Sparks danced. Paper ash fell onto the mahogany table, crumbling into black powder.
Shu Shiraishi rubbed his fingers on the edge of the table twice to remove the dust.
He tugged at his lips, revealing a few gleaming white teeth on one side.
"No."
The voice was deep. It bumped back and forth twice in the spacious office.
"This is Konoha's surrender ceremony."
Nara Rokumei stood by the table.
He wore a slightly oversized gray vest, his shoulders were slumped, and his hands were in his pockets.
Upon hearing this, sweat poured down Rokumei's forehead.
Sweat trickled down his nose and clung to the tip. He quickly wiped it away with his sleeve.
"H- Lord Hokage!"
Rokumei's throat was dry, and he spoke with a slight stutter.
"This invitation... it's clearly a trap!"
He hurriedly took half a step forward, his leather shoe slamming against the table leg with a dull thud.
" The Land of Iron is indeed a neutral country, but that place is perpetually snowbound, and its terrain is like a funnel in an iron bucket."
Rokumei pulled his hands out of his pockets and gestured in mid-air.
"A joint petition from the four daimyo? That must be the work of that old fox, Ōnoki."
"If they really want peace talks, they should come to the Konoha and kneel down!"
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.
"By setting the location in the Land of Iron, they've secretly planted countless elite troops. With all four Kage gathered, it's a trap from heaven and earth!"
Shu Shiraishi didn't watch Rokumei.
He reached for the rough porcelain teacup on the table, tilted his head back, and gulped down a mouthful of cold water.
His Adam's apple rolled up and down twice.
"Bang."
The teacup rested heavily on the solid wood table. Water splashed onto the paper dust, leaving a small black spot.
"A net stretching to the heavens and the earth?"
Shu Shiraishi took his military boots off the edge of the table and stepped on the carpet with a dull thud.
"If they can't even weave a net, I'd rather not have made the trip at all."
He grabbed the black trench coat draped over the back of the chair and unfolded it.
The trench coat swayed in the wind, draped over his shoulders.
Orochimaru stood in the shadows at the corner of the wall.
His yellowish eyes stared at the ashes on the ground, and he licked his chapped lips.
" Lord Shu, how many mecha escort teams should we allocate?"
Orochimaru asked in a hoarse voice, "Over at the Uchiha Urban Management Brigade, Kagami has already had people loading high-explosive shells."
"Need not."
Shu Shiraishi buttoned up the collar of his trench coat.
"What kind of talk is it to bring a bunch of soldiers to a meeting?"
Orochimaru froze, then took two steps toward the light.
Are you going alone?
"Go pick up the car."
Shu Shiraishi pushed the leather chair aside. The chair legs made short, sharp creaking sounds as they scraped against the wooden floor.
"The one that just rolled off the assembly line at Arsenal No. 3."
The underground parking garage of Arsenal No. 3, behind Konoha.
The exhaust fan hummed, dispersing the pungent smell of engine oil in the air.
A steel monster lay silently on the concrete ground.
A super-heavy Chakra -hovered command vehicle, measuring twelve meters in length.
The outer shell is made of high-density manganese steel and coated with a layer of matte black paint.
It has no wheels. Six Chakra anti-gravity jets, each as thick as a water tank, are embedded on both sides of the chassis.
The armor was as thick as a vault door.
Two twin-mounted Chakra machine guns were mounted on the roof of the vehicle. The barrels gleamed with the cold light of cast iron and pointed straight ahead.
Shu Shiraishi walked over and reached out to open the car door.
The heavy steel door emitted a low hum from its hydraulic motor.
He got into the driver's seat. The leather seat was rather hard and didn't offer much support.
There were no guards, no Anbu following. The passenger seat was empty.
Press the red ignition switch in the center of the instrument panel with your right hand.
"Boom--"
The six nozzles under the vehicle simultaneously emitted a ghostly blue exhaust flame.
The 50-centimeter-thick steel plate on the ground instantly turned red-hot. The heat wave stirred up dust from the garage and swept wildly in all directions.
The massive vehicle smoothly lifted off the ground and hovered in mid-air.
It emitted a low, suppressed roar.
Shu Shiraishi gripped the cold, hard steering wheel and pressed the accelerator pedal.
The hovercar was like a wild beast unleashed from its cage.
"Clang!"
It smashed through the garage's sheet metal roller shutter door, tearing it to shreds.
The blue flames left a long trail. The steel behemoth, accompanied by a violent gust of air, crashed into the outer wind tunnel and hurtled northward.
The Land of Iron. The mountains are sealed off by heavy snow.
Large snowflakes, carried by the north wind, pelted the border outposts outside Three Wolves Mountain.
It's so cold that even spitting can freeze.
Two warriors, draped in thick raincoats, stood behind the wooden fence, their hands tucked into their sleeves, stamping their feet to keep warm.
"This awful weather."
A samurai sniffed through his bright red nose and exhaled a puff of white breath.
The samurai sword at his waist was wrapped in thick linen, as if afraid it would freeze and become brittle.
The Land of Iron has always upheld the ancient Bushido, and hasn't seen anything new or exciting for centuries.
On the horizon, the snow curtain suddenly became chaotic.
First came a low-frequency vibration that traveled along the frozen dirt road to the soles of my feet.
The samurai shuddered and was about to look up.
The deafening roar of the engine slammed directly into our eardrums.
The wind and snow were forcibly torn open by the violent air currents, creating a passage.
A black, steel behemoth hurtled towards us, skimming a meter off the ground.
The blue exhaust flames shooting from under the car instantly melted the snow on the ground.
White water vapor mixed with snowflakes, creating a long white dragon.
It moved so fast that the naked eye could only catch a glimpse of a dark shadow.
The samurai's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
He had never seen a metal box that could run without horses in his life.
He instinctively reached for the knife at his waist.
My gloves were frozen stiff. My fingers slipped on the handle of the knife but couldn't pull them out.
Another samurai mustered his courage and took a step forward, opening his mouth as if to shout something.
The hovercar didn't slow down at all.
The hundred-ton vehicle created a hurricane-like effect.
"Clang!"
The wooden guard post railing was blown away by the blast wave, breaking in two mid-air and crashing into a snowdrift in the distance.
The two samurai were blown off their feet by the wind pressure.
Both feet off the ground.
He fell flat on his backside in the snow, his raincoat scattered all over the ground.
The samurai sword, wrapped in burlap, slid out from his waist and fell into a snowdrift.
They didn't even have the strength to pick up the knife.
They could only stare, mouth agape, at the monster that spewed blue fire, roaring and crushing through the area.
They disappeared on the main road leading to the city.
My mind is filled with fear of the unknown forces.
The main city of the Land of Iron, the Five Kage Summit Building.
The huge circular conference room on the top floor.
The windows were tightly shut, with cotton strips used to seal the gaps, blocking out the wind and snow.
There were three charcoal braziers burning bright red in the room. The smokeless charcoal was glowing red, and the air was dry.
Three people were sitting around the round table.
Tsuchikage Ōnoki, Third Kazekage Third Mizukage.
The Raikage is absent because the acting Raikage, Tsuchida, was too frightened a few days Dodai, and the Land of Lightning has been entrusted with full authority by Ōnoki.
The round table was large, making it appear rather empty.
Ōnoki sat on a high-backed chair with two layers of soft cushions.
The bones in my lower back were broken by Konoha, and they still ache faintly, as if insects are gnawing at the gaps in my bones.
Fine beads of cold sweat trickled down his forehead. He didn't wipe them with a handkerchief.
Place both hands flat on the wooden table.
His left thumb was digging into the knuckle of his index finger so hard that the skin turned white.
The Third Kazekage's face turned deathly pale.
His internal injuries hadn't fully healed. He breathed very lightly, afraid that any sudden movements would aggravate the broken ribs in his chest.
His eyes were fixed on the texture of the table.
A cup of hot tea sat before the Third Mizukage.
The tea was not steaming.
He had been using a small amount of Water Release Chakra to forcibly cool the tea.
He used this to cover up the uncontrollable tremor in his right hand.
The surface of the water in the cup occasionally rippled with a very fine ring.
The three of them remained silent.
The only sound in the room was the occasional crackling of the charcoal fire.
Their gazes met briefly in the air.
They understood the ruthlessness and murderous intent in each other's eyes.
Under the wooden table. Beneath the heavy solid wood floor.
It was covered with tens of thousands of densely packed yellow Explosive Tag.
The fuses were all hidden in secret mechanisms within their grasp.
Downstairs, there were dozens of elite assassins from the Barrier Team waiting for orders.
The combined strangulation formation of Dust Release and Magnet Release had already been set up.
This is a dead end.
All the trump cards and remaining peak combat power of the Three Great Shinobi Villages are staked on this room.
Success or failure hinges on this.
Heavy footsteps suddenly came from outside the corridor.
"Clatter. Clatter."
The sound of military boots clicking on the wooden floor.
He moved at a leisurely pace, each step feeling like it was treading on the hearts of the three people in the room.
The Third Mizukage swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.
His right hand tightened abruptly, the teacup making a dry, scraping sound in his hand.
Ōnoki slowly pulled his hand down from the table.
It slid along the edge of the table and into the shadows beneath it.
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
The air seemed to freeze for a second. Even the red glow of the charcoal fire dimmed.
"Boom!"
The heavy, iron-clad mahogany doors let out a mournful groan, as if they could no longer bear the weight.
He was violently kicked away.
The hinges on the left door panel snapped off instantly. Half of the door frame, along with the hinges, crashed heavily into the room.
Wood chips flew around the conference room like bullets.
A few pieces of wood fell into the charcoal brazier, stirring up a patch of bright red sparks.
Shu Shiraishi stood at the door.
The black trench coat carried the scent of the wind and snow outside. The hem of the coat fluttered in the air.
Ōnoki quickly forced a smile onto his face.
The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were bunched up. His smile was fake and sickening.
Kazekage and Mizukage forced a smile, creating a friendly arc.
They leaned forward, making a welcoming gesture.
But the hands hidden beneath the heavy oak table.
It was flying rapidly and stealthily.
The ten fingers left afterimages.
Hand Seals.