#3

Mufasa sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"It seems like you have some deep resentment toward me."

Rasa scoffed. "Hmph."

Mufasa leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "Believe it or not, I do care about the Sand Village. If it weren't for this village taking me in—if Karura hadn't helped me—I would've been just another nameless corpse buried in the desert."

Rasa's expression darkened. "And yet, you sit back and watch while the village struggles? That's how you show gratitude?"

Mufasa didn't flinch. "I never stood idly by. When I was weak, I chose to build. Now that I have strength, it's time to act."

Rasa narrowed his eyes. "Time for what, exactly?"

A small smirk tugged at Mufasa's lips. "I found oil in the desert."

Rasa's eyes flickered with mild interest, but he remained skeptical.

Mufasa had talked about oil before—about an entire industry that could transform the village. He spoke of things like textile manufacturing, transportation, agriculture, and countless other advancements that seemed like little more than fantasy.

Years ago, he had convinced others to help search for this so-called "liquid gold," only for their efforts to come up empty. Eventually, the village had dismissed his ideas, and Mufasa had been left to dig on his own.

Rasa crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Then congratulations."

Mufasa sighed. "You don't seem happy. You should be. This discovery could change everything for the village. With oil, we can build infrastructure, create industries, and usher in an era of prosperity."

Rasa scoffed. "Prosperity? Development? What problems does that solve? The ninja world is built on strength. Military power dictates survival."

He leaned forward, his voice laced with sarcasm. "If you had found a Tailed Beast, or a mountain of gold, then maybe I'd be impressed. But oil? According to your own claims, we'd still have to build factories, refineries, and whatever else you keep rambling about. How long do you think the village can wait?"

Mufasa shook his head, unbothered by Rasa's skepticism. "Rasa, real power comes from progress. Industry, technology, productivity—those are the keys to the Sand Village's future."

His tone turned firm. "I need your cooperation. Let's work together and make this village stronger than ever."

Rasa let out a sharp breath, his patience wearing thin. "I don't have time for your nonsense. Leave."

But Mufasa stood his ground. "You don't have to believe me. But at least believe in science."

Rasa let out a dry laugh. "Science? What good is that? Can it make a ninja stronger? Can it win wars?"

"Of course," Mufasa said without hesitation. He gestured to himself. "I am living proof."

Rasa clenched his jaw, his irritation mounting. Mufasa's words sounded absurd.

His very existence defied logic—an average ninja, barely skilled enough to graduate, who spent three years working in a village factory, only to emerge with power rivaling the Kazekage himself. If anything, Mufasa was the most unscientific thing Rasa had ever seen.

Rasa folded his arms, his expression cold. "You expect me to believe that nonsense? Where did you really get your power from?"

Mufasa remained unfazed. "Electromagnetism is a natural phenomenon. When charged particles fluctuate, they create magnetic fields, which in turn generate electromagnetic waves. Magnet Release is simply an application of Wind and Lightning chakra, simulating these charge fluctuations."

Rasa frowned. "Don't try to fool me. You're clearly an exiled bloodline from the Third Kazekage's lineage."

Ever since Mufasa mastered both Wind and Lightning Release and developed his own Magnet Release through scientific understanding, the village had assumed he was a descendant of the Third Kazekage—someone who had inherited the bloodline limit rather than discovered a new technique.

Mufasa had tried to correct them at first, but after a while, he gave up. If people refused to understand science, that was their problem.

"Forget it," Mufasa said with a sigh. "I'm not here to argue about genetics. Are you going to cooperate with me or not?"

Rasa narrowed his eyes. "Cooperate on what, exactly?"

Mufasa pulled a scroll from his robe and unrolled it across Rasa's desk. "I have ten million ryo in starting capital. I'm launching an oil industry—exploration, refining, and production. The first step is automobiles. We'll use them as the foundation to kickstart other industries."

Rasa barely glanced at the scroll, his expression unreadable.

"I need to build an industrial zone near the village," Mufasa continued. "It'll create jobs—lots of them. That means I'll need a workforce, and that's where you come in."

Rasa's fingers drummed against the desk, his mind racing. The village's public funds were barely scraping a million ryo. And yet, Mufasa had ten times that amount… all for some absurd oil venture.

If not for the fact that Mufasa was stronger than him, Rasa might have already ordered his assassination.

A slow smirk spread across Rasa's face. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to assign villagers to your little project?"

Mufasa shook his head. "Not assign—hire. I'll pay them wages. Once the industry takes off, everyone in the village will have stable jobs and a steady income."

Rasa scoffed. "Hiring the entire village? What's next? Are you planning to overthrow me too?"

Mufasa blinked. Then, his eyes darkened.

"You think I have some political agenda?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm. "I made a promise to Karura—to protect this village and help it prosper." His gaze sharpened. "And as for your position as Kazekage? If I wanted it…"

He snapped his fingers. "It would be mine in an instant."

Rasa's blood boiled. His teeth clenched. This arrogant fool wasn't even trying to hide his contempt.

"Then go ahead," Rasa snapped. "Become Kazekage first, and then you can build all the factories you want. But as long as I hold this title, no one in this village will work for you."

Mufasa lifted his right hand, pointing a single finger at Rasa. A faint electrical current flickered at his fingertip.

His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Do you really think I wouldn't kill you?"

Rasa tensed up as Mufasa strode toward him, his aura sharp and filled with killing intent.

Beneath his veil, Rasa's expression hardened. His fists clenched at his sides, his breath steady but heavy. His face paled slightly.

He knew exactly what kind of person Mufasa was.

Despite his easygoing demeanor and merchant-like charm, Mufasa was ruthless when it came down to it. His smile masked the instincts of a predator.

Even Rasa, who had witnessed countless deaths on the battlefield, still felt a chill when he recalled the gruesome fate of the ninja who had dared to invade their village three years ago. That alone was proof enough of Mufasa's cruelty.

Rasa squared his shoulders, keeping his voice firm. "Then go ahead… try me." He couldn't afford to show weakness—not as the Kazekage.

Mufasa smirked. "No need to be so tense. If I really wanted to, you'd already be dead."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I'll make you agree to this willingly."

Rasa scoffed. "Impossible. I will never agree."

Mufasa's smirk deepened. "Your village is in financial ruin, and you know it. The way things are going, you'll barely be able to sustain yourselves, let alone keep up with the other nations."

Rasa exhaled sharply through his nose. "You're just stating the obvious."

Mufasa continued, "I have a scientific way to turn the village's finances around in no time. If I succeed, I expect your full cooperation."

Rasa narrowed his eyes. "You're not talking about handing over my gold dust, are you? Is that what you consider 'scientific'?"

Mufasa shook his head with exaggerated amusement. "No, no. I have something better in mind."

Rasa remained skeptical. "We'll talk if you actually pull it off."

Mufasa's expression darkened slightly. "Oh, I will. And when I do, I expect you to keep your end of the deal." His eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "If you refuse… well, let's just say I wouldn't mind stepping in as Kazekage myself."

Rasa's hands clenched into fists. After I deal with Konoha, I'll settle things with you.

Mufasa turned toward the door but then stopped abruptly. "Oh, right."

Rasa stiffened. "What now?"

Mufasa glanced back at him, his gaze cold. "I'll be leaving the village for a while. In the meantime, I suggest you don't make any moves against Gaara. He's a person, not a weapon."

His voice dropped lower. "If I come back and find out you've ignored my warning… we're going to have a problem."

Rasa remained silent, but his knuckles turned white.

Night fell over the Hidden Sand Village, bringing with it a sharp drop in temperature. The once scorching desert air turned frigid, and the streets were nearly empty.

On the rooftop of a building, Gaara sat alone, staring at the moon. The large gourd on his back cast a long shadow over the roof.

A soft whoosh broke the silence as Mufasa appeared beside him.

"Still awake?" Mufasa asked, hands in his pockets. "Is Shukaku keeping you up again?"

Gaara barely moved. "No. I'm just used to it."

For years, he had suffered from relentless insomnia, plagued by the constant voice of the One-Tailed Beast in his head. That was, until Mufasa had dealt with Shukaku himself, 'persuading' the beast to behave.

"I'll get along with Gaara, just don't hit me anymore," Shukaku had whined after the encounter.

Mufasa had left it at that.

Gaara's gaze didn't waver from the moon. "Sensei, is the oil you mentioned really going to help?"

Mufasa grinned. "Of course. If we handle it right, the Hidden Sand Village could become the richest and strongest village in the entire ninja world."

Gaara didn't react. His face remained unreadable.

Mufasa studied him. "You don't seem too interested."

Gaara had no real attachment to the village or its people. He had been treated as a monster for as long as he could remember. Even his own uncle, the person he had loved most, had tried to kill him. From that moment on, he had shut himself off from the world.

But Mufasa… Mufasa had been different. The only one who had shown him kindness.

"If it's what you want, I'll support it," Gaara finally said.

Mufasa ruffled Gaara's hair lightly. "At least you have a goal now. As you meet more people, you might find new ones."

He stretched and turned to leave. "I'll be heading out of the village for a bit. The Chunin Exams are in two months. Make sure you keep training."

Gaara nodded. "I will."

Half a Month Later – The Land of Waves

On the unfinished cross-sea bridge, a tense standoff had begun.

The ruthless merchant Gato stood at one end, flanked by a large group of hired muscle, blocking the way forward.

Meanwhile, the battle between Team Seven and Momochi Zabuza was reaching its climax.

Sasuke lay unmoving on the cold bridge.

Sakura clung to his unmoving body, her sobs echoing through the misty air. Tears streamed down her face as she buried herself against his chest, desperately hoping for a heartbeat that would never come.

Naruto stood frozen, his hands trembling at his sides. His chest felt tight, his breath shaky. Is Sasuke… gone? The thought was unbearable.

Meanwhile, Kakashi and Zabuza clashed, their movements slowing. Both men were exhausted, their bodies barely holding up. Kakashi's chakra was nearly drained, while Zabuza, bloodied and battered, could hardly lift his blade. If he couldn't swing his sword, he was as good as useless.

Then, all eyes turned to the bridge's edge.

Gato strutted forward, a sly grin twisting his face. His smugness was sickening.

"Perfect. Just as I planned," he sneered.

As he passed Haku's lifeless body, he cruelly kicked it aside like trash. The casual disrespect made Naruto's blood boil. Even Kakashi's usually calm eyes darkened.

Gato smirked, flexing his fingers. "You ninja are worthless now. Let's just finish this and be done with it. I'll take over the Land of Waves and make a fortune."

Naruto clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms. Tears stung his eyes, but not from sadness—this was rage.

Zabuza, still on his knees, his arms limp and useless, turned toward Naruto. His voice was rough, strained. "Give me… a kunai."

Naruto's eyes widened.

"Even if I have no hands," Zabuza growled, baring his teeth, "I'll bite that bastard's throat out myself."

Then—

A shadow streaked across the sky.

Wind roared through the bridge as something—or someone—descended at an alarming speed.

CLANG.

Every kunai, every sword in the area trembled violently, ringing from the force of the sudden arrival. Even the steel bridge itself seemed to shake under the impact.

A blinding flash of light cut through the mist.

And then—he was there.

Between Gato and Zabuza now stood a lone figure. He wore a Sand Village headband, his hair partially concealed beneath a strip of white cloth. His expression was calm, almost friendly, but the air around him crackled with power.

Kakashi's single eye widened. Recognition flickered across his face as he dug through his memory, recalling the reports from the Hidden Sand.

His breath hitched.

"You… You're the one they call the Unscientific Ninja of the Sand," Kakashi muttered.

"Mufasa?!"