught Reverse Summoning.
Those who failed… would be eaten by the snake princesses.
After a moment—
Hikaru recounted everything he had seen and experienced. Orochimaru found it hard to believe.
"You actually formed a contract with Manda…" he muttered.
As the current inheritor of Ryūchi Cave, he naturally knew of Manda. It was a giant snake on par with—no, maybe even stronger than—Snake Sage himself.
Such a powerful summoning beast had actually formed a contract with his disciple.
Orochimaru felt genuinely pleased.
A giant summoning beast was incredibly valuable on the battlefield—especially now, with a storm about to rise.
He looked at Hikaru and said, "Come with me."
Hikaru quickly followed Orochimaru into the house. Before he could observe his surroundings, Orochimaru formed hand seals. A barrier slowly appeared, spreading outward to reveal a hidden passage.
"Follow."
Hikaru felt a surge of excitement. He guessed Orochimaru was about to teach him something, and he hurried after him, descending into the underground chamber.
It was a space of about a hundred square meters. In one corner were two bookshelves. At the center stood an operating table, surrounded by various unfamiliar instruments.
Hikaru was startled.
Had Orochimaru already begun conducting experiments and embracing science at this stage?
A sense of unease crept over him. His body tensed instinctively. The previously clean and orderly chamber now felt dark and ominous.
"Sensei… what is this for?"
He tried to keep his voice steady, but a slight tremor remained. It wasn't fear—it was simply the instinctive reaction of someone weaker, unable to resist.
"Don't be afraid. This is where I usually train my ninjutsu. My goal is to master all techniques."
Orochimaru valued his first disciple greatly and even shared his ambition. He paid little attention to Hikaru's reaction—many ninja felt uneasy when seeing such instruments.
"Draw some blood. I want to conduct a full analysis of your body."
Hikaru nodded and, under Orochimaru's guidance, filled a vial with his blood.
Maybe becoming a disciple so hastily… wasn't the best idea.
For the first time, Hikaru felt a trace of regret.
...…
The two soon left the chamber. In the end, Hikaru had only had a vial of blood drawn.
Why do I feel like a lab specimen? he thought.
"Some people are getting restless. I need to deal with them, so I'll be leaving Konoha for a few days," Orochimaru said. "You should go back and rest. Once the blood analysis is complete, I'll design a training plan for you. Follow it when the time comes."
"Restless people…?"
The border?
It seemed the Second Great Ninja War was about to begin. Elite ninja would be dispatched to the frontlines—some to gather intelligence, others to engage in skirmishes.
Hikaru didn't say much. After bowing, he took his leave.
A ninja war didn't erupt overnight. It always began with probing—testing other nations' strength and deployment before deciding whether to launch a full-scale invasion.
Such intelligence was top secret. It had to be stolen by highly skilled spies and delivered back by powerful ninja.
Most ninja training and covert operations were handled by Root. It was worth noting that Orochimaru himself was also a member of Root—though relatively free, not bound by cursed seals.
As the Third Hokage's disciple, his presence in Root was more like a form of oversight—to prevent Danzō Shimura from going too far.
It had nothing to do with trust. It was simply the balance of power.
...
Kinoshita residence.
Compared to Orochimaru's elegant home, the Kinoshita household seemed far more modest—a wooden house, with a wide open yard and a swing hanging beneath an old locust tree.
Even so, in Konoha, this still counted as a comfortable middle-class home—better than 95% of civilians.
Hikaru sat cross-legged in the courtyard, cultivating chakra.
After a great battle, his chakra had improved significantly. Though ninja had no visible "stats," chakra was the fusion of physical and spiritual energy. Every life-and-death battle tempered the mind.
Thus, surviving a battle always brought growth.
War was brutal—but those who survived became much stronger.
He formed hand seals and created four shadow clones. Each began training separately:
Medical ninjutsu.
Rasengan.
Wind-nature transformation.
Fine chakra control.
Meanwhile, Hikaru himself stood in the courtyard, continuing to develop his Devil Fruit abilities.
He also considered new combat strategies. A ninja must always keep trump cards hidden. If he hadn't already been experimenting with Second Gear, he wouldn't have been able to use it instantly—even after upgrading his abilities.
Even so, its side effects remained severe. That single battle had drained him completely.
Yes, the enemy had been strong—but Hikaru still found it unacceptable.
He felt a constant sense of urgency.
In the ninja world, without strength, you had no voice.
Having your blood drawn while forcing a smile—that kind of feeling filled him with frustration.
"What I lack most right now… is a decisive, one-hit kill technique," he muttered.
He understood his own shortcomings. Though he appeared strong, he was actually quite balanced—too balanced.
He lacked explosive finishing power.
His long-range attacks were also insufficient.
"Second Gear!"
He accelerated his blood circulation, activating Second Gear. His body turned red as steam rose from his skin.
His right fist clenched at his waist before suddenly striking forward—midway transforming into an open palm.
"Gum-Gum Jet Air Cannon!"
The force of his palm compressed the air into a projectile, blasting forward instantly for two meters with a sharp explosion.
Hikaru smiled in satisfaction. Though the destructive power was lacking, it could be improved with practice.
He spent the entire day training. By the time the ninja academy dismissed for the day, he stood up and headed toward the school.
...
Elsewhere—
The Land of Wind.
As the country with the largest territory, it should have been the strongest.
Instead, it was the poorest.
Eighty percent of its land was desert, with very few oases.
Even Sunagakure, built upon one such oasis, was plagued year-round by sandstorms.
People here wore veils when going outside to shield themselves from the sand.
Barren and desolate—this defined the land.
It also shaped its people. The Sand ninja were fierce, fearless, and relentless in battle. Since the village's founding, they had longed to escape this wasteland and expand into the Land of Fire.
After twenty years of peace, Sunagakure's ninja forces had reached saturation.
They had only two options:
Downsize—abandon some ninja to fend for themselves.
Or start a war—to seize land, resources, and funding from the daimyō.
The first option was impossible.
After years of grueling training, suddenly dismissing ninja would cause chaos.
Ninja did not produce—they only fought. Stripped of livelihood, these superhuman individuals would destabilize the entire nation.
The consequences would be unimaginable.
At this moment—
Inside the Kazekage's office.
The Third Kazekage, in his prime and known as the strongest in history, possessed the unique kekkei genkai: Magnet Release—Iron Sand.
He could freely control iron-based substances and manipulate the iron within sand itself.
Looking at the village elders, he spoke:
"The village is out of money. Everyone—tell me, what should we do?"
***
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