Secret Conspiracy Buried Underwater

The letter bore the unmistakable seal of Kumogakure.

The Kumogakure ninja who delivered the message had been pinned to the ground by a patrol squad the moment he reached the gates of Iwagakure.

Before the interrogation team could even arrive, the man's mouth twitched, his head lolled to the side, and black blood sprayed directly from his nostrils. In less than two minutes, despite four medical ninjas surrounding him and injecting over a dozen antidotes, they couldn't pull him back from the gates of death.

"...These are troubled times."

Ōnoki narrowed his eyes, his voice carrying the heavy, gravelly resonance of stone.

"What madness are those brainless brutes in Kumogakure up to now?"

He had lived too long—long enough to personally usher in the golden age of Iwagakure, long enough to believe he had seen every storm imaginable. Yet, as he tore open the letter and scanned the first line by candlelight, his entire body shuddered, and he nearly tumbled from mid-air.

The handwriting on the letter was jagged, as if the writer's hand had been trembling—born of extreme rage, utter disbelief, or perhaps... fear?

[Two Orochimaru have appeared in Konoha. The Sannin have reunited. Killer B and I joined forces, yet we were defeated by them.]

[Ōnoki, Konoha has only just endured the Tailed Beast incident. Now that such reinforcements have suddenly emerged, are you not afraid that they have been hiding their strength all along, plotting to swallow us whole?]

[If you have any thoughts of forming an alliance, reply immediately to discuss it with me.]

[Raikage—Ai]

Ōnoki stared at the letter, his eyes flashing with absurdity before hardening into gravity. He slowly slammed the paper onto the desk with such force that dust kicked up from beneath the table legs, a loud "bang" echoing through the empty office.

"Madman..."

He muttered to himself, his voice trembling with disbelief.

"Either the Raikage has gone insane, or... the world has."

But he knew better than anyone that the brutes in Kumogakure, who would rather stuff their skulls with muscle than brains, would not fabricate intelligence so casually. Especially this generation's Raikage, Ai, who possessed far more cunning than the old man from the previous generation who knew only how to charge forward.

"So, all of this might actually be true..."

Ōnoki stood stunned. As he aged, his mind didn't turn as quickly as it once did, but his experience acted like a thick layer of moss, preserving the true core of the ninja world's politics.

He pondered for a moment before calling out toward the door.

"Kitsuchi! Get in here!"

The door pushed open, and a man with a red headscarf, a thick beard, and a prominent nose walked in. He looked honest and simple, but his gait was steady, each step seemingly measured to the inch.

"Father, you called for me in the middle of the night. What's the matter?"

Kitsuchi rubbed his hands together, his gaze sweeping across the office before landing on the letter on the desk.

"Here, see for yourself."

Ōnoki hovered and turned, sliding the letter over, his body struggling to remain steady in the air.

Kitsuchi didn't rush to open it, instead leaning in to verify the seal on the envelope.

He had inherited his father's caution, perhaps even exceeding it. His fingers brushed the edges of the envelope twice to ensure there were no hidden layers before he carefully pried it open.

"A secret letter from Kumogakure?"

He frowned as he spoke.

"Strange. Why would they send us a message now? And the ninja who delivered it committed suicide... no matter how I look at it, it feels like a trap."

Ōnoki raised an eyebrow and asked.

"Why would you think that?"

"Father, the Third Raikage died at our hands."

Kitsuchi's honest face held a look of gravity that made Ōnoki re-evaluate his son.

"But that has absolutely nothing to do with this current matter. You are being too cautious, Kitsuchi."

Ōnoki hovered down and tapped the desk.

"You'll understand once you read the letter."

Urged by his father, Kitsuchi opened the letter. He read slowly, reciting the contents word for word.

It took less than half a minute.

"...W-w-what does this mean?!"

Kitsuchi, with his heavy frame, jumped right up in the Iwagakure office, his red headscarf sliding to one side.

"What do you mean two Orochimaru appeared?! Our scouts have never sent back such reports! And we never received news that the Raikage and his brother were defeated!!"

"I am just as shocked."

Ōnoki folded his arms, his expression grim.

"But I have a feeling... that this is true."

"Why would you say that so suddenly?"

Kitsuchi leaned against the desk, breathing heavily.

Ōnoki hovered and circled twice, as if organizing his thoughts, before finally stopping in front of his son.

"The Fourth Raikage, Ai, is more cautious than his predecessors, and... killing the messenger without hesitation is not their usual style."

Ōnoki paused, a flash of seasoned, sharp insight crossing his eyes.

"When a person, or a village, suddenly does something that completely defies logic, there is only one possibility."

"That is, he has truly grasped the truth."

The letter in Kitsuchi's hand fell to the floor with a soft pat.

That was Orochimaru.

One Kage-level combatant—no, now it was two Kage-level combatants, plus the reunited Sannin. That was a force capable of truly swaying the tide of war, a weight that could shatter the balance of the Five Great Nations.

He couldn't help but swallow, his voice dry.

"Then, Father, what should we do?"

Ōnoki remained silent for two seconds, then spoke slowly.

"Write a letter and send it over. Arrange a meeting between me and Ai... You and Akatsuchi will accompany me."

"Understood."

Kitsuchi bent down to pick up the letter, answered respectfully, and turned to leave.

"Wait."

Ōnoki suddenly called out to him. He opened his mouth as if to give an instruction, but finally waved his hand and sighed.

"Remember to write in the secret letter that Ai should kill the messenger immediately after reading it..."

He gave a self-deprecating smile.

"Forget it, he would do that even without me saying it. Just pick someone sharp to deliver it."

"Understood, Father."

Kitsuchi finally became completely deferential. He placed the envelope back on the desk in Ōnoki's office, took three steps back, turned, and exited, closing the door softly behind him.

The office fell silent once more.

Ōnoki hovered in the darkness, staring at the letter on the desk, motionless for a long time.

"Konoha..."

He slowly closed his eyes, his voice as light as a sigh, yet as heavy as a tombstone.

"Truly, a place where heroes emerge in succession."

A night passed. In the forest on the outskirts of Konoha, the sky had just begun to brighten, and dew still clung to the tips of the grass, cool and damp.

Lin Zi rolled off the rock and sat up, rubbing his numb back as his bones popped twice.

"Roleplay, Naruto Uzumaki."

He shouted in his mind.

"I'm preparing to return to the village."

[Received.]

As the system's voice faded, a sudden change occurred.

Lin Zi felt a surge of warm, vast energy, carrying a faint, metallic sweetness, erupting within his body.

His hair faded visibly from black to gold, as if bleached by the sun; his pupils shifted from dark brown back to azure blue, and six whisker marks appeared on his cheeks.

He looked down at his palms, spreading his fingers and clenching them, adapting to this body that was several years younger.

"Still the same, but not bad."

He grinned, leaped off the rock, and pushed off the ground, sprinting toward Konoha. The morning wind whistled in his ears, and the trees along the way blurred backward. Occasionally, a villager out early to chop wood would only see a flash, as a golden-haired afterimage streaked past.

"Is that Lord Minato? Starting his morning run so early? How diligent!"

The villager exclaimed in wonder.

In less than half an incense stick of time, he stood at the entrance of Minato's home. Lin Zi caught his breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and walked up the steps with a swagger.

"Yo, I'm here to see how you're recovering, old lady."

He switched back to Naruto's tone, his voice lazy and filled with a provocative, casual air. He pushed the door, and it creaked open.

Hearing the commotion, Kushina jerked her head up.

Her face was still somewhat pale, but much better than before. Her long red hair was scattered across the pillow, and the moment their eyes met, she froze.

Those red pupils were locked firmly onto the face of the golden-haired boy at the door.

"Are... are you... Naruto?"

Kushina's voice trembled, her fingers unconsciously clutching the quilt.

"You're finally willing to come back?"