Chapter 205 : Hypocritical Peace, Naive Yahiko
In the Land of Rain, no one dares challenge Hanzō of the Salamander’s iron grip. It hasn’t happened before, and it won’t happen now.
Yet, the Akatsuki organization grows stronger by the day, a festering thorn in Hanzō’s side, a blight he cannot ignore. Peace? Negotiation? To Hanzō, these are hollow lies, the kind of drivel spewed by fools. There is no peace in Amegakure, the Hidden Rain Village. Only the naive dreamers of Akatsuki believe such a thing exists.
Hanzō’s true aim is to excise the Akatsuki like a cancer through this so-called "peace talk." Isn’t it obvious? One mountain cannot house two tigers. They’ve all tasted war’s bitterness—Hanzō, the Akatsuki, everyone. Pity, then, that Akatsuki clings to childish ideals. Such fantasies don’t survive in the shinobi world.
The Land of Rain’s cursed geography doesn’t help. Wedged between the great nations—Wind, Earth, and Fire—it’s a perpetual battleground. When wars erupt, Amegakure suffers most. Major powers don’t fight on their own soil; they spill blood in the Rain. Smoke, death, and rotting corpses litter the land during conflict. It’s a cesspool, a dumping ground for the world’s refuse. Perhaps that’s why the heavens weep endlessly, drenching the country in eternal rain.
Hanzō grinned, a cruel twist of his lips. "Akatsuki and their ’peace’—just a pack of delusional brats. I’ll show them what a true shinobi is. I’ll crush their innocent dreams myself."
The next day, the peace talks began.
Yahiko and Nagato led a small group of Akatsuki members to the meeting point. Konan’s absence weighed heavily—she hadn’t returned since delivering the negotiation proposal.
Nagato’s voice was tight. "Yahiko, Konan’s been gone all night. What if something’s happened?"
Yahiko’s jaw clenched. "We can’t focus on that now. We deal with Hanzō first, then find Konan. You know her strength, Nagato. She’ll be fine."
Nagato’s gut churned with unease, but with the Akatsuki already at the rendezvous, they had no choice but to press on.
Yahiko, Nagato, and their few dozen comrades arrived at the desolate meeting place. Perched atop a jagged rock wall stood Hanzō of the Salamander, his presence oppressive.