#64

The story of his past life shaped Mufasa's beliefs.

He understood that the world and the hearts of the people could not be conquered by force alone.

Violence and terror might keep people in check for a while, but peace built on fear was nothing more than an illusion.

Beneath the surface, resentment festered, passing from one generation to the next like lava simmering beneath a volcano.

The moment a crack appeared, all that pent-up hatred would erupt, consuming everything in its path.

The only way to truly curb war was to create a prosperous and thriving society where everyone had a fair share and no one was left wanting. A place where people felt secure and fulfilled, without the need to take up arms.

It was an incredibly difficult path, one that had never truly succeeded before. But Mufasa wanted to try.

He spoke to Tsunade, urging her to abandon outdated ideas and lead Konoha into an era of growth. He didn't want the village to remain stagnant, only to be slowly drained of its wealth by Sunagakure.

A weakened Konoha would eventually become the catalyst for yet another war. Perhaps there would even be some grand collapse plan against Konoha—one that would undo everything they had built.

Sustainability was the only real choice.

Tsunade remained silent for a long time. Then, with a sharp motion, she slammed her glass onto the table.

"I..."

She wanted to deny it. But deep down, she couldn't. The changes in the Sand Ninja Village were undeniable. Mufasa might truly be onto something.

Yet, when she thought about the village elders and the council, a wave of helplessness washed over her.

Their authority, their resistance to change—it was suffocating.

Even with all her strength, political power was an entirely different battlefield.

Mufasa chuckled. "You need to realize something. As Hokage, your power is limitless."

Tsunade turned to him, skeptical.

"Don't give those old fossils more credit than they deserve," he continued. "You are the granddaughter of Senju Hashirama. You are the Hokage. When it comes to status, prestige, and authority, you have no reason to bow to them."

"And don't worry about lacking support. Kakashi, Might Guy, Asuma Sarutobi, and the other Jonin will stand by you."

"As for the Hyuga, Sarutobi, Nara, Hatake, and other clans, as long as their interests remain intact, they won't interfere."

Tsunade hesitated. "Can I really do it?"

Mufasa's answer was firm. "You will. Because you're Tsunade."

Throughout history, she had dismissed the advisory council, promoted new talent, and taken control when it mattered.

This time would be no different.

Tsunade exhaled, lifting her glass. "Let's drink."

She had made her decision.

...

After finishing their drinks, Tsunade proposed a visit to the Sand Ninja Village.

However, upon arrival, she found the nightlife disappointingly dull.

"Are there only a few izakayas in your village?" she asked, frowning. "The streets are dead at night."

Mufasa sighed. "It hasn't been that long since life improved here. People are still adjusting. Give it time."

To make up for the lack of entertainment, he took her on a ride on the village's most unique mode of transport—the subway.

Tsunade was pleasantly surprised. "This is convenient," she admitted. "But I don't think Konoha really needs one."

"Not yet," Mufasa agreed. "But when the village grows, it will."

During their ride, they ran into Sasuke on his way home from work.

Walking beside him was a red-haired kunoichi with glasses—Karin, the newest researcher at the village's medical facility.

Mufasa greeted Sasuke with a wave. "Hey, Sasuke."

Sasuke gave a slight nod, while Karin quickly fell into step beside him, her eyes darting between Mufasa and Tsunade.

Tsunade, observing the interaction, smirked. "Is she your girlfriend?" she teased, gesturing toward Karin.

Karin's face turned bright red as she fidgeted nervously. Sasuke, however, remained unfazed.

"No."

"My lord, I'll take my leave," Sasuke said quickly. "The train's here."

Without another word, he turned and walked away. Karin followed, still flustered.

Tsunade turned to Mufasa, raising an eyebrow. "So this is your 'Sand Ninja labor camp,' huh? Doesn't seem like they respect you much as their overseer."

Mufasa laughed. "This isn't a labor camp. It's a place where people are transformed."

Tsunade's gaze lingered on Karin. "Who is she?"

"Karin of the Uzumaki Clan," Mufasa replied.

Tsunade fell silent. It was a painful reminder of Konoha's failure to protect the Uzumaki Clan in the past.

After a moment, she chuckled. "You know... I'm looking forward to seeing if those two end up together."

"What kind of kid do you think they'd have?"

The immense spiritual power of the Uchiha bloodline combined with the vitality of the Uzumaki Clan.

"Probably someone even stronger than Naruto."

Meeting Karin reminded Mufasa of something important.

"Tsunade, can you take me to meet the Slug Sage of the Shikkotsu Forest?"

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

Mufasa smirked. "I want to sign a contract."

Though he had access to advanced medical technology, the healing methods of the ninja world were still invaluable.

Unlike toads or snakes, which focused on combat, the slugs specialized in healing.

That was what interested him most.

He had no shortage of offensive techniques, but medical support was a weakness.

A healer could only be in one place at a time, but a divided slug could spread healing across an entire battlefield.

The Sand Village lacked enough skilled medical ninjas, and Mufasa knew this was a resource Konoha shouldn't have a monopoly on.

Tsunade folded her arms. "Forget it. You're not a medical ninja. The Slug Sage won't sign a contract with you."

Mufasa chuckled. "Then maybe I can't, but my medical ninjas can."

Tsunade sighed. "We'll talk about it later."

"When?"

"When I'm Hokage."

Mufasa paused before grinning. "Looks like you've made up your mind to go back and shake things up."

Tsunade nodded.

Seeing the advancements in the Sand Village, she couldn't deny that they had outpaced Konoha in many ways.

Their defensive systems alone were far more reliable than Konoha's traditional barrier seals.

The village's welfare policies also outclassed what Konoha provided its citizens.

Mufasa raised his glass. "Then I wish you success."

Before leaving, she had a final conversation with Mufasa.

"Now I finally understand what your 'One Country, One Village' policy is about. You're afraid the Daimyo of the Land of Wind will try to use Konoha against you, aren't you?"

Mufasa was honest. "That's one reason."

Tsunade smirked. "Your strategy is clever. It ties our hands. But I'll warn you—the Daimyo values his own interests more than any village's affairs. Right now, you've shaken things up by overthrowing him and replacing him with your system.

The other Daimyos haven't fully grasped what you've done yet. But once they do, you'll have a real problem."

Mufasa remained calm. "I don't mind a little trouble."

Tsunade leaned forward. "Let me spell it out. If the other Daimyos pay Konoha to take action against you, our shinobi will have no choice but to comply. And it won't just be us. The other villages might join in too."

Mufasa sighed. "That's the tragedy of being a ninja. You don't always get to choose your battles. Sometimes, you have to face enemies you don't want to fight, and kill people you don't want to kill."

He gave her a small smile. "But don't worry. If that time comes, I'll go easy on you. I'll spare as many of your people as I can."

Tsunade scoffed. "Same goes for us."

...

Mufasa, accompanied by Sasori, was inspecting the Blood Pool Factory.

The factory had undergone its third round of upgrades. Originally, massive blood pools resembling swimming pools had been transformed into long, narrow channels. Blood was funneled down into a central reservoir, and mechanical arms lined the tanks on either side.

Sasori gestured toward the machines. "My lord, watch this—once the blade is fully restored, the arm detects the weight and automatically removes it."

A mechanical arm lifted a fully repaired beheading sword from the blood.

Another arm descended.

Click.

It snapped the sword in half.

The conveyor belts whirred as they carried the pieces away—one half sent back into the blood, the other transported to the ironworks for further refinement. The process was seamless, fully automated.

Mufasa watched in satisfaction as rows of mechanical arms moved like a synchronized forest, efficiently repairing and recycling weapons.

"Well done, Captain Sasori," he praised. "This is excellent work."

Sasori, finally motivated after the threat of losing his privilege to pilot the Gundam, stood a little taller. "I serve you, my lord."

Mufasa chuckled. "It's not just for me, but for everyone. The more efficient we are, the more resources we gain. That means more materials for you to build stronger puppets."

Sasori's eyes gleamed with excitement. "That would be ideal."

Mufasa tilted his head. "Though, isn't your current body already quite powerful? Why the need to change?"

Sasori's new form hovered in midair, his regeneration core encased in a floating metallic sphere. Two small mechanical arms extended from the core, alongside a large mechanical eye—his entire essence condensed into a levitating machine.

He looked…

Cute.

Like a bizarre, legless, big-eyed monster.

"This form is more efficient for my work," Sasori explained, spinning in a slow circle. "The human body is far too cumbersome. See? I can move wherever I please!"

Mufasa sighed, watching the once-handsome puppeteer twirl happily in the air. The kawaii factor was still intact, at least.

...

Mufasa entered the interrogation room.

Deidara sat restrained, electric coils wrapped around his arms and legs. Any attempt to mold chakra would result in a painful shock. The once-arrogant blonde had been enduring this torment for days. When he saw Mufasa, he gritted his teeth.

"You demon. What do you want?"

Sako, the Jonin in charge of interrogation, cracked a whip against the floor. "Watch your mouth."

Mufasa wasn't surprised. Sand Village wasn't all clean streets and progress. Its prisons and interrogation chambers were just as efficient.

"Has he talked yet?" Mufasa asked.

Sako shook her head. "No, sir. His will is strong."

Deidara sneered. "Kazekage, forget it. I'll never say a word."

Mufasa raised an eyebrow. "You've already betrayed Iwagakure. Why are you so loyal to their secrets?"

Deidara scoffed. "That's my decision."

Despite leaving his village, he wasn't willing to hand over its forbidden techniques. A village's strength came from its unique jutsu. He would rather die than let Sand Village steal Iwa's legacy.

Mufasa chuckled. "You should know—this technique is very important to me."

The technique Deidara guarded so fiercely allowed him to mold chakra into materials like clay, shaping them into living bombs. They could crawl, fly, and explode with immense precision. Mufasa wasn't interested in making bombs.

But he was interested in the principle behind it.

If he could modify this technique to grant chakra and vitality to his mechanical constructs, then his Metal Village could truly come to life.

Imagine it—an army of sentient steel warriors, moving with the will of chakra, powerful and self-sustaining. Deidara's technique was the missing piece.

Mufasa's expression darkened as he stared down at the prisoner.

"So I'll ask one more time—will you give me the forbidden technique willingly?"

Deidara stuck out his tongue. "Not a chance."

His smirk was defiant. "You might as well kill me. I'm not talking."

Mufasa sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

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Word count: 1896