Coldhearted Izuna

Izuna stood by the lake, his gaze shifting from the fading image. "It's none of my business."

Mokushō's voice drifted over from the side. "So cold-hearted."

"I'm not a superhero," Izuna pouted. "I don't save people for no reason."

Even if I had a way?

"What does that have to do with me? What would I get in return for saving him?"

Mokushō's tone carried a subtle appreciation. "You're so pragmatic, I like that."

Izuna's lips twitched. "You talk so greasy."

He looked down at the lake; the mist had gathered again, completely engulfing the scene, and the water had returned to its mirror-like calm.

"However, if you really have a way, it's not out of the question to save them. Just think of it as saving a small animal."

Mokushō let out a short laugh, "You're all bark and no bite."

"Hmph." Izuna raised his chin. "I call this being somewhat kind, but not much."

"The Clear-Hearted College Student Debuff has been applied."

"What's wrong?" Izuna tilted her head to look at him, "You don't want to save him?"

"He's not meant to be with me, it wouldn't be right for me to offer help directly."

Izuna asked, puzzled, "But you know him now, can't that be considered fate?"

"Knowing someone doesn't mean I'll befriend them," Mokushō's voice became serious, "But I can teach you how to save him. I'll show you now."

They first returned to the area they had just been in.

Izuna was still muttering things like, "Is it really okay not to pull him out of the lake?" when he stepped back into that grayish-white space and saw that the person had already returned.

The man stood before him, still with that young face and that expressionless demeanor, holding a knife in his hand and staring at him with vacant eyes.

"Okay," Mokushō said, "Cutting off his head will restore him to normal."

Izuna's expression froze. "You're serious."

"Seriously."

Izuna felt conflicted; his intuition told him not to cut it, but the Mokushō was telling him to cut it instead.

Sigh, Mokushō knows more, let's listen to him for now.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dazzling my eyelids, creating a blinding white blur. When I opened my eyes again, a small patch of bright light floated before me.

Ichita lay on the ground, his head resting on pebbles, with the blue sky above him.

He shielded his eyes from the sunlight, blinked blankly, and slowly sat up, a dull ache throbbing at the back of his head.

He looked down at his hands, then at the alleyways around him.

Pleasure Quarter? What's he doing here?

He remembered that he seemed to have been attacked, and then... he was just left here like that?

So what was I doing before that?

After thinking about it for Ichita long time, Ichita gave up.

I can't remember.

He sat there in a daze for a while, then stood up without thinking, dusted himself off, and left.

Izuna stood behind the corner of the wall not far away, watching the figure disappear into the alleyway.

"He looks like he's lost his mind." He turned to look at Mokushō. "Didn't you say you were fine?"

Mokushō peeking out from beside him when he heard this, and waved his hand, "That's what happens when you cut off a part of your memory, don't worry about it."

Seeing his bewildered expression, Izuna asked with some concern, "Could he be mentally damaged?"

"He just can't remember what happened right now," Mokushō said. "He'll remember once his new mind develops."

Izuna stared at him, a strange expression on her face. "Seriously, do you all deal with Mindscape issues this violently?"

"It's usually not that extreme." Mokushō tilted his head. "Relationships between people are never smooth sailing; it's through conflict that we gradually learn to get along and get along."

"Then why did you ask me to go and chop off heads?"

"His subconscious has been affected. If he's not killed soon, his conscious mind will be replaced, and then there's really no hope for him."

"Can't understand."

"They've been brainwashed," Mokushō said succinctly.

"Understood."

Mokushō pondered, "But how could such brutal methods appear here? The traces are too obvious."

Izuna tilted her head to look at him. "There are traces here?"

"Brainwashing is usually a gradual process," Mokushō said, holding up a finger. "It requires a long-term plan, or a huge external stimulus, or at the very least, using Genjutsu to disturb the mind. But in his current state, his subconscious has clearly been directly manipulated; he doesn't even know he's doing anything wrong. Even in our world, such methods are extremely vicious."

"I see..." Izuna nodded, then asked, "By the way, how did you know so much?"

"We have anti-brainwashing tutorials."

Izuna looked at him strangely, "This sounds like a scam warning."

Mokushō shrugged, turning his head to look towards the alley entrance. The figure of the Tsuchigumo Clan member had long since disappeared.

Mokushō said, "But we still don't know why that person wanted to bomb the Land of Hot Water."

"Sigh, it doesn't matter." Izuna waved his hand. "Just protect Zhen. They can't carry out their plan if they can't find him."

Mokushō frowned. "I'm afraid they have a backup plan. Their capture of Zhen was just a spur-of-the-moment decision, otherwise they wouldn't have let that girl escape. They must have other methods to cause widespread damage."

Izuna withdrew his gaze and walked out of the alley.

"Let's meet force with force, and water with earth," he said. "The enemy is in the dark while we are in the light. Time is of the essence, so we can only react passively."

Hashirama sat in the cabin, initially chatting casually with Madara, but as time passed, they both fell silent.

He looked towards the shore.

It's been at least half an hour since we disembarked. With Tobirama's abilities, it shouldn't have taken this long to gather information. Even if something went wrong along the way, he should have sent a message back by now.

Hashirama frowned and tapped his fingers twice on his knee.

That uneasy feeling returned; it hadn't dissipated since I first saw that Daikokuten.

He stood up, tugged at his clothes, and smoothed out the wrinkles.

"Excuse my rudeness." He bowed slightly to Kyōnosuke. "I just realized I haven't bought souvenirs for Mito and Yūki yet. It wouldn't be right to go back empty-handed after coming all this way to the Land of Hot Water. I'll go take a look around and be right back."

Kyōnosuke nodded. "Go ahead, and help me pick something out too. I need to get something for my wife. If I come all this way and don't bring back a souvenir, they probably won't even let me in the door."

Hashirama nodded, then looked at Madara.

"I'll leave this to you."

Ban nodded. "Don't worry."

Hashirama turned and walked to the stern, then stepped onto the side of the boat and jumped onto the waiting ferry.

The boatman used a bamboo pole, and the small boat swayed gently away from the large ship, heading towards the dock.

Kyōnosuke watched the small boat sail away and sighed.

"Sigh... How did such a nice Summer Festival turn into such a mess?"

As he spoke, he turned his head to look at Ban.

Ban leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, seemingly resting.

Kyōnosuke looked at him for a while, then suddenly asked, "What is Lord Madara thinking about?"

Madara opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Kyōnosuke's face, indifferent and devoid of warmth.

"This is none of your business."

Kyōnosuke wasn't intimidated by his cold expression; instead, he smiled.

"Are you thinking about your younger brother?" he said. "Izuna is alone on the shore; you're probably worried about him."

Madara narrowed his eyes slightly. This person...

Kyōnosuke met his gaze for a moment, his gentle smile still on his face.

Madara didn't lash out. Given Kyōnosuke's status and the current situation, he had to protect this person, rather than pinning him to the ground and smashing that smug face.

Kyōnosuke leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the distant shore. "Konoha's been doing quite well lately."

Ban didn't reply, he just looked at him.

"Even though you were so harsh on the people we sent, they still didn't completely deny everything you did." Kyōnosuke withdrew his gaze, turning to look at Madara. "That does surprise me somewhat."

Ban frowned.

Kyōnosuke, seemingly oblivious to his reaction, continued, "How could a Ninja create such an opera and propose such a system?"

"Afterwards, the opening of the Amusement Park coincided with the establishment of Konoha Special Administrative Region, which earned the Hokage immense popularity, making people cheer for him."

"Even though an event occurred that could have destroyed all efforts, it was weathered safely with almost no casualties, and a unique Memorial Service was held to deter the nobles from any further rash actions."

Ban's brows furrowed even more tightly.

Kyōnosuke looked up at him, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"And then there's the incident at the docks in the Land of Hot Water."

"Your Majesty," Madara's voice deepened, carrying a clear warning.

Kyōnosuke didn't stop.

"It was all your brother's doing," he said with certainty. "Am I right?"

Ban pursed his lips.

"Really."

Madara's gaze turned cold. "If you dare do anything to him—"

"I wouldn't dare," Kyōnosuke, wiping his teacup. His tone remained calm and unhurried. "I can't beat you all, and I'll have to rely on you to get through this. I can't afford to offend any of you."

Ban stared at him, not letting his guard down.

Kyōnosuke lowered his hand, leaned back against the gunwale, and turned his gaze back to the shore.

"I just want to say," he lowered his voice, "That you've already done so many shocking things, so stop hiding his existence."

Ban didn't reply.

"The situation is tense right now, and everyone is trying to find a weakness," Kyōnosuke said. "The more you try to hide it, the more they'll want to eliminate you. So why not be high-profile? With your Strength, you can definitely do it."

"No need for you to trouble yourself, sir," Ban said in a flat tone.

Undeterred by his cold expression, Kyōnosuke continued speaking in a low voice.

"Izuna clearly has more to his mind," he said. "Although his actions appear quite restrained, they still seem far too arrogant to me."

Ban frowned.

He didn't want to admit it, but he had to, that Kyōnosuke was right.

Izuna was indeed arrogant.

That attitude of taking peace for granted.

He was indifferent to the hatred of others, and showed no arrogance towards the kindness of others.

Even in the midst of chaos, he could still notice trivial matters, and he showed no panic when the situation was unfavorable.

And his relaxed demeanor during battles, whether dealing with Hashirama or being surrounded by multiple opponents, he always seemed to be handling things with ease.

Only in battles other than those against Black Zetsu and Isshiki can one glimpse his true power.

"His ideas have probably already surpassed those of us mere mortals," said Kyōnosuke, his tone tinged with emotion. "Moreover, you possess the power to realize them; your Konoha is the embodiment of his achievements. In that case, why not let him fully display his talents?"

Ban's gaze turned cold.

"Your Majesty," he said, emphasizing each word, "I've already told you, this is none of your business."

Looking at his relaxed expression, Kyōnosuke knew he shared the same thought. He raised an eyebrow. "Then I'll wait and see."

Ban clicked his tongue and turned his head away.

Old fox.

Kyōnosuke stopped looking at him, leaned against the gunwale, and gazed beyond the eaves and lanterns on the shore, looking further into the distance.

The sea stretched out from the dock, a gray-blue expanse as calm as a cloth spread out by someone. In the far distance, the sky and the sea merged into a blurry line, making it impossible to distinguish where the water ended and the sky began.

A wind blew in from the sea, carrying a salty, damp scent, and ruffled the stray hairs on his forehead.

He looked at the boundless sea and smiled.

I wonder where this gust of wind from Izuna will take this world.

Tobirama lay on the beam, listening to their conversation with his eyes closed.

He wanted to know what Bishamonten's backup plan was, but Bishamonten had not revealed any clues.

He ignored the advisors' chatter below, maintaining an air of profound mystery, and simply smiled.

Once the murmurs subsided, he slowly began to speak, changing the subject.

First, he asked the advisors if they were comfortable with their accommodations after their long journey. Then he mentioned that the Hot Springs in Land of Hot Water are excellent, and suggested that if they had the time, they should go and soak in them.

He then mentioned that a new teahouse had opened on the street yesterday, and the dim sum was quite good. He had someone send a few boxes to the accommodations of the advisors as a token of his hospitality.

The advisors exchanged bewildered glances, and some gracefully Underground Passage the offer of thanks.

Some people wouldn't give up and brought the topic back. "When can we discuss the cooperation that Lord Bishamonten just mentioned?"

Bishamonten waved his hand and smiled warmly, "No rush, no rush. You have all come from afar. Let's set up a table by the Hot Springs, drink and chat. Wouldn't that be better than just sitting here?"

This statement was so flawless that no one could find fault with it. The representative from the Land of Water opened his mouth, but in the end, he could only put down his teacup and stop asking questions.

What followed was a long exchange of pleasantries.

They talked about the weather and seafood, then about this year's rice prices, and finally about interesting anecdotes from their respective countries.

The representative from the Land of Lightning had a loud voice and told a joke, which drew laughter from the crowd.

Tobirama lay on the veranda ceiling, his arms twitching from prolonged inactivity.

He felt as if someone had pressed him into a chair and poured a pot of lukewarm water over him, making him extremely uncomfortable.

These words went on and on, without a single word of truly useful information, and yet he couldn't leave; he had to stay there and listen to the whole thing.

Until noon, when the sun was directly overhead, its rays shone through the eaves of the corridor, making the bloodstains in the courtyard appear glaringly obvious.

The Bishamonten finally raised his hand and clapped his hands.

"It's getting late," he said. "It's time to go see the fireworks."