Chapter 409: Ambush on the Logistics Unit
Ever since Uchiha Akira ascended to the position of Hokage, the village's administrative burden had shifted. While the vast majority of trivial matters were unceremoniously dumped onto Nara Shikaku's lap, documents involving core village secrets and major strategic decisions still required the Hokage's personal seal.
Naturally, whenever Akira was away from the village, this thankless, mountain-like task fell entirely onto Tsunade.
Inside the Hokage's office, the scratching of a pen echoed in the quiet room. Tsunade rubbed her temples, glaring at the towering stack of scrolls.
Just then, the air in the center of the office twisted without warning.
A familiar, overwhelming chakra signature instantly flooded the room.
Tsunade's hand, gripping her brush, trembled slightly. A drop of ink splattered across the parchment. She snapped her head up.
A tall, imposing figure stepped out from the swirling spatial vortex, his dark robes settling around him.
"I just got back, and I already hear someone badmouthing me behind my back?" Uchiha Akira's voice was smooth, carrying a hint of dark amusement. He took in Tsunade's startled, wide-eyed expression—like a rabbit caught in a snare—and felt a distinct surge of satisfaction.
Tsunade froze. A faint flush crept up her neck and dusted her cheeks. It was impossible to tell whether it was the embarrassment of being caught cursing his name under her breath, or simply the sudden, magnetic presence of Uchiha Akira himself.
She quickly schooled her features, crossing her arms over her chest to emphasize her displeasure, and forced a stern scowl onto her face.
"You finally remembered how to find your way back?"
Akira didn't answer immediately. He closed the distance to the heavy oak desk with slow, deliberate steps. Instead of walking around it, he leaned directly over the desktop, casting a long shadow over her. He looked down at Tsunade from above, his deep, calculating eyes sweeping across her face with unapologetic aggression before finally resting on the heavy rise and fall of her chest.
"How could my trip be carefree and leisurely?" Akira murmured. He reached across the scattered documents, his long, calloused fingers gently hooking under Tsunade's chin. He tilted her face upward.
A slight, involuntary shiver ran down Tsunade's spine.
"I was out handling serious business." Akira leaned in closer, closing the gap until his warm breath brushed against her earlobe. "Paving the way for our future."
Tsunade's posture melted. The fiery tirade of complaints she had spent the last three hours preparing vanished into thin air.
'This bastard is getting way too good at this.'
"Cut... cut it out!" Tsunade barely managed to scrape together her last shred of rational thought. She slapped Akira's hand away, though there was no real force behind the strike. "Don't think you can just waltz in here and smooth things over with a few sweet words!"
She took a deep, steadying breath, snatched a red-sealed folder from the top of the priority pile, and slapped it directly against Akira's chest. Her expression hardened into professional severity.
"Talk about serious business? Fine. This is priority intelligence just sent back by the Anbu."
Akira caught the folder, his teasing demeanor vanishing in an instant. He flipped it open and scanned the contents with cold precision.
[Half a day ago, the Twelfth Outpost on the northwest border of the Land of Fire lost contact.]
[The reconnaissance team found a massive concentration of Gold Dust residue at the scene, alongside distinct, localized annihilation craters—special damage traces consistent with Dust Release.]
[Surviving witnesses claim there were two intruders. One manipulated the Gold Dust. The other was entirely wrapped in bandages, emitting a chakra signature... suspected to belong to a deceased individual.]
"Gold Dust. Bandages."
Akira tossed the intelligence report back onto the desk. The heavy folder landed with a dull thud.
"The one controlling the Gold Dust is the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa." Akira's voice was flat, devoid of surprise. "As for the man in bandages... that would be the Second Tsuchikage, Mū."
Hearing those two names spoken aloud, Tsunade's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
"The Second Tsuchikage!" Her hands slammed flat against the desk. "That monster who possesses the 'Dust Release'Kekkei Tōta? The one they call the'Non-Person'?"
She gritted her teeth. "And the Fourth Kazekage... to have both of them appear at once..." Tsunade's expression turned incredibly grim. The sheer destructive capability of those two shinobi alone could level a small nation.
"What are you panicking about?" Akira asked, his tone utterly dismissive. He straightened his posture, adjusting his cuffs. "They are nothing more than two walking corpses dragged back from the Pure Land."
His dark eyes narrowed, flashing with a dangerous, cold light. "Since they are dead, they should honestly stay in the ground. I will handle this."
Far from the village, on the rugged northwest border of the Land of Fire.
Deep within a dense, primeval forest, a Konoha convoy struggled forward. The banner of the "Third Logistics Battalion" hung heavy and wet from the lead wagon. The muddy road sucked at the wheels, and the air was thick with the damp, decaying scent of wet earth and rotting leaves—the heavy aftermath of a torrential downpour.
"Stay alert!" Battalion Commander Shimada Murai barked, his voice cutting through the humid air.
His hand rested firmly on the hilt of his sword as his eyes darted across the shadowy tree line. As a key unit responsible for transporting high-grade Explosive Tags and critical medical supplies to the front lines, they were a prime, bleeding piece of meat in the eyes of any enemy patrol.
Suddenly, the sharp shriek of displaced air pierced the silence.
"Enemy attack!"
Murai roared the warning, his muscles reacting on pure instinct. He drew a kunai in a flash of steel, bringing it up just in time to deflect a lethal strike aimed at his throat.
Sparks showered over the muddy ground.
Immediately after, the tree canopy on both sides of the road erupted. Countless shuriken rained down upon the convoy like a deadly steel downpour.
"Earth Release: Earth Flow Wall!"
Several Konoha shinobi at the flanks reacted with veteran speed. Their hands blurred through hand seals before slamming flat against the soaked earth.
Massive, thick walls of solid rock tore upward from the mud, forming a rugged barricade that absorbed the first wave of the lethal barrage. Shuriken embedded deep into the stone with heavy thuds.
Before the dust could settle, battle cries shook the forest canopy.
Dozens of shinobi wearing the distinct red combat uniforms of Iwagakure dropped from the branches. They didn't waste a single breath on words, charging directly at the Konoha defensive line with suicidal ferocity.
"It's an Iwagakure demolition unit!" Murai shouted, drawing his longsword. "Counterattack!"
He lunged forward, his blade sweeping in a brutal arc toward the leading Iwagakure shinobi. The steel bit deep into the enemy's shoulder, slicing through uniform and flesh.
However, Murai's fierce expression faltered.
There was no resistance. The blade sheared into the opponent's body as if hacking into a piece of rotten, hollow wood. No blood sprayed from the wound.
The "Iwagakure ninja" impaled on his sword didn't even flinch. Instead, the enemy's face twisted into a grotesque, unnatural smile.
"Hehehe..."
The next second, the enemy's body violently expanded. The human disguise melted away, revealing ghastly, pale white skin underneath.
"What kind of monster is this?!"
Cold dread seized Murai's heart. He yanked his arms back, desperately trying to pull his blade free and retreat.
But from the gaping wound in the creature's shoulder, countless white, fleshy tentacles surged outward like a nest of vipers, wrapping tightly around the steel blade and locking Murai in place.
"Explode." The white monster let out a low, guttural growl.
A violent, concussive blast erupted at point-blank range.
The shockwave tore through the mud. Murai was blasted backward like a ragdoll, crashing heavily against the reinforced wood of the cargo truck. He slumped to the ground, coughing up a thick mouthful of blood.
"Captain!" the surrounding Konoha shinobi screamed.
But as they rushed to engage the remaining enemies, they quickly realized they had plunged into the exact same nightmare.
These enemies... they weren't human at all.
A Konoha ninja drove a kunai straight through an attacker's heart, only for the pale creature to grab his wrist and detonate.
"Monsters... they're a bunch of monsters!"
Panic ripped through the battalion's ranks. They had braced themselves for a standard tactical ambush. They never expected to face a horde of unkillable, bizarre abominations.
These were White Zetsu clones.
Disguised as Iwagakure shinobi to sow political confusion, their true purpose was far more brutal: to create absolute chaos and bleed Konoha's vital strength dry through suicide tactics.
"Hold the line!" a veteran Konoha shinobi bellowed over the explosions. "Use Fire Release! Burn them to ash!"
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
A massive sphere of roaring flames whistled through the damp air, illuminating the dark forest in a hellish orange glow. The fire swallowed a cluster of the advancing White Zetsu whole.
Trapped within the inferno, the pale creatures finally let out high-pitched, ear-piercing shrieks, their bodies rapidly blackening and crumbling into charred husks.
Seeing the monsters finally fall, the surviving Konoha shinobi let out a ragged breath, thinking they had finally found the countermeasure.
But just as relief began to settle over the bloody mud, the atmosphere shifted.
A sudden, unnatural cold wind swept through the trees without a single warning. The flames of the burning Zetsu flickered and died.
Immediately after, a thick, suffocating white mist rolled out from the deep woods, swallowing the road like a tidal wave.
In the blink of an eye, visibility plummeted to less than five meters.
The chaotic battlefield, which had been deafening with the sounds of explosions and screams just a moment ago, instantly plunged into a deathly, absolute silence.
Even the agonizing shrieks of the burning White Zetsu vanished entirely.
"What's going on?" Murai struggled to his feet. He clutched his bleeding chest, his terrified eyes darting wildly through the impenetrable white veil.
This fog... it wasn't natural.
"Silent Killing Technique..."
The bone-chilling realization struck him like a physical blow.
"Watch out!" Murai screamed, his voice cracking. "This is the Hidden Mist's—"
Before the warning could fully leave his throat, a sickening slice echoed through the mist.
A severed head flew high into the air.
Hot blood sprayed across the pristine white fog, a glaring, horrifying splash of crimson.
The elite chunin who had just commanded the Fire Release counterattack collapsed to the mud. He had been decapitated in a fraction of a second, without a single warning.
No one had even seen the blade. No one had seen the killer.
"Come out!"
The remaining Konoha shinobi scrambled into a tight circle, standing back-to-back. They gripped their kunai with white knuckles, their hands trembling violently in the suffocating silence.
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