Bang!
A withered palm slammed down on the mahogany table.
The sound exploded through the enclosed conference room, piercingly loud.
The table shook. The remaining tea sloshed out of the half-shattered coarse porcelain mug in front of Hiruzen Sarutobi, leaving a wet patch on the tabletop.
The air seemed to have been sucked out of the room.
Gasps rose from both sides of the long table.
Akimichi Chōza let out a loud hiccup in fright. He hurriedly clamped a thick palm over his mouth, his tiny eyes darting around in terror.
Uchiha Retsu's hand jerked on his thigh. The metal plate on his bracer scraped against his wooden chair with a muffled sound.
Everyone sucked in a breath.
Even Hiruzen froze. He did not dare reach up to wipe away the tea running down his neck.
No one had expected that, on a morning when the floor was covered in the Shimura Clan's blood, someone would actually dare stand up and openly defy him.
Shu Shiraishi sat at the head of the table.
He did not get angry. He did not slam the table.
He merely set down the parchment scroll in his hand. It landed on the table with a soft sound.
Shu braced both hands against the edge of the table and pushed his heavy leather high-backed chair back.
The chair legs carved two shallow grooves in the carpet.
He slowly rose to his full height.
On the right side of the long table, Utatane Koharu stood.
She was breathing hard, her chest heaving. Half of her once-neat bun had come loose, and several gray-white hairs clung to her sweaty forehead.
The right hand she had slammed on the table was still trembling slightly. A large patch along the edge of her palm was red.
But she did not back down.
She was a senior advisor of Konoha, an aide personally appointed by Second Hokage Tobirama Senju.
Even during the First Hokage's rule, she had been entitled to argue loudly at meetings.
Her seniority was her greatest source of confidence.
"What are you looking at?!"
Koharu met Shu's gaze, her voice as shrill as a rusty saw scraping against glass.
"When I was helping Lord First build this village, you were still in diapers!"
She pointed at Shu's nose, spittle flying.
"Confiscate clan assets? Hand over secret technique scrolls? Do you think Konoha is your own personal backyard?!"
Hiruzen blinked frantically on the left side of the long table.
His right foot, hidden beneath the table, kicked hard at the side of Koharu's shoe.
He wanted her to shut up.
Koharu ignored him completely. She kicked his foot away.
She thought Shu would not dare touch her.
Danzo had attempted an assassination and deserved to die. But she was simply voicing her opposition at a meeting. That was her political right.
"Konoha was pieced together by the various ninja clans!"
Koharu grew louder as she spoke, her voice cracking.
"Without the taxes our major clans pay every year, without the people and effort we contribute, you'd be a Hokage with no one to command!"
"You think you can rule the village by killing people? You think the daimyō will stand by and let you do whatever you want?"
She planted her hands on her hips and raised her chin high.
"We will never accept this reform plan. If you've got the guts, kill every clan head sitting here!"
The conference room fell deathly silent.
Hyūga Tensō closed his eyes, cold sweat covering his forehead.
Uchiha Retsu stared fixedly at the tabletop, barely breathing.
No one responded to Koharu. No one wanted to go down with her at a time like this.
Shu stood in front of the head seat.
He heard her out.
He did not argue. He offered no lengthy rebuttal. He did not explain why the reforms were necessary.
He raised his right hand and adjusted the collar of his black short-sleeved shirt.
Then.
Shu vanished.
It was not the Body Flicker Technique. There was no sign of Chakra movement.
It was sheer, terrifying explosive physical power.
The wool fibers of the carpet had not even had time to fall flat.
Boom!
Only a ring of exploding air ripples remained where he had stood.
The gust swept a painting off the wall behind the head seat, and it crashed to the floor.
No one's eyes could follow him.
All they saw was a blur.
The next second.
Shu had already appeared to Utatane Koharu's left.
Less than half a meter separated them.
Shu's right hand was already raised.
The last words of Koharu's "kill us all" were still echoing through the conference room.
She had not even seen how Shu got there.
All she noticed was that the light to her left had dimmed.
A suffocating pressure came crashing down over her head like an iron mountain.
Shu's face was expressionless.
His raised right hand came down in a vicious slap, shrieking as it tore through the air.
Slap!!!
A tremendous crack rang out.
It was as loud as an Explosive Tag going off in the conference room.
Several teacups on the long table cracked from the shock.
Shu's palm struck Utatane Koharu squarely across the left side of her face.
The instant his palm made contact, Koharu's wrinkled face visibly twisted in a bizarre contortion.
The cheekbone on the left side of her face caved straight in.
Crack.
A crisp sound of breaking bone.
Koharu's cervical spine gave a scream, and her head jerked sharply to the right at an unnatural angle.
The immense force instantly traveled through her entire body.
Koharu's feet left the ground.
Before she could even scream, she flew sideways like a kite with its string cut.
She was too fast.
A trail of red droplets scattered through the air.
She flew past the end of the long table and knocked over the heavy solid-wood spare chair behind it.
The chair shattered in midair, sending splinters flying.
Her momentum did not diminish.
Boom!
A deafening crash rang out.
Utatane Koharu slammed bodily into the load-bearing wall on the right side of the conference room.
The hard brick-and-stone wall caved in instantly.
Weblike cracks spread wildly outward from her.
Large chunks of plaster and broken brick clattered down. They struck the floor, raising a cloud of white dust.
The conference room fell deathly silent.
Only the soft patter of crumbling bricks could be heard.
The people on both sides of the long table were all dumbstruck.
Uchiha Retsu instinctively touched his left cheek, his Adam's apple bobbing with a difficult swallow.
Akimichi Chōza forcibly held back the hiccup from before, his fat face turning the color of pig liver.
Hiruzen gripped the arms of his chair so tightly that his nails dug into the wood. His eyes were wide as he stared at the huge crater in the wall.
The dust slowly settled.
On the wall.
Most of Utatane Koharu's body was embedded between the bricks. Her legs hung in the air, her toes twitching involuntarily.
The left side of her face was completely deformed, swollen like a rotten, purplish-black peach.
Her eyes had rolled back.
"Wah-"
A wheezing gasp came from Koharu's throat, like a broken bellows.
She suddenly spat out a great mouthful of thick, dark blood.
It ran down the wall and soaked into the carpet.
In the pool of blood she had spat out.
Seven or eight bloody teeth were mixed in, some yellowish-brown natural teeth and others gold-rimmed dentures.
The teeth struck the floor with an unnerving clatter.
Shu stood where Koharu had been standing.
He slowly lowered his right hand.
A little foundation and a few streaks of blood clung to his knuckles.
He took a handkerchief from his trouser pocket.
He did not look at Koharu, embedded in the wall.
Shu lowered his head and carefully wiped the blood from between his fingers.
His movements were slow and casual.
"Old hag."
Shu casually tossed the dirty handkerchief away. It fluttered down onto the long table.
"I gave you too much face."
He slowly turned around.
His gaze swept over the rows of faces on either side of the long table, all drained of color with fright.
The faint, secret hope these people had felt when Koharu spoke up, their faint illusions about traditional rules.
All of it had been slapped to nothing with that single blow.
Shu walked over to the head seat.
He planted both hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward.
A sense of pressure spread across the tabletop and bore down on everyone's chest.
"Have you all gotten one thing wrong?"
Shu's voice was steady. There was no anger, no roar.
It was as cold as a stone in an ice cellar.
"I'm not sitting here to reason with you."
He tapped the parchment scroll.
"In this room."
Shu looked at Hiruzen.
"What I say."
He looked at Uchiha Retsu.
"Is law."
Dead silence.
No one dared gasp.
Even breathing had become a luxury. Hyūga Tensō's face had turned bright red from holding his breath, but he still did not dare breathe out.
Over by the wall, Koharu spat out another mouthful of blood and lost consciousness completely. Her head lolled limply against her chest.
Mitokado Homura sat to the right of Koharu's place.
When Koharu flew past him, the sole of her shoe had grazed his arm.
Now his entire body was trembling.
Homura's gaunt face was pale as paper, utterly bloodless.
His round-framed glasses had slipped down to the tip of his nose, but he could not spare the attention to push them back up.
He was closest to the wall.
The bloody smell from Koharu's mouth, mingled with the earthy smell of dust, went straight up his nostrils.
His companion of decades. The Second Hokage's strategist.
He had been swatted into the wall like a fly, his fate unknown.
Homura's teeth chattered.
Both legs shook like sieves inside his loose trouser legs.
He was afraid. He was scared to death. He feared that the next second, Shu Shiraishi's palm would come down across his face.
But.
Decades of political habit. That deeply ingrained defense of Konoha's traditional system.
That fellow feeling at seeing his old partner beaten and gravely wounded.
At that moment, they strangely overwhelmed his reason.
Homura's head buzzed as blood rushed to it.
He gripped the edge of the table with both hands and sprang to his feet.
His legs knocked the chair backward, sending it sliding with a piercing scrape.
"Screech-"
In the silent conference room, the sound was like a death curse.
Hiruzen whipped his head toward Homura, desperately signaling him with his eyes.
Homura didn't look at Hiruzen.
He held out his right hand.
His withered fingers trembled violently, like leaves in an autumn wind.
He pointed at Shu Shiraishi.
Homura swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed sharply.
"You... you..."
His voice cracked completely, shrill and wavering like a rooster with its neck pinned underfoot.
"How dare you treat an adviser this way!"
Homura's voice broke as he shouted.
The moment the words left his mouth, he shuddered. His legs gave way, and he nearly fell back into his chair.
Shu Shiraishi's hand remained planted on the table.
He stopped tapping the scroll.
The temperature in the conference room instantly dropped another ten degrees.
Shu Shiraishi said nothing.
He slowly turned his head.
Those death god-like eyes traveled across the long mahogany table.
And instantly locked onto Mitokado Homura's deathly pale face.