Chapter 132: Konoha Doesn’t Have That Kind of Nerve?
Dawn.
As the ninja guarding Iwagakure’s entrance slowly woke from Genjutsu, a howl filled with grief echoed through the entire village.
Bodies.
Blood-soaked corpses.
All of them familiar faces—comrades they knew.
The wounds carved across their bodies, the sight of heads separated from limbs, cut into their hearts like knives. Just yesterday, these same comrades had confidently handed over their exit passes and set out on their mission. Now they lay dead before their eyes.
The anguished cries drew more Iwagakure ninja to the scene. In moments, a heavy gloom settled over the entire village.
“Tell me,” Shisui said with a sigh as he observed from afar, “why don’t they show this kind of sorrow when they’re the ones attacking Konoha?”
Hatred grew from slaughter, cycling endlessly without pause.
“Ken-san told us not to think too much about it.”
Itachi shook his head. He had seen firsthand how ruthless those people were when they invaded Konoha. No matter how tragic this scene was, it still couldn’t compare to the images burned into his memory.
All they needed to do was follow Ken-san and witness the changes to come.
Change required sacrifices. That was inevitable.
Itachi understood far too well now. Just as Ken-san had said, once you looked at the world as a whole, you realized how insignificant deaths like these really were.
“Do you always have to be the one knocking sense into me? It’s not like I don’t already know that.”
“And besides, that’s not exactly what Hakken said. He said the Uchiha clan has mental issues and can’t handle stimulation, so we shouldn’t overthink things.”
“I don’t know what ‘mental issues’ means, but it definitely isn’t a compliment. You’re the only one who actually took it seriously.”
Shisui rolled his eyes, pulled Itachi along, and ended their observation mission.
...
Bang.
Inside the Tsuchikage’s building, within Ōnoki’s private office, a sharp crack echoed.
The fragile desk shattered under the furious palm strike of the still-energetic Third Tsuchikage.
“Who did this!?”
“This is a provocation against Iwagakure!”
And of course it was.
Ōnoki’s authority within Iwagakure was absolute—completely different from Hiruzen Sarutobi’s era in Konoha, where Danzō would occasionally interfere. In Iwagakure, only Ōnoki’s voice mattered.
And his qualifications were unquestionable.
His grandfather was the First Tsuchikage, Ishikawa. His teacher was the Second Tsuchikage, Mu. With lineage and mastery both supporting him, his position as the Third Tsuchikage was unshakably firm.
The only person who ever disagreed with him, Rōshi, had already left the village.
He was the sole Tsuchikage, the inheritor of the Will of Stone.
Yet even with such unquestioned authority, one of his men had been killed—and their body dumped at the gates of Iwagakure.
Was someone trying to challenge him directly?
Fuming, he listened to Kitsuchi finish reporting the results of the corpse examination. Unable to contain his rage any longer, Ōnoki slammed his palm down again, sending the remains of the table scattering.
“The wounds were made by a sharp blade—almost all of them were killed in a single strike.”
“Captain Shizuto has plenty of field experience, but we also can’t rule out the possibility that the enemy used a Transformation Technique to get close, then finished them in one blow.”
“Besides the cuts, several had their hearts pierced by Lightning Release. Some of the others had scorch marks on their bodies.”
As the son of the Third Tsuchikage Ōnoki, Kitsuchi’s skills were excellent. After personally examining the bodies, he had already identified several causes of death.
Analyzing an enemy’s identity based on such details was a common method among ninja.
But it didn’t always produce reliable results.
For example, although Iwagakure is the village of the Land of Earth, that didn’t mean they lacked Water Release users. And even a specialist in Earth Release could use other elemental releases after reaching jōnin level—though their effectiveness was terrible, and no one would actually fight that way.
Still, because such techniques existed, it made covering up injuries easy.
What made things worse was that modern shinobi typically hid or disposed of bodies to prevent intel leaks, so chances to analyze corpses were already rare.
Yet those who killed the intel squad headed for the Land of Lightning hadn’t even bothered hiding the bodies—they threw them right at Iwagakure’s front gate.
Just as Ōnoki had said, this was a direct provocation.
At the same time, the bodies did reveal valuable information.
“Lightning Release?”
Ōnoki’s face darkened.
Could the mission to probe Kumogakure’s condition have been exposed?
Impossible. Even if there was a leak, this was the Land of Earth’s hidden trump card.
He understood Kumogakure’s strength well. They wouldn’t dare pull something so arrogant as dumping corpses at their doorstep.
“It’s probably not Kumogakure.”
Kitsuchi’s expression hardened. “Others might not know, but this technique—Lightning Release aimed precisely at the heart—I know exactly what it’s called.”
“Lightning Cutter.”
Both Ōnoki and Kitsuchi stiffened in realization.
Lightning Cutter.
One of the signature techniques of the famed Sharingan-wielder, Kakashi.
That unique assassination method was practically exclusive to him in the entire ninja world.
And they weren’t making blind guesses. They had seen this before. During the Third Shinobi World War, the squad under Minato Namikaze—Kakashi’s squad—was the one that severed the Kannabi Bridge supply line.
The wounds left on their fallen ninja back then were strikingly similar to the ones before them now.
...
“Konoha, huh?”
Ōnoki took a long breath to calm himself.
The Will of Stone represented unyielding resolve and unwavering steadiness.
He understood that principle, even if he didn’t always embody it perfectly.
“It’s also possible someone else learned this technique and is framing Konoha.”
“In any case, there’s no doubt it was Lightning Cutter.”
Kitsuchi nodded, thought for a moment, then spoke again. “Father, considering we joined forces with other villages to attack Konoha not long ago… if this really was a Konoha ninja, could it be retaliation?”
“Konoha? Don’t make me laugh.”
Ōnoki let out a cold snort, disdain twisting his face. “I’ve dealt with them personally—starting from their First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, to their Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi.”
“Besides the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, who had real capability, the other two would never dare initiate an attack like this.”
“And that newly appointed Minato Namikaze? In both influence and authority, he’d be completely suppressed by the Third. He wouldn’t be able to stir up a thing.”
“Sarutobi is the type who endures whenever possible. How could he ever approve of such retaliation?”
“Konoha doesn’t have the guts.”
Bang!
The office door burst open, and a panicked Iwagakure ninja rushed inside.
“Tsuchikage-SAMA! Another killing!”
Boom.
“Where!? Take me there!”
Enraged, Ōnoki kicked aside the broken remains of the desk, grabbed the messenger, and stormed out.
His fury had reached its limit.