Deep within Root's secret base, in a room whose walls were covered in sealing runes, the atmosphere was somewhat peculiar.
Leaning on his cane, Shimura Danzō fixed his single eye on the blond boy before him. His voice was as hoarse as ever, but he deliberately slowed his speech, adopting a condescending tone, as though entrusting him with a great responsibility:
"Naruto, the Southern Battlefield will be under considerable pressure in the coming Third Shinobi World War. Those iron monsters from Sunagakure aren't easy to deal with. On the battlefield... we'll be counting on you to do more."
He tilted his head slightly. The corner of his mouth beneath the bandages seemed to attempt a "kindly" curve, but it only made him look more sinister.
"Whatever else may be true, protecting Konoha and the comrades fighting beside you is a duty etched into every Konoha ninja's bones. Surely you can't shirk that? After all, you're a Konoha ninja too. You're... the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki."
He put slightly more weight on those last few words, making them both a reminder and an invisible shackle.
Naruto Uzumaki folded his arms and awkwardly turned his head away, giving a disgruntled snort. His blue eyes were full of reluctance, but deep within them, there was less of that pure, volcanic anger he had shown at first.
"You nasty old man, I know what to do without you telling me," he muttered, his voice muffled.
These past few months had been like being forcibly shoved into a twisted mold.
This "nasty old man," Danzo, controlled him like a dog on a leash with cursed seals and sealing jutsu, forcing him to learn wind release ninjutsu and stealth techniques he had once considered "underhanded." He also made him read dark intelligence from Root and Konoha's deepest recesses,