Toroi's left foot landed on a knot on the bamboo plank.
The bamboo was slippery with dew.
"Slurp."
His foot slipped, and his body suddenly tilted to the right.
Two hundred pounds of cement weighed down his shoulders, causing him to fall straight into the thirty-meter-deep reinforced concrete foundation.
Toroi broke out in a cold sweat.
He gritted his teeth. His left foot gripped the edge of the bamboo so tightly that his toes almost dug into the bamboo.
A dull "crack" sound came from his lower back.
He forcefully pulled his weight back.
Before he could even catch his breath...
"Smack!"
A leather whip lashed hard across his back.
The leather whip whistled through the air as it tore open his tattered burlap sack-made vest.
A two-finger-wide bloodstain was left on his rough, dark skin.
Toroi gasped in pain. He bit down hard on his cheek and tasted a metallic sweetness.
He lowered his body by half a head, and the cement bag on his shoulder almost slipped off.
He quickly gripped the kraft paper packaging bag tightly with his blistered hands.
The rough paper scratched the blisters on my palm. It hurt terribly. Yellow fluid mixed with blood flowed out.
"Playing dead? Get out of here!"
A Uchiha Genin a red armband stood at the end of the scaffolding.
He held a blood-dripping leather whip in his hand and a bamboo skewer in his mouth, urging impatiently.
Toroi didn't dare to look up.
He moved like a rusty mechanical spring, slowly and deliberately making his way up the last few meters of the springboard.
They threw two bags of cement into a tin handcart next to the foundation.
It kicked up a cloud of choking, grayish-white dust.
The lives of Kumogakure Village prisoners of war were worse than those of rats in the Konoha sewers.
Work starts at 5 a. m. and ends at 11 p. m.
It took a full eighteen hours to clean the ash.
There were no breaks. There were no shift changes.
When thirsty, one can only drink a few sips of the murky well water next to it, which is covered with green moss.
These muscular men, who used to roam freely in the Land of Lightning, have all become emaciated in just half a month.
Sunken cheeks and protruding bones.
His dark skin was covered in grayish-white cement clumps that he couldn't wash off.
Toroi pushed the empty cart back.
My legs felt like they were filled with lead. My knees ached and felt dry whenever I moved them.
He was too exhausted to walk any further.
He looked at the piles of rebar not far away.
He's a master of Magnet Release from Kumogakure.
With just a tiny bit of Magnet Release Chakra, the steel bars can be attracted to the bottom of the handcart. Using the magnetic repulsion, the subway car will be significantly lighter.
Toroi took a deep breath.
He swallowed hard, forcing out a Chakra from his withered meridians.
Grip the handlebars with both hands. Slightly move your thumbs, preparing to form a single-hand mudra.
Chakra has just begun to emerge.
The black iron collar around his neck suddenly emitted a blinding blue light from the dark array patterns on its inner side.
"Sizzle!"
A high-voltage current pierced directly through his cervical spine.
Toroi froze instantly.
His eyes rolled back instantly. He fell straight backward.
His head slammed heavily into the muddy puddle, splashing up a pool of black water.
His limbs convulsed wildly as if he were having an epileptic seizure.
An electric current coursed through the flesh. A pungent, burnt smell filled the air.
Toroi's mouth gaped open. Thick white foam mixed with saliva dripped down the corners of his mouth.
His teeth chipped the tip of his tongue, and blood and foam mingled together, covering his chin.
The two Kumogakure prisoners pushing the cart nearby were so frightened that they quickly moved away.
The cart crashed into the pile of steel bars with a loud clang.
The Uchiha Genin Earth Flow leisurely.
The leather boot kicked Toroi's twitching thigh. It wasn't hard; it just flicked it away disdainfully.
"Another one asking for electricity. How many is this this month?"
The Genin spat out the bamboo skewer from his mouth.
Get up! If you stay lying down, I'll send you to the No. 3 blast furnace to be burned as firewood.
Toroi lay in the mud for a full five minutes.
The aftershocks of the electric current subsided. He gasped for breath, a cracking bellows sound coming from his throat.
He used his trembling hands to push himself up from the ground and struggled to his feet.
My knee scraped against the gravel, drawing blood.
He gripped the handlebars of the handcart, panting heavily.
I will never dare to have the slightest wicked thought again.
He turned his head and looked at the other side of the construction site.
He originally thought that Konoha was torturing Kumogakure like this because they were treating them as cheap slaves.
He was wrong.
Three hundred meters away. The skeleton area of Factory Building No. 1.
Three fat members of the Akimichi Clan used Multi-Size Technique, transforming into giant flesh mountains over ten meters tall.
He was carrying an H-beam weighing over ten tons, running through the mud.
The fat men were sweating profusely.
His thin shirt was soaked through, clinging tightly to his fleshy body. The steam rising from it billowed upwards like a chimney.
A fat man slowed down by two steps. He swayed, and the steel beam hit the ground headfirst.
"Smack!"
A Uchiha wearing a red armband Jonin out with a long whip imbued with Chakra.
It struck the Akimichi giant's shin hard.
It left a half-meter-long gash.
"Aren't you full?! If the steel beam is crooked, I'll kill you!" the Jonin cursed.
The fat Akimichi was trembling all over in pain.
He dared not argue. With his free hand, he reached into his waist and pulled out two dry, hardened Military Rations Pill.
He stuffed it haphazardly into his mouth and swallowed it without even chewing it.
With renewed effort, he hoisted the steel beam onto his shoulder and continued sprinting across the construction site.
The ground rumbled loudly as people trodden on it.
Toroi was stunned.
His hand, which was pushing the cart, froze in mid-air. The white foam from his mouth dried on his chin.
This is the Akimichi Clan in Konoha. Those who are whipping people are from the Uchiha Clan.
Konoha is so ruthless to its own people.
They treat the village's elite soldiers like livestock, completely disregarding human beings.
These lunatics are even exploiting their own people. What chance do the Kumogakure prisoners of war have?
He looked around.
Towering red brick chimneys. Huge Chakra water towers. Dense factory building framework.
The nascent form of a cold, heavy industrial city is being forcibly erected from the ground amidst the blood and sweat of these slaves and Konoha Ninja.
There is no warmth here. There is no honor here.
All that's left is the roar of machinery and endless heavy manual labor.
Do the Kumogakure prisoners of war want to resist or wait to die?
In front of this enormous steel monster, not even a bubble could escape.
Toroi lowered his head.
Pushing the iron cart, he Earth Flow the next pile of cement.
It's 11 p. m.
The gong signaled the end of the workday. The broken sound of the gong echoed across the construction site.
The prisoner-of-war work shed in the south.
This is a row of wooden houses that are drafty on all four sides. Cold winds are whistling through the gaps.
Toroi lay sprawled on a wooden plank covered with rotten straw.
The straw was damp and moldy, emitting a strange smell of rat urine.
He didn't even have the strength to take off his dirty clothes.
His muscles felt like they'd been smashed and reassembled by a sledgehammer. The soreness made him toss and turn on the haystack, no matter how he lay down, it didn't feel right.
My stomach rumbled loudly.
That bowl of porridge with sand in it last night was long gone.
He stared at the drafty wooden roof. It was pitch black.
A former elite Jonin who dominated the battlefield, and a distinguished guest at the Daimyo's banquet.
Toroi's eyes stung with tears.
Two streams of hot tears slid down his cheeks, which were covered in dried ash and blood.
It crashed onto the rotten straw.
Humiliation. Despair. He bit down hard on the tattered corner of the quilt, afraid to cry out.
On the other side.
The Hokage Building, the center of Konoha.
It was midnight. The lights were still on in the third-floor office.
The incandescent light bulb on the table flickered twice.
It emitted a buzzing sound like electricity. The light dimmed by half, and then returned to brightness after two seconds.
Unstable voltage.
Shu Shiraishi sat behind a large mahogany desk.
He was wearing a black turtleneck short-sleeved shirt. He held half a cigarette between his left fingers and opened a thick document with his right.
Electricity consumption report for the entire village.
The red lettering above is alarming.
Electricity consumption at Arsenal No. 1 surged. Steel Plant No. 2 was fully connected to the grid.
Orochimaru's second phase mecha project test site. It consumes electricity like water every day.
Electric lighting grids have even begun to be laid in civilian areas.
Every single one is consuming electricity like crazy.
Shu Shiraishi put the cigarette in his mouth and took a deep drag.
He exhaled a puff of grayish-white smoke. The smoke hit the lampshade and dispersed.
He tossed the report onto the table; the pages rustled crisply.
He frowned and tapped his fingers twice on the table.
"Tap. Tap."
"Capacity expansion was too rapid."
Shu Shiraishi looked up at the light bulb flickering on and off by the wall.
" Raikage's massive battery and generator set can't hold up anymore."