Konoha's despair had reached the breaking point.
It was like a rubber band stretched to its limit, ready to snap in two at any moment.
The atmosphere in the village grew more oppressive by the day.
Inside the Hokage's office.
Smoke billowed through the room, making his eyes water.
Hiruzen Sarutobi had shut himself inside for three whole days without stepping out.
The documents on his desk were piled as high as a mountain, but he hadn't read a single one.
He just mechanically smoked his pipe, one cigarette after another.
"Bang!"
The door was shoved open roughly.
Utatane Koharu and Mitokado Homura, the two old geezers, stood in the doorway with dark faces, like a pair of door gods.
"Hiruzen! How much longer are you going to hide?"
Koharu's sharp voice grated like fingernails on glass.
"The Daimyo's Court sent someone to press us again just now!"
"The daimyo said that if we can't show any decent results, next quarter's military budget will be cut to zero!"
Mitokado Homura adjusted his glasses, his voice dry.
"Then the village really will have to shut up shop!"
Hiruzen Sarutobi slowly raised his head.
His wrinkled old face was barely visible through the smoke, haggard as a corpse about to be buried.
His eyes were sunken, and his eyeballs were shot through with blood vessels.
"Results? What results can we show?"
The old monkey gave a self-mocking laugh, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper scraping against itself.
"The entire Shinobi World knows that Konoha is a crippled shell of a village."
"Even Hidden Sand and Hidden Cloud have gone to be Iwagakure's dogs. Who still takes us seriously?"
"Then let them see! Konoha isn't dead yet!"
Shimura Danzō, who had stayed silent until then, emerged limping from the shadows, leaning on his