"Everyone who's still breathing will be sent to labor camps!"
The lingering sound from the loudspeaker was shattered by the dry winds of the wilderness.
Hundreds of thousands of tons of steel tracks came to a stop turning.
The billowing black ash slowly fell from the sky, covering the pitted, scorched earth.
Several Uchiha Jōkan walked over carrying thick iron chains.
The iron rings collided, making a dull, clanging sound.
The leading officer stopped beside Ōnoki.
The old man's body was half-wrapped in cracked plaster, and he was still coughing up blood.
The officer bent down, and the iron ring went directly around Ōnoki's neck.
With a "click," it locked.
Ōnoki broke his back and lost all feeling in his lower body.
He reached for the iron chain around his neck with his withered hands. His fingernails split, and blood seeped into the rusty iron.
"On the trailer," the officer said, pointing to the heavy armored vehicle ahead.
The other end of the chain was tightly fastened to the tow hook at the rear of the vehicle.
The driver stepped on the accelerator.
The diesel engine emitted a dull roar, and a large plume of acrid black smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe.
The armored vehicle moved forward. The chains taut instantly.
Ōnoki was suddenly pulled forward and fell face-first into the scorched earth.
The car sped up.
He was dragged along like a sack of rotten potatoes across a wasteland strewn with pebbles.
The thick plaster shell rubbed violently against the stone.
White streaks were left behind. Lime powder fell down in a flurry.
The flesh rubbed against the sharp gravel, leaving a crooked red trail of blood.
Ōnoki couldn't let out a scream.
Only a wheezing sound came from his throat. His hands emptily clawed at the ground.
The Tsuchikage, who once dominated the Shinobi World.
It's now a piece of trash on the back of the car.
Iwagakure.
The ten-meter-high blast-proof gate was wide open. The hinges had long since broken.
There were no traps. There were no Explosive Tag.
The toughest of the stone ninja, their proudest absolute defense, shattered the moment the Ten Thousand-Person Earth Style Wall.
Armored tracks rolled over the bluestone slabs of the main road.
"Crack." The stone slab split into a spiderweb pattern.
Tens of thousands of Iwagakure Ninja lined up in long queues on both sides of the street.
No one spoke. Even coughs were suppressed.
The Uchiha Jōkan officer was carrying a black electronic collar.
The red light in the middle of the collar was flashing.
A Iwagakure Jonin as the Jōkan approached.
He flicked his wrist. The Kunai pouch at his waist loosened, and three Kunai fell to the ground.
The Jōkan didn't even glance at the Kunai.
Holding a three-inch-long silver needle in his hand, he circled behind the Jonin.
Thrust deep into the thickest meridian at the back of the neck.
"Puff."
The Jonin a muffled groan, his legs buckled, and he knelt on the ground.
The Chakra in his dantian deflated like a punctured balloon, completely dissipating.
"Look up," the Jōkan snapped.
The Jonin bit his tongue, his mouth filled with the taste of blood, and raised his neck.
The black electronic collar was fastened.
The electronic lock is stuck and emits a long "beep".
"Next." The Jōkan kicked aside the Kunai on the ground and walked towards the person behind him.
Large numbers of Shi Ren were herded to a makeshift train station outside the village.
A long, green military train was stopped on the tracks.
The carriages were completely enclosed metal boxes.
The door opened. The inside was pitch black, with a strong smell of rust.
The ninjas were pushed in like livestock.
A young Genin slipped and fell beside the railway tracks.
The electrified leather whip lashed his back, tearing his skin and causing bleeding.
He scrambled to his feet and crawled into the dark carriage.
The Daimyo of the Land of Earth. A nuclear-proof bunker fifty meters underground.
The three-meter-thick lead door was forcibly broken open by the mecha's hydraulic drill.
Sparks flew as molten lead dripped onto the ground.
A pungent, burnt metallic smell filled the bunker.
His great name was hidden in the pile of gold bricks in the corner.
The golden crown on his head was askew. His chubby face was covered in snot and tears.
A manganese steel mech drove in, its ruby-like eyes scanning back and forth.
The robotic arm extended and grabbed the magnificent silk collar of the mansion.
Like pulling up a radish, they lifted him from the gold bricks into the air.
His limbs flailing wildly, his fat jiggling uncontrollably.
My crotch was soaked. Yellowish liquid dripped from my trouser leg onto the floor.
He was so frightened that he forgot to beg for mercy.
The man was thrown into the back of a truck that was transporting slaves.
The carriage was covered with dry straw and filled with the stench of blood and excrement.
He fell heavily onto the hay, a splinter lodged in his hand.
Daming groaned as he got up.
The light was filtering through the crack in the door.
He saw a person lying in the corner.
The man had a tattered, yellowed plaster cast wrapped around his waist, his face was covered in blood, and his chin was covered in dried black mud.
The iron chain was still around his neck.
Ōnoki.
Da Ming was stunned. The fat on his face twitched twice.
Ōnoki laboriously rolled his eyes, looking at his usually aloof master.
His old eyes were completely gray. A drop of water mixed with blood slid from the corner of his eye into his white beard.
Daming slumped down onto the urine-soaked hay.
It's all over.
The Land of Earth, the most fortified stronghold in the entire Shinobi World.
It didn't even last a day. It was completely razed to the ground.
Top floor of the Tsuchikage Building.
The corridor walls had more than a dozen cracks. Half of the plaster ceiling had fallen off.
Shu Shiraishi stepped on the broken lime on the ground and walked into Tsuchikage's office.
The black trench coat swayed in the cold draft.
This room is ridiculously large. It's a complete mess now.
The huge rosewood desk had a crack in the middle.
The inkstone shattered by the door, its black ink staining half the wall.
The floor-to-ceiling windows are all gone. Cold air is blowing straight in.
Shu Shiraishi walked to the desk.
He pulled out the large, genuine leather chair. It was still damp with the cold sweat that Ōnoki had poured down his face.
He sat down and leaned back.
The chair back made a slight creaking sound.
He raised his legs.
Two black military boots were placed directly on the rosewood table.
Several pebbles and dark red dried blood were stuck in the sole of the boot.
Mud and water were smeared on a top-secret defense map of the Land of Earth, making a large area of the map dirty.
Tsuchikage's table. Now it's his footstool.
Shu Shiraishi pulled a pack of cigarettes from his trench coat pocket.
Take one out and bite it.
The brass lighter clicked to life. The flame veered slightly in the wind.
He took a deep drag. The cigarette butt glowed red.
A bluish-white plume of smoke billowed from his mouth and nose, leaving trails in the cold air.
The portable mobile terminal on the corner of the table suddenly emitted a short, sharp electronic tone.
"Drop."
The blue indicator light on the top of the terminal lit up. Beams of light intertwined in mid-air.
A faint hum of electricity could be heard in the air.
Orochimaru's virtual holographic projection slowly took shape above the desk.
The projection has a bit of blue static noise. The edges flicker occasionally.
Orochimaru was wearing a white lab coat. The dark circles under his eyes were so heavy they looked almost purple.
But he was in high spirits, his tongue rapidly licking his chapped lips.
" Lord Shu."
Orochimaru's voice came through a speaker, slightly distorted by electromagnetic distortion.
The virtual image bent over slightly.
Shu Shiraishi flicked his cigarette ash.
Ashes fell onto the rosewood, burning a small black spot.
"Breaking news. Just intercepted from a listening base station."
Orochimaru was holding a notepad.
" Land of Water, Kirigakure."
"They were terrified when they saw the fate of the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth."
Orochimaru let out a low, hoarse laugh, a laugh like sandpaper being polished.
" The Kirigakure sealed off all borders."
Orochimaru looked at the data on the record board.
"They have assembled all their warships and merchant ships at the port in the East China Sea."
" The Third Mizukage attempted to take the entire country, all the ninja and civilians..."
Orochimaru raised his head, his narrow eyes filled with mockery.
"Escape to the deep sea."
The office fell silent.
Only the cold wind howled outside the window.
Shu Shiraishi's fingers, which were holding a cigarette, stopped.
He looked at Orochimaru's blue projection in mid-air.
The military boots were taken off the table and slammed onto the floor with a "thud."
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the defensive map.
A chilling light gleamed in his dark eyes.
The sparks from the cigarette butt were reflected deep within his pupils.
Shu Shiraishi pressed the half-smoked cigarette onto the table and crushed it out forcefully.
Scattered tobacco leaves were trapped in the cracks of the table.
"Trying to run away?"
Shu Shiraishi's voice was very low, like a knife scraping against pig iron.
"Carrier battle group, deploy."
"Block the sea area!"