Chapter 10: First B-Rank Mission

"Lord Isuke I, I've finished today's autopsy. The analysis reports are sorted and sealed. If there's nothing else, I'll head over to the Memorial Stone and find a spot to bury the body."

With that, Arata grabbed an umbrella and stepped out the door.

A light rain drifted down from the midnight sky as he carried a lantern through the forest of memorial stones, stopping at an empty patch on the edge of the grounds.

He raised his carving knife and etched an unfamiliar name into a gravestone. Beneath it, he casually added the lie: Killed one Iwagakure Chunin.

The scraping of the blade against the stone sounded like fingernails clawing across a coffin lid.

This corpse, the one he'd sewn up with his own hands today, bore a fatal wound to the skull, one clearly inflicted by a Konoha kunai.

It was just another standard assignment from the Corpse Disposal Department. 

Orders came from the Intelligence Interrogation Bureau, and the subordinate branches, Corpse Disposal, Intelligence Compilation, Prison Management, carried them out: dispose of unidentifiable remains.

Each new name added to the official casualty list meant an extra sum from the Land of Fire's daimyo. That extra money ultimately went to fund human experimentation.

Near the war's end, the economic burden had become unbearable. Konoha couldn't shoulder it alone, after all, the village was essentially a massive military district for the Land of Fire. 

A prolonged war required the support of countless nobles and lords throughout the land, all funneling resources to keep the village alive.

In that kind of situation, carving out extra research funding from the state treasury was no easy feat, especially for projects with no immediate military returns. That required... creative methods.

It was the will of the village. And it had to be done.

The graveyard soil was swollen and soggy from the rain. Finishing his work, Arata dragged the body of a Kumogakure Genin into his personal office.

In this five-man department, fewer people meant fewer eyes. Arata always had more than enough space to conduct his own research, and no one ever asked questions. 

After all, they all dealt with corpses, performing duties that clashed directly with the Will of Fire, cloaked in secrecy and shadows. Tolerance ran high for colleagues with... unusual preferences.

"October 25th. Yoshida Arata resumed training in the Dead Soul Technique. No current evidence of contact with Nono Yakushi."

Isuke glanced up briefly, quietly noting it down before turning back to the corpse in front of him. 

He didn't enjoy this job either, but as a shinobi, he had no right to pick and choose, only to accept and carry out orders.

…

Pale blue chakra seeped from Arata's fingertips into the corpse's chakra network. In the dark, the dead man's eyes bulged grotesquely, and a gurgling growl rasped from his rotting throat.

"Experiment No. 37 this month: A Genin dead for over forty-eight hours can only withstand fifteen minutes of intense physical activity before spinal collapse. 

In contrast, an Iwagakure Chunin dead for less than forty-eight hours retains the ability to use the majority of their former jutsu, though finger bones do tend to shatter during hand seals..."

What intrigued Arata the most was the corpse of Suna Jonin, a zombified puppet master whose fingers could still generate chakra threads.

"Based on my accumulated experience in corpse transport and processing, the ten-minute window prior to brain death is optimal for transformation. 

Such a zombie nearly perfectly replicates the shinobi's former strength and, for a brief period, can even exceed it, though the chakra refinement required is so extreme that it rapidly destroys the body. 

Usually one battle is all it takes before complete failure."

But that wasn't necessarily a waste. Right before total collapse, one could trigger a "corpse detonation", weaponizing decomposition itself. Waste not, want not.

Arata sketched a new curve into his experiment log. The zombie's lung tissue had begun displaying a spider web-like network of bizarre markings.

He casually slit open its trachea. As black blood gushed out, the decayed vocal cords gave one final tremble and snapped, ending even its instinctive howls. 

This particular corpse, once a Jonin-level puppet master, still retained about 40% of its original strength.

Arata's only regret was that his first zombified Jonin happened to be a puppet user, and he didn't have enough puppets to arm it.

Maybe... I can assign it some lower-tier zombies? Use Genin or Chunin corpses as disposable puppets?

A zombie using zombies as puppets. Perhaps that, too, could be classified as a new type of jutsu, Arata mused.

The door slammed open, and the coppery stench of fresh blood tore through his thoughts.

Two Root shinobi burst into the morgue, a stretcher crashing through the door. 

On it lay a young ninja, his skin mottled purple-black, convulsing violently. Black blood leaked from his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose, pooling thick and sticky on the metal table.

Arata glanced over. He recognized him.

Hibari Suzumebachi.

"He's beyond saving."

Isuke gave the bare minimum examination before shaking his head. 

"The war with Amegakure is over, so this must be a Suna poison. All his organs are corroded. Someone like this should've been disposed of earlier. Why bring him here while he's still alive?"

One Root agent ripped off his bloodstained gloves and tossed them aside, minimizing the risk of contamination. 

"The medical-nin at the hospital tried for two days. Nothing worked. He was officially declared beyond saving. 

Since Lady Tsunade is out of the village with Lord Dan on a mission, there was no one left who could analyze the toxin. So Tatsuma-sama ordered us to bring him here."

"He's no more savable here than he was there."

"You're not here to save him," the other Root ninja replied coldly. His voice was icy, and his eyes behind the mask betrayed no trace of emotion. 

"You are to dissect him while he's still alive. Observe organ deterioration and compile a detailed report on the toxin. 

This will be submitted to Lady Tsunade as a reference for her to crack Suna's poisons."

"This is an official B-rank mission. If successful, it'll be noted on your record. But if word of this gets out... then you'll become a mission yourselves."

Isuke frowned, then nodded slowly. 

"Understood. No fools get assigned to the corpse disposing department. No gossip either. Everyone here knows exactly what fate awaits them..."

Dissecting a living comrade, an ally of the same village, was the kind of scandal that, if exposed, would shake the entire shinobi world and crush the morale of every front-line soldier.

Isuke looked from the two Root operatives to the agonized, writhing young shinobi on the table. 

Then, severing what little empathy remained in him, he gave the order to begin the "diagnosis."