Ōnoki's Secret Maneuvers

Ōnoki's mustache trembled with rage at Deidara's merciless accusations.

He slammed his cane down, his aged voice full of anguish at Deidara's failings:

"You little bastard! You're blaming me now?! What about you?! What have you done in all these years as Tsuchikage?! Huh?!"

He pointed at the magnificent buildings, statues, and museums outside the window. "All you care about is your 'art'! Your head is full of explosions and statues! How lax has the village's ninja training become? How much have you invested in weapons research?"

"Most of the budget has gone into these flashy, useless things! Look at Iwagakure now. It looks splendid on the surface, but how many ninja do we have left who could march straight onto a battlefield and hold off Kumogakure's elite?!"

A barely perceptible sorrow crept into Ōnoki's voice:

"If Kumogakure really drops all pretense someday and attacks under the guise of a visit, with what little we have left, we might not even be able to mount an effective resistance!"

"When that happens, this 'City of Art' you worked so hard to build, this futuristic city of your dreams, will become a scorched wasteland engulfed in flames under Kumogakure's Lightning Release and iron fists!"

"All of Iwagakure will cease to exist! Is that the future you want, Deidara?!"

Like a powder keg set alight, Deidara slammed his fist onto the desk, sending documents flying everywhere.

His chest heaved. The blue eyes that always burned with creative passion now blazed with fury as he glared at Ōnoki:

"Bullshit! Open your eyes and take a good look, old man! Hm!"

He swept his arm out, pointing at the futuristic city beyond the window, its lights glittering and traffic flowing without end:

"What kind of life did Iwagakure have before?! Buried in windblown sand all