A Rich Woman Is a Bone-Grinding Knife; Even the Sharpest Edges Can Be Worn Smooth

Konoha neither deliberately concealed nor publicly promoted the news that Tobirama Senju had won his resurrection match.

But there was no such thing as a wall without cracks. Before twenty-four hours had passed, this unbelievable news had landed on the desks of leaders from ninja villages large and small.

Iwagakure.

Ōnoki, already overwhelmed by preparations for war reserves, merely glanced at the intelligence his subordinate had just submitted. Veins instantly bulged across his bald forehead.

"Smack!"

His callused palm slammed onto the table, and the marble surface, already covered in cracks, seemed on the verge of collapsing.

"You're Anbu, at least have some ability to verify intelligence! How dare you bring me such an obviously fake report about a corpse coming back to life?"

He glared furiously at the trembling masked Iwagakure ninja before him, already considering whether he ought to cut some Anbu funding in the name of cost reduction and efficiency, perhaps motivating these fools to work harder.

"Reporting to Tsuchikage-sama, Tobirama Senju truly appeared at Konoha's Jonin regular meeting this morning."

Seeing that Ōnoki still did not believe him and fearing for his year-end bonus, the Anbu hurriedly explained the source of the intelligence.

"This is firsthand information sent back by the intelligence station we planted in Konoha. It is absolutely reliable!"

"The intelligence station? That takeout shop selling Earth Country-style braised pork knuckles?"

At the mention of the intelligence station, the suspicion on Ōnoki's face immediately lessened.

He knew very well how accurate the intelligence sent by that station, disguised as a popular takeout shop, was. Over so many years, it could be said that it had never made a mistake.

"Yes!"

"Tch! At a time like this..."

Ōnoki clicked his tongue. Tobirama Senju was famously devious. Iwagakure was already in a difficult position; if Konoha