Who Runs the Shinobi World? Ye Does

Kumogakure's night watch bell was still echoing halfway up the mountain.

A Ninja Hawk, exhausted from flying, crashed into the Intelligence Building and swept the last of the snow off a windowsill.

A dull thud came from the Raikage's Office.

The projection on the wall had just finished playing. The battle footage froze on a scene of vines bursting from the ground in every direction.

The Fourth Raikage stared at it, every muscle in his body taut. The thick ceramic teacup in his hand shattered under his grip.

Scalding tea and shards ran down his arm. He did not so much as twitch an eyebrow. Four words slipped through his clenched teeth.

"Wood Release without hand signs?!"

The Jonin who had delivered the report lowered his head even further, his shoulders rigid.

"Iwagakure included testimony from a survivor. Those Konoha guards couldn't even get the basic hand signs right."

The Raikage slammed his palm down. The solid ebony desk, built to withstand Lightning Release, snapped in two.

Mountains of paperwork scattered across the floor. Pens and ink followed, spilling black liquid over the pure-wool carpet.

The Secretary calmly bent down to pick up the dented ink tray, then waved to the stunned guards at the door.

"Get another desk from the storeroom. Pick a reinforced one."

A Genin carrying the desk had barely stepped through the doorway when he heard that and backed out again.

"Secretary, the thickest one in the storeroom was brought here last month. It's the one lying in pieces on the floor."

The Raikage's bloodshot eyes swept toward him. The Genin snatched up a broken desk leg, turned, and ran.

"Konoha put a bunch of deadweights in iron shells, and now they can absorb ninjutsu and use Wood Release?"

The Raikage yanked over the Border Defense