Chapter 54: Of Perverts, Politics, and Power

"Hey, hey, hey, Sasuke, why are you still acting all shy?"

Early morning on the streets of Konoha, Naruto grinned smugly at Sasuke, who walked beside him, while Kitagawa Gen trudged behind them, still half-asleep.

"Shut up, idiot!"

Sasuke couldn't help but shoot Naruto a glare. He just couldn't understand—how could this guy be so carefree?

And now he was even wearing that smug expression?

If it hadn't been for the fact that things got out of hand last night and he'd been 'voluntarily' forced to share a room with this idiot, he would've pretended not to know him at all!

Just remembering how Naruto used that so-called Sexy Jutsu—right as a group of shinobi happened to walk in—

That moment... that suffocating silence, as if the very air had frozen—Sasuke truly wanted to smash his head into a wall and end it all!

"Alright, alright. It's not that big a deal. Besides, didn't Jiraiya-sama agree to train you guys? What's there to complain about?"

Even though Kitagawa Gen still looked half-asleep, he couldn't help but chime in as he recalled what happened the day before. Naruto, standing beside him, eagerly nodded.

"Exactly! The whole reason I developed that jutsu was to get the attention of that old pervert in the first place!"

"Gen-senpai, if I remember right, weren't you laughing quite happily last night?"

Sasuke gritted his teeth. Sure, they'd gotten Jiraiya's promise to train them, but he couldn't match Naruto's thick skin!

Yet soon, he realized—this upperclassman wasn't simple either!

"You must be mistaken. I'm a shinobi. Professionally trained. No matter how funny something is, I wouldn't laugh."

Gen shook his head firmly, voice full of conviction.

But Naruto couldn't help but glance at him sideways. If he remembered correctly, this 'professional shinobi' had definitely let out a few shameless 'kuku' chuckles on the side…

At that moment, Naruto suddenly didn't feel so proud anymore. Something about all this felt… off?

"Gen-senpai, have you ever experienced something really embarrassing?"

Sasuke, watching the banter between the other two, was already reaching his limit. But facing Kitagawa Gen, he didn't dare lash out directly and could only ask in a low voice.

"Me? Hmm… I don't think so."

Gen rubbed his chin, giving it some thought. As far as he could remember…

Right?

Suddenly, his expression froze.

Because—he did remember something!

Thirteen or fourteen years ago, when he'd been run over by a truck, he probably hadn't had time to clear his phone…

And his browser history on his computer… not to mention that one folder he forgot to hide…

He was starting to truly understand what it meant to be 'physically alive, yet socially over-dead'. If anyone had found that stuff—he didn't even want to imagine it!

In that moment, he could almost feel his fists clenching involuntarily.

"Gen, there you are."

Just as he was seriously considering whether to 'educate' these two junior punks and show them what a real shinobi's iron fist was, a voice suddenly called out.

He looked up to see Kakashi walking over, Make-Out Paradise in hand, though his gaze couldn't help but drift to Naruto for a moment.

That scene from last night… it had been seared into his memory.

"Kakashi-sensei."

Seeing Kakashi, Gen instantly perked up. He turned and said to the two brats: "You two head to school on your own. I've got other things to take care of."

"Another mission?"

The two boys' eyes instantly lit up—clearly envious beyond belief.

"No, just a small matter. I'll be going now."

Gen waved casually and turned to jog toward Kakashi. He really did have something to deal with that morning.

And no, it wasn't a mission—rather…

"Dragging me out this early just to pick up some certificates? Don't you ever sleep?"

Gen grumbled silently to himself. Still, it was better to get these things cleared up early. He had a lot to take care of.

For example, it was time to start working on his Ice Release.

And he'd nearly finished studying that Yin-Yang release data he'd gotten from Obito the first time...

...

"Damn it, Jiraiya really did come back to snatch the Hokage position!"

At the Root base, Shimura Danzō was in an exceptionally foul mood.

He hadn't forgotten what he overheard the previous day when he pushed open the door to meet Sarutobi Hiruzen. That sentence he caught had chilled him to the bone.

He just couldn't understand why—why did everyone go out of their way to avoid mentioning him whenever the topic of the Hokage came up? As if he was doomed to never become Hokage!

More than thirty years ago, he had departed from Konohagakure to take part in the Second Great Ninja War, helping defend the village from foreign invasion.

Yet just because he had hesitated for a single second back then and lost to Hiruzen, was that it? Were his chances at the Hokage seat gone forever, even after just a few decades?

"I can't rush it... I can't rush it. I have to slowly think of a strategy."

Though Danzō's resentment had reached its peak, he didn't dare directly challenge Sarutobi Hiruzen just yet.

After all, he wasn't officially reinstated to his former position. He still needed time.

Even if he was already seventy, who said Konohagakure couldn't have a seventy-year-old Hokage?

"Let's just focus on the work at hand first."

Danzō understood that, for now, his only path forward was through diligent effort. If he could make breakthroughs in intelligence gathering, he'd gain more opportunities.

The problem, however, was this: what if he gathered critical intelligence only for Jiraiya to swoop in and take the credit? That would be disastrous.

"So I have to split the intel—make sure Jiraiya gets nothing real, but still make it look convincing."

His mind raced. Uchiha Obito, that mysterious organization—those were all his concerns, his responsibilities.

Thanks to handling these matters, he had regained a portion of his old authority. After all, Root needed manpower to carry out its tasks.

"It's a shame about that brat."

Thinking of manpower reminded Danzō of that boy, Kitagawa Gen.

He had already received the reports and now understood Gen's current situation. Frankly, he was so envious it made his eyes burn red.

Unfortunately, he didn't dare make a move toward anyone under Hiruzen's influence right now.

Just like how he knew Uchiha Obito's Sharingan had reached Mangekyō status—and suspected Kakashi's eye might have evolved as well—but didn't dare act. All he could do was silently observe, just as he did with Obito.

"Especially since that kid is Kakashi's student."

He could still vividly recall Kakashi's betrayal back then, and it made him grind his teeth with hatred.

If Kakashi hadn't stabbed him in the back, Sarutobi Hiruzen might already be dead—and he would be Hokage by now!

"Forget it. No use thinking about that."

After a long while, Danzō let out a long sigh. He fell into deep thought for a moment—and finally came up with an idea.

"Looks like I'll have to work something out through Orochimaru."

Sure, constantly selling out 'allies' might seem immoral, but Danzō couldn't care less—he never had that kind of thing to begin with.

And neither did Orochimaru.

"Still, I can't go too far. I'll offer up one of Orochimaru's bases to lure Jiraiya. Hopefully he won't come back."

Danzō muttered under his breath, then simply picked up the scroll on his desk and began reading. He still needed to stay focused on his current tasks.

But after just a moment of reading, his lone eye suddenly went slightly out of focus.

"Trouble again with that heretic cult in the Land of Hot Water? And apparently someone's been asking around about me—a skilled bounty ninja, dressed in black with red clouds?"

Staring at the intel, Danzō remembered seeing Orochimaru wear a similar outfit before. Immediately, his thoughts turned.

...

"Congratulations on becoming a Chūnin, Gen."

"Thank you. But..."

"What is it?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Kakashi-sensei. Not only did I fail to make it to Jōnin at my age, I didn't even qualify as a Special Jōnin."

"…"

As they walked out of the Hokage Residence, Kakashi gave Gen a deadpan look after hearing that comment.

He was beginning to regret ever saying, "When I was your age, I was already a Jōnin."

"Be satisfied already. Sure, you're talented, but there are some things that can't be rushed. This isn't wartime. You've got a lot more to learn—and besides, this is all part of training your temperament."

"…Okay."

Gen nodded. He actually understood that, at least a little. It was just a shame his attempt to exploit a loophole had failed.

Special Jōnin—depending on how you looked at it, it was still a kind of Jōnin. He wasn't sure if the system would recognize it as such.

But what could he do? If the rank wasn't officially assigned, then it just wasn't. Still, the fact that he had become a Chūnin barely half a year after graduating—without even needing to take the exam—was already impressive enough.

'If this keeps up, I might really become Naruto's proctor one day!'

Kitagawa Gen mused to himself, but at that moment, Kakashi seemed to recall something and turned to glare at him with that infamous dead-fish eye.

"By the way, what was that jutsu last night about? What the hell have you been teaching Naruto?"

"That had nothing to do with me!"

Gen immediately denied it. There was no way he was letting that fall on his shoulders.

"It was all his own idea. Besides, didn't Jiraiya-sama already agree to mentor him? And it looks like it's going pretty well."

"That method?"

Kakashi was at a loss for words. In the end, he could only roll his eyes and mutter: "Forget it. Just go home and get some rest. You've looked pale since yesterday—something seemed off about you."

"Can't help it. I was born this way. Oh, right—Kakashi-sensei, what do you think about me dyeing my hair white?"

"…"

"I mean, since I'm always going on missions with you and Jiraiya-sama, I'm the only one with black hair. Kinda feels out of place, doesn't it?"

"…"

Kakashi gave up on trying to reason with the kid. He turned around, head lowered, and walked home with his nose buried in that little yellow book.

Last night had dragged on far too long. He was tired.

Gen watched him go, waved once, and then dashed off toward home himself.

It wasn't until he jumped in through his window that he suddenly realized—

"Huh? Why didn't I just use Flying Thunder God?"

He scratched his head, but couldn't be bothered to dwell on it. Instead, he locked the doors and windows, then plopped down on the floor.

"Let's just try it out first."

He had already deciphered most of the Yin-Yang techniques' foundational knowledge, but he had to admit—this stuff was way more complex than he had anticipated.

"Especially… the materials Uchiha Madara left for Obito—there's definitely something off about them."

As someone with instinctual chakra control so advanced it was practically second nature, he could spot minor inconsistencies and logical flaws within the instructional texts.

After all, the materials were secondhand. But he could tweak things using his own understanding.

Obito's notes were no exception. He began to realize there was a reason the term used was 'Yin-Yang Technique' rather than 'Yin-Yang Release'.

"Still, it's not useless to me. If I can isolate and enhance either Yin Release or Yang Release individually, that's also pretty valuable. In fact, it might count as one of the Ōtsutsuki's innate abilities, right?"

Gen couldn't help but wonder just how many so-called 'innate abilities' the Ōtsutsuki bloodline actually had.

The deeper he dug into this bloodline, the more terrifying it became—and the more he felt that beings like Momoshiki and Urashiki were just plain ridiculous.

Even Isshiki, with all his overwhelming strength, ended up becoming a Kāma. Through Jigen's eyes, he'd probably witnessed the full evolution of the shinobi world.

"Let's start with the more manageable Ice Release, then slowly work my way back to the Yin-Yang Techniques."

As he pondered this, Gen slowly raised his hand. In that instant, wind and water chakra began to converge in his palm.

Under his expert control, the two energies began to interact, and a wave of cold slowly formed between his hands.

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