Naruto: Starting as the Third Hokage with Tears in His Eyes

He eats very slowly, taking tiny sips—yes. That's how an orphan who has been starving for a long time would eat.

The training was clumsy but earnest—yes. That's what a wild child without formal education would do.

Overly grateful for kindness—yes. Someone who has never been treated kindly would do that.

Practicing Fire Release only allows you to spew out sparks the size of a fist—that's right. Mediocre individuals with insufficient chakra will experience this.

Seeing a prosperous village will inspire heartfelt admiration, and being accepted by the tribe will move one to tears of gratitude.

All the reactions were logical, and each one, taken individually, was flawless.

When pieced together, it still fits perfectly.

Deer Antlers stared at the ink stain on the table, his lips moving slightly.

That's the problem.

An orphan who lived in a place like the Land of Wind until his teens, travels alone across the desert to Konoha.

They were not robbed by bandits, bitten by wild animals, contracted diseases, or picked up habits of gambling, stealing, or cheating along the way.

After arriving in Konoha, he neither stole nor caused trouble; he was well-behaved and obedient, just like a top student who had just graduated from the Ninja Academy.

A child who emerged from the desert of the Land of Wind.

It was as clean as a blank sheet of paper.

His father taught him a phrase when he was six years old, next to the chessboard.

A good game is one where all the pieces are exactly where they belong, and every move is played flawlessly.

That's called layout.

The deer closed its eyes.

Then it opened its eyes again.

He reached out and picked up the internal communicator on the corner of the table.

This thing is a new device that Orochimaru's Team Zero installed three months ago. He doesn't care about understanding how it works; as long as the other side can hear it when the button is pressed, that's enough.

He pressed the button labeled "Xin".

"Anbu, Xin."

"exist."

The sound coming from the communicator was dry and without any extra syllables.

Deer Horn had dealt with this ANBU member many times, and the other party never spoke more than ten words.

That's good. It saves trouble.

"I have a task for you."

Lu Jiao lowered his voice. The office door was closed, and the corridor outside was guarded by secret police officers. In theory, no one would be eavesdropping.

However, he still kept the volume within the range that the communicator could transmit.

"Wind Country, Red Sand Town, a border town. Check detailed information on all missing and deceased persons in the last six months. Household registration records, death reports, neighborhood testimonies—get as much as you can."

"Yes."

"Don't alert anyone."

The antlers unconsciously stroked the communicator's casing. "Especially the people from Sunagakure. When you pass through their patrol area, go around them."

"clear."

Communication is interrupted.

The office fell silent again.

The tram bell rang again outside the window; it must be the last tram. The sound drifted from afar, tinkling and ringing, mingling with the increasingly cool evening breeze.

The antlers pressed against the back of the chair, and the back of its head hit the top of the chair with a dull thud.

He stared at the ceiling.

There's a small crack in the ceiling, stretching from the light fixture to the corner of the wall. He doesn't know when it appeared. He can see it every time he looks up, but he's never submitted a repair request.

—If I write it down, it will just be another document.

He turned his gaze away from the crack and onto the report on the table.

Perhaps he's overthinking it.

What problems could a boy with mediocre chakra, who can only hit three out of ten shuriken shots and whose fire jutsu can only produce sparks?

It couldn't possibly be a spy planted by some major power; what spy would be that stupid?

but.

Deer Antlers picked up the report, opened the drawer, and pressed it to the bottom.

Then he pulled a pancake out of the drawer—it was the one Lu Jiu had forced on him that morning, saying, "Dad, eat this before you scold me." The pancake was completely cold, and the edges were so hard they could be used as a shuriken.

He took a bite.

I chewed it twice and almost broke a tooth.

Muttering curses under his breath, he stuffed the pancake back into the drawer.

Reaching towards the top of the mountain of documents beside him, he pulled out the next report.

The cover features Danzo's shockingly ugly calligraphy:

"Konoha Third Phase Infrastructure Expansion Plan - Supplementary Budget Request (Seventh Revised Edition)".

The seventh revised edition.

The deer antlers stared intently at the line of text for three seconds.

Then, slowly, word by word, he squeezed out a sentence from between his teeth:

"Hiruzen... I hate him."

The setting sun outside the window sank even deeper, casting long shadows in the Hokage's office.

The dark coat draped over the back of the chair hung there quietly, just like its owner, indifferent to everything.