#6

Mufasa moved effortlessly, the sand beneath him shifting with each step.

Gaara, Kankuro, Temari, and the others watched in stunned silence.

Temari finally broke the quiet. "I think… Boss Mufasa might actually be stronger than the Kazekage."

Gaara, for once, didn't argue.

"Mm."

Without wasting another moment, Mufasa turned his attention to the next phase of his plan—building an ironworks.

Given the current situation, he needed something far more advanced than a standard forge. A high-powered electric blast furnace would be the key to large-scale iron production. On top of that, he envisioned an iron ingot processing line and an assembly line dedicated to forging ninja tools.

He closed his eyes.

The intricate schematics of his scientific ninja tool system activated in his mind.

Blueprints.

Mufasa navigated through the mental interface, scanning for the right model. He settled on a high-efficiency electric blast furnace—capable of producing 100 tons of iron per day, with a maximum operating temperature of 12,000 degrees.

Cost: 30,000 ryo.

"Purchase."

A moment later, his system balance decreased, and the detailed blueprints for the furnace embedded themselves in his memory.

Now came the real work.

Opening his eyes, Mufasa turned to Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari. "I need three tons of iron ingots and one ton of steel ingots. Get them from the warehouse."

Without hesitation, they set off to gather the materials.

Once they returned, Mufasa stepped forward and placed his hands on the stacked metal. Sparks of chakra surged through his fingertips, crackling like miniature bolts of lightning.

"The Art of Non-Scientific Ninja Tool Creation."

Electricity arced across the steel and iron ingots, enveloping them in a dazzling glow.

Metal began breaking apart and reshaping at an impossible speed. The raw materials disassembled and reassembled in mere seconds, their non-metallic components seamlessly replaced by chakra-infused elements.

The onlookers shielded their eyes from the intense blue-white light.

When it faded, they opened their eyes—only to find a towering, fully-formed electric blast furnace standing over 30 meters high in front of them.

Kankuro exhaled sharply, stepping back. "Boss… You always call it 'making a ninja tool,' but tell me—who the hell would use jutsu with a in creating a blast furnace?"

Mufasa suddenly appeared beside him, smirking.

"Didn't I just did that?"

Mufasa flicked Kankuro's forehead with his finger.

"All tools used by ninja are ninja tools. Got it?"

Kankuro rubbed his head, grumbling under his breath. "Yes, boss…"

Mufasa smirked. "If you want to be an excellent craftsman, you need to break free from conventional thinking. Innovation is key."

Shaking off his minor grievance, Kankuro nodded.

Mufasa turned to his team. "The three of you, go bring the generator over."

While they got to work, he focused on transporting the newly constructed electric blast furnace into the factory. Using his magnetic control, he effortlessly lifted the towering structure, guiding it through the entrance and securing it inside.

Deep in the basement of the Faraday Ninja Factory, two entire rooms were filled with massive storage batteries.

This was Mufasa's personal creation—an energy system designed to push both his body and mind to their limits.

His method was simple yet brutal.

For physical training, he used bioelectricity to strengthen his muscles and nervous system, forcing his body to adapt and grow stronger.

For mental training, he pushed his chakra output to the absolute limit, generating the maximum possible electrical current. Then, in a single burst, he discharged everything, leaving himself drained. The slow process of recovery expanded his chakra reserves over time.

The best part?

The energy wasn't wasted. All the power he generated was stored in the factory's batteries, fueling operations.

Two birds, one stone.

Outside, the team worked in sync.

Kankuro pulled the power lines, Gaara shaped the pipes with sand, and Temari used her wind jutsu to thread the cables through the underground conduits. Once everything was in place, Gaara raised a series of utility poles from the desert floor, securing the electrical grid.

Their coordination was seamless.

Soon, the wiring was connected to the blast furnace.

A series of indicator lights flickered on, illuminating the control panel.

It was operational.

Mufasa crossed his arms. "Feed in the broken blade of the Executioner's Blade."

The shattered remnants of the infamous blade were carefully placed inside the furnace.

With a deep mechanical hum, the system roared to life. The temperature began rising—higher, higher, until it reached its critical threshold.

At 4,500 degrees, the blade's unique regenerative properties failed. The once-infamous weapon lost its ability to absorb iron and restore itself. What remained was pure molten metal, completely reshaped and ready for repurposing.

Mufasa watched the glowing red liquid pour from the furnace, a satisfied grin forming on his face.

This wasn't just progress—it was the foundation of something revolutionary.

The first step for Faraday Industries.

And a giant leap for Sunagakure.

"Keep going," he ordered. "Melt down the rest of the broken blades."

With that, he turned to leave, extending his hand. A chunk of molten iron floated toward him, hovering just above his palm.

There was still so much more to do.

Phase One of his plan required the construction of an oil field, a refinery, and an oil-powered generator plant. Once energy production was secured, he could begin mass-producing standardized ninja weapons—kunai, shuriken, senbon, and swords.

Industrialization would allow them to flood the market with affordable, high-quality ninja tools. It would crush domestic competition within the Land of Wind and give Sunagakure a monopoly on the ninja tool industry.

And this was only the beginning.

Once the funding and manpower were secured, he'd expand further—puppet assembly lines, scientific ninja tool production, and beyond.

The future of warfare was about to change.

Kazekage's Office

Rasa leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. His golden eyes remained locked on Ye Gui.

"The Chunin Exams begin in one month. Has Otogakure agreed to our terms?"

Baki nodded. "Yes, Kazekage-sama. The Hidden Sound will handle the Hokage."

Rasa's expression darkened.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, was hailed as "The Strongest Hokage in History," "The Professor," and "The God of Shinobi."

A formidable opponent.

If Otogakure was confident enough to take him on alone, Rasa wouldn't object.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Excellent."

"Our Konoha Collapse Plan will proceed as expected."

At no point did he consider that Orochimaru was the mastermind behind Otogakure.

"Baki, I appreciate your efforts."

"In the coming days, you will serve as both liaison and team leader for the Chunin Exams. Prepare to depart for Konoha."

Baki bowed. "Understood."

Rasa stood, his gaze sweeping over the vast desert beyond his window.

"This time, I'll be going to Konoha as well," he declared. "The fate of Sunagakure rests on this plan. We must not fail."

"Do your best, Baki."

"Yes, Kazekage-sama."

A knock at the door interrupted them.

One of Rasa's guards stepped inside. "Kazekage-sama, Mufasa is here to see you."

Rasa's expression soured instantly.

What does that lunatic want now?

His good mood took a sharp nosedive.

"…Let him in."

Mufasa stepped into the room.

Rasa turned his head and immediately noticed the ball of molten iron floating above Mufasa's palm. It glowed red-hot, radiating an intense heat that made the air around it waver.

Frowning, Rasa narrowed his eyes. "Mufasa, what exactly are you doing?"

Mufasa smirked, letting the molten iron swirl and reshape in his palm before gesturing for Rasa to take a closer look. "I told you I'd find a way to solve the village's financial problems, didn't I?" His voice carried an air of confidence. "Well, I've done it. Look."

Rasa extended his hand, channeling his magnetic chakra to examine the molten iron more closely. As he did, his expression darkened, and irritation flashed in his eyes.

"Mufasa, stop with the nonsense," Rasa snapped. "I've tolerated your antics for three generations, but now you dare mock me with mere molten iron? Don't think for a second that I won't deal with you accordingly."

Mufasa chuckled, lifting the molten iron higher. "Rasa, are your eyes failing you? Can't you see what makes this different?"

Rasa hesitated. Mufasa wasn't joking—his eyes were sharp, his posture unwavering. Suspicion gnawed at him, and he examined the iron once more. It was undeniably high quality, far superior to any ordinary molten metal.

But still… "Even if it's better quality, how does that solve the village's financial crisis?" Rasa demanded.

Mufasa's smirk widened. "Let me make this clear: the most important part about this molten iron isn't its quality. It's the fact that I made it. Do you understand what that means?"

Rasa's breath hitched. Made it?

A sudden thought struck him, and his eyes widened. "You didn't… you didn't steal from the Daimyo's mines, did you?"

Mufasa scoffed, crossing his arms. "Steal? Please. What's a mine compared to what I've created? I've moved beyond that."

With a confident gleam in his eyes, Mufasa began explaining his Sandworm Ironworks—the factory he had set up, the resources he had harnessed, and the grand vision he had for the future. Rasa listened, his brows furrowing as he processed the scale of the plan.

"To fully realize this," Mufasa continued, "I need the village's support. A power plant, a factory, assembly lines, and more sandworms to expand our material supply. In the beginning, I'll need at least 200 people to start production. Once trained, over 100 of them will become salesmen, traveling across the ninja world."

He took a step closer. "Our ninja tools will dominate the market—not just in the Land of Wind, but in other nations as well. The assembly line can be operational tomorrow, churning out standardized ninja tools in bulk. Sales can begin immediately. If all goes as planned, the village's financial crisis will soon be a thing of the past."

Mufasa's tone grew even more assured. "With production expanding, the village will become wealthier and more powerful."

"Enough!" Rasa's voice boomed through the room.

He clenched his fists, his patience wearing thin. "You're delusional!"

Mufasa's eyes turned cold. Without a word, the molten iron in his palm solidified and crumbled into a pile of iron slag, falling to the floor with a dull clang.

"What did you say?" Mufasa's voice was low and dangerous.

Rasa straightened, his posture rigid. He couldn't afford to show weakness. He was still the Kazekage.

"Hmph. The ninja world runs on strength, Mufasa. Without it, your business will never leave the Land of Wind. No—your factory won't even survive within Sunagakure."

Mufasa let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you serious? Do you think I don't understand that?" He scoffed. "If I didn't have the strength to back this up, you'd have already taken my gold dust for yourself."

Rasa fell silent.

He had, indeed, once tried to use force against Mufasa, only to be swiftly overpowered. That failure had taught him a painful lesson. It was also the reason why Mufasa had waited until he was at a Kage-level strength before revealing his business plans.

The ninja world was ruthless. Only the strong could carve out a future. If he hadn't been strong enough, he would've never dared to take this step.

Rasa's face twisted in frustration. He was both irritated and unwilling to admit that Mufasa had a point.

"So what if you're strong?" Rasa growled. "Even if your kunai are better, even if your shuriken are top-tier, that doesn't mean they'll dominate the market."

"For the village, war is the true priority," Rasa stated firmly. "Business ventures are insignificant."

"Victory over our enemies ensures wealth and power. Why waste our shinobi on trivial economic matters when they should be fighting battles that truly matter?"

Mufasa's lips curled into a smirk, laced with sarcasm. "So, the ultimate goal is to defeat Konoha, is it?"

Rasa stiffened, his pulse quickening. Did Mufasa know about his plans?

"After crushing Konoha, you'll march to Kirigakure. Then Iwagakure. Then Kumogakure. One by one, the great nations will fall, and you think Sunagakure will rise to become the strongest village in the ninja world."

"Hmph!" Rasa scoffed, dismissing the notion.

Mufasa shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and disappointment. "You're too naïve, Rasa."

"It's not just the military strength of the other villages you need to consider. There are rogue shinobi, underground organizations, and other forces at play. Do you really believe Sunagakure can hold them all down?"

Rasa's face darkened as reality sank in.

"Sunagakure is already at a disadvantage," Mufasa continued. "We are the weakest of the five great villages. If you truly want to strengthen the village, you must abandon this reckless pursuit of conquest and focus on sustainable development."

"Power gained solely through war is fleeting. New enemies will always rise, and conflict never ends."

Frustration flared in Rasa's eyes. "And you think your kunai and shuriken will make the village strong?"

Mufasa nodded firmly. "Yes."

"Economic growth is the only real path forward."

"Sunagakure's greatest weakness isn't its military—it's the lack of resources. Our economy is underdeveloped, and our harsh environment drives talent away. The best shinobi families won't settle here because we offer them nothing."

He took a step closer, his voice unwavering. "Wealth attracts power. If we make Sunagakure a thriving economic hub, we can offer higher wages and better resources, drawing in talented ninja from across the world. That's how we become strong."