Jiraiya crouched on the eaves.
He stared at the distant explosion site cordoned off by the Anbu, his brow deeply furrowed.
"Who still dares to provoke Konoha these days?"
Orochimaru leaned against the chimney beside him, an icy gleam in his golden slit pupils and a spine-chilling smile on his lips.
He licked his lips.
"This world has never lacked lunatics. Jiraiya, you've lived this long, and you still haven't figured it out? Peace exists only in the hearts of the majority. For a select few, chaos is what sustains them."
Jiraiya glanced sideways at him, waiting for him to continue.
Orochimaru didn't disappoint him. If anything, he delivered far too much.
"Look, the war in the Shinobi World is over, the Five Kage Alliance has been established, Ōtsutsuki Isshiki is dead, and Kaguya has been brought into the fold. This world has never been more peaceful."
He paused.
"But for certain people, this peace means they've lost the conditions they need to survive. In wartime, they were assets every faction scrambled to win over."
"In peacetime, they're worth less than trash. So they'll crawl out of the woodwork, stir up trouble, and do whatever it takes to plunge this world back into chaos."
"Because they can only catch fish when the waters are muddy."
Jiraiya watched Orochimaru's endlessly chattering mouth open and close, close and open, churning out one philosophical insight after another.
As he listened, his initial frown turned to blankness, then confusion, then a dazed look that said, You make so much sense that I can't even argue.
"When did you become such a know-it-all?"
Orochimaru snorted.
"I've always understood. No one wanted to listen before."
Jiraiya thought about it. That did seem to be true.
After a brief silence, he took the cigarette out of his