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

Iwagakure Village, temporary command post.

Hiruzen Sarutobi and Onoki received the battle report sent back by Sakumo via encrypted communication almost simultaneously.

After listening to Sakumo's calm and composed statement, the office fell into a long silence, almost so deep that you could hear the dust settling.

"You bastard!!"

Onoki slammed his fist on the table, causing the surface, polished from hard rock, to shatter. Spiderweb-like cracks spread outwards from his fist. His face was more ashen than the weathered rocks of Iwagakure, and a terrifying rage, completely disproportionate to his small stature, erupted from his short frame, his chest heaving violently.

"They're up to this underhanded stuff! And they even used biological weapons! These maggots hiding in the gutter!"

Hiruzen Sarutobi ignored the enraged Onoki, not even lifting an eyelid. He simply walked calmly to the huge map of the ninja world, his gaze moving back and forth across the borders of the Land of Grass, the Land of Rain, and even the more distant Land of Wind.

In his vision, a vast, shadowy network spanning several countries and hidden beneath the facade of peace in the ninja world is gradually becoming clearer due to this tear in one corner.

It is inciting war, spreading plague, and using every despicable means to try to overthrow the new order that their generation has worked so hard to establish.

After venting his anger, Onoki breathed heavily and noticed Hiruzen Sarutobi's unusually eerie calm. He frowned, dragged his heavy steps to the map, and looking into the other's unfathomable eyes, finally couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "What did you think of?"

Hiruzen Sarutobi finally looked away from the map, turned to look at Onoki, and a smile suddenly appeared on his face.

The smile was faint, like sunlight barely piercing through the clouds in winter, without any warmth, yet possessing an all-knowing composure and a cold sharpness.

"interesting."

He spoke softly, in a voice only the two of them could hear.

Onoki's eye twitched.

Interesting? The ninjas were almost wiped out, and the food base was facing a devastating threat, and this Hokage actually said it was interesting?

"These rats hiding in the sewers,"

Hiruzen Sarutobi tapped his fingers lightly on the map, making a soft, rhythmic sound, as if tolling a death knell for some unknown entity. "Finally, they've shown their tail."

"You mean..." Onoki wasn't stupid; he instantly grasped the deeper meaning in Hiruzen Sarutobi's words and his heart skipped a beat.

"You heard Sakumo's report,"

Hiruzen Sarutobi spoke in a flat tone, as if stating something insignificant: "The enemy deliberately lured Sakumo into making a move, using an altar as a price, just to confirm one thing—Konoha's White Fang is here."

He paused, then looked up at Onoki: "They're demonstrating against us, and they're also gathering intelligence. A base is something they can abandon at any time."

A layer of cold sweat seeped out from Onoki's back.

This kind of ruthlessness... this cold-blooded treatment of elite subordinates as expendable resources... is something no ordinary organization could accomplish. Behind this must lie a vast, tightly controlled, and clearly targeted terrifying entity.

"It seems our previous guess was correct."

Onoki's voice became a little hoarse, "Those who started the war and those who spread the plague are the same group of people."

"It seems their appetite goes far beyond this."

Hiruzen Sarutobi's gaze returned to the area on the map called the Silent Forest. "They don't want to see a well-fed Iwagakure, much less a Iwagakure that cooperates closely with Konoha. Peace and prosperity will cause the very soil they depend on for survival to disappear completely."

At this moment, Onoki, the Tsuchikage who had experienced three Shinobi World Wars, finally felt the suffocating pressure from a completely new enemy. This enemy was not interested in the gains or losses of a single city or battle; they wanted to corrupt the entire Shinobi World from its very foundation.

"So what should we do now?" Onoki asked another Kage for advice for the first time, almost as an equal. He realized that Iwagakure was no match for this conspiracy that was affecting the entire ninja world.

"Wait." Hiruzen Sarutobi only said one word.

"wait?"

Onoki almost lost his temper again.

"We await the follow-up investigation results from Sakumo and the others, and Orochimaru's analysis report."

Hiruzen Sarutobi turned around and patted Onoki on the shoulder. The force wasn't strong, but it made the veteran Kage's body sink slightly. "Let's wait for our enemies... to make more mistakes."

"Ohnoki,"

Hiruzen Sarutobi's eyes became incredibly serious. "From now on, the intelligence networks of Konoha and Iwagakure will need to be shared. All intelligence regarding border anomalies, suspicious individuals, and unknown diseases must be delivered to our desks immediately."

Looking at the unwavering resolve in Hiruzen Sarutobi's eyes, Onoki remained silent for a long time before finally nodding heavily.

At this moment, the will of rock and the will of fire were more closely bound together than ever before.

---

Two days later.

The Silent Forest, the ruins of that collapsed altar.

The cold moonlight, like mercury spilled onto the ground, coated the scorched, rotting earth with a deathly pale white.

The air was still filled with a nauseating stench of rotting flesh and sulfur.

Two figures appeared silently on the ruins.

One of them was none other than Retsumon, the Third Kazekage of Sunagakure.

He hovered in mid-air, his robes motionless in the night wind, his golden-brown pupils devoid of any sign of life, like two stagnant pools of water.

The other person landed on the ground beside him; he was a boy with short, choppy, dark burgundy hair.

He was thin and pale, like an exquisite doll. He was Sasori, the genius puppeteer of Sunagakure.

Scorpion's gaze swept over the ravaged battlefield, and his brows furrowed slightly.

He didn't care about the evil god cultists who were cut into pieces. In his eyes, those useless people who didn't even qualify to become puppet materials were not worth dying for.

What he really cared about were the knife marks left on the tree trunks, rocks, and even the ground.

Each slash was as smooth as a mirror, clean and crisp, as if it had not been made with a knife, but precisely drawn with a ruler and pen. What chilled him even more was that he could sense from these slashes a lingering, sharp will that had severed chakra and matter together.

"It's... Konoha's White Fang." Sasori's voice was hoarse and deep, like two pieces of sand rubbing together.

He slowly crouched down, extending his pale fingers to gently trace a deep, bone-revealing knife wound on the ground. As his fingertips touched the lingering scent, an overwhelming, deep-seated hatred made his fingertips tremble slightly.

This is the man who killed his parents.

"Yes, it's him."

The Third Kazekage, Retsumon, or rather, the Black Zetsu residing within him, spoke in an almost admiring tone, "Perfect swordsmanship, severing the flow of chakra, the fibers of muscles, and even the connections to the soul, which is why these followers cannot regenerate. Truly... an extraordinary skill."

Hearing his master's undisguised praise of their enemy, Scorpion's eyes darkened. He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.

"He's very strong."

Retsumon seemed oblivious to Sasori's emotional shift and continued speaking to himself, "He's even stronger than described in the intelligence. Sakumo has been spending too much time in the fields; we've almost forgotten that his fangs are still among the sharpest in the ninja world."

"Master..."

Scorpion finally couldn't help but speak, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly, "Why... should we avoid him?"

"Avoid?"

Liemen chuckled softly, the sound particularly jarring in the deathly silence of the night. "Scorpion, I'm not avoiding him, I'm protecting you."

He slowly landed beside the scorpion and gently placed his cold hand on the scorpion's head.

"Your eternal beauty is not yet complete; you are not yet his match. A perfect work of art should not be ruined prematurely by a small flaw before it is finished."

Scorpion's body stiffened for a moment. He raised his head and looked at his master's expressionless face.

There was no comfort or encouragement on that face, only a pure scrutiny of the artwork, but this miraculously calmed the hatred and resentment surging in Scorpion's heart.

Yes, Master is right.

I am a work of art, a masterpiece in pursuit of eternity.

Revenge should also be a perfect and impeccable act of art.

"I see."

Scorpion lowered his head, reverting to his doll-like, submissive demeanor.

"Very good." Liemen nodded in satisfaction.

He turned around, facing the center of the collapsed altar, and stretched out his palm.

"However, this outpost cannot be considered a complete failure. At least it collected valuable data for us."

As he moved, the black, solidified liquid on the ground seemed to come alive, beginning to converge towards his palm. Countless tiny black iron filings emerged from the ground, enveloping, compressing, and purifying the liquid.