Konoha, at one of Root's secret bases.
This place lay farther out than the central chamber where Danzo usually stayed, but it was also more spacious. It looked like a converted abandoned warehouse. Dust hung heavily in the air, and only a few oil lamps flickered in the corners, their dim yellow light stretching the shadows of the crowd into ghostly shapes that writhed across the mottled walls.
There were quite a few people, twenty or so.
Their clothes varied. Some were reasonably well dressed but wore gloomy expressions. Others clearly spent their lives braving the elements, with scars on their faces and hands. A few were elderly, leaning on canes, their eyes clouded but burning deep within.
What they shared was the look on their faces, as though they had just chewed raw gall, and like dry tinder ready to ignite.
At the front of the crowd, a gaunt middle-aged man gripped several thin sheets of paper, the veins bulging on the back of his hand. His eyes were bloodshot, not from crying, but from restraint and fury. He was the current head of the Gekko Clan, Gekko Hayate's father, Gekko Wuzang.
The Hayate Clan had once counted for something. Now...
"Hiruzen Sarutobi... that goddamn bastard! That shameless, filthy scum!" Gekko Wuzang forced the words through his teeth, his voice hoarse and bloody.
"What gives him the right?! Huh?! What gives his Sarutobi Clan the right to secretly amass over five thousand Chunin?! Huh?!"
He shook the papers in his hand. They were part of the list Danzo had "shared." Incomplete though it was, it was shocking.
"This alone! Just the ones we can verify on here, with names and mission records, already come to almost three thousand! And that's only what's above the surface! How many more are