The cicadas of Konoha Year 10 could not be heard in Great Britain across the vast ocean. But in Great Britain's rainforests, there was a sound louder and deeper than their cries-the mingling of hammers striking anvils, gunpowder exploding in barrels, and the clamor of ten thousand people at work, a newborn nation's heavy breathing.
In the royal court, the smell of gunsmoke and metal seemed not to have entirely dispersed. Standing below the seat of honor, Yutian could not help glancing at the Repeating Hand Cannon reverently displayed on the weapons rack. In just a few days, this deadly weapon had become a new totem throughout Great Britain, symbolizing strength and the future. Yet another question kept lingering in Yutian's mind, one that had circled there for a long time without a suitable opportunity to ask it.
He looked at his lord, the Shadow Clone, standing straight-backed before the sand table, then recalled the unfathomable power the original had displayed in Konoha, power that had even made him faintly tremble. Yutian was no fool. He could sense that his lord's strength had probably long since reached a level beyond his imagination. Perhaps that level... rivaled Hashirama Senju, who had subdued the Nine-Tails single-handedly and put an end to Madara Uchiha?
Finally, after reporting on the resettlement of the latest tribes to submit and the arrangements for border patrols, Yutian drew a deep breath and stepped half a pace forward, his voice carrying a barely perceptible trace of confusion and awe:
"My lord, there is... something I don't understand. It has been weighing on me for a long time."
"Speak." The Shadow Clone "Yinglang" did not turn around. His finger moved slowly across the red area marked "Black Rock Tribe" on the sand table, seemingly planning another round of operations.