Chapter 12: Rotting Orders

Tatsuma's fingers gently brushed the poison analysis report, the rustling of beetles occasionally crawling across his body, sounding faintly in the quiet room.

But his thoughts weren't really on the report. 

Reports like this weren't just handled by the corpse disposal division; Konoha Hospital and even med-nin on the front lines were submitting fragmentary analysis results.

What Tatsuma truly cared about was ensuring that his department remained involved in the antidote research process, he couldn't afford to be left in the dark.

After all, when it came to antidote development, he was far inferior to Tsunade.

And besides, the deaths of a few ordinary shinobi didn't give Tatsuma even a moment's pause. What intrigued him more was the report submitted by Isuke. 

Tiny characters scrawled across the scroll documented intelligence suggesting Arata had potentially improved upon his Jutsu.

And what's more, there had been rough progress.

"Compared to the regular Dead Soul Technique, this version can control corpses for longer periods. 

It sounds a bit like puppet mastery, but without the chakra threads. 

Yoshida Arata… does he actually have the aptitude to develop ninjutsu? That lines up with the doubtful parts of Takano's oral report."

The thought flickered through Tatsuma's mind, but it passed in an instant. He had no regrets. 

Back when he personally selected candidates from among the war orphans, he had overlooked Arata. He hadn't thought much of the boy then, and he certainly didn't now.

Dead Soul Technique wasn't some overwhelmingly difficult technique. Even if it could be further refined, it wasn't enough to make Arata a shinobi of real consequence.

Orphans of war like him were already incredibly lucky just to be alive under the banner of Konoha. 

Their lives had to be spent illuminating the village's path, burning bright and burning fast.

"Besides," Tatsuma murmured, "there's no guarantee that this improved Dead Soul Technique was developed by Arata himself. 

He might just be learning it… Isn't that right, the wandering nun, no, I should say your new name… Yakushi Nono."

A wave of beetles emerged from Tatsuma's cheeks.

"If Tsunade knew what you were doing, she'd never approve. The Will of Fire and Root's ideology are fundamentally incompatible."

Nono stepped out from the shadows, adjusting her glasses. 

The reflection from her lenses caught the light. "Coming back to a place like this… I don't feel even a shred of nostalgia."

Buzz!!

Suddenly, Tatsuma's kikaichu swarm surged toward Nono's throat, but stopped short, frozen half an inch from her skin. 

Between her fingers, Nono held a vial of faintly pink liquid. She let a single drop fall.

"This is a neurotoxin I specially prepared for you. It has a particular affinity for kikaichu neural clusters."

Tatsuma's voice stayed cold. "Poison, after all. I thought you might have used that improved Dead Soul Technique instead, make the corpse explode, perhaps."

"Teaching such twisted ninjutsu to war orphans… doesn't sound like your style," he added flatly. 

"The more talented these orphans are, the more dangerous the missions they'll face. They'll die even faster."

Nono was silent for a moment, thoughtful. She vaguely remembered Arata, a sickly, emaciated boy with a perpetually bitter, gloomy look. He rarely interacted with others.

She had only run the orphanage for a few months before Arata left. After that, they had no further contact.

Yet Tatsuma now believed she had taught Arata the Dead Soul Technique… Logically speaking, she was the only one who could have done it.

Nono didn't deny it. Instead, she said, "It's my duty to protect every child who survived the war. In any case, ordinary genin barely stand a chance on the battlefield… 

This war is more brutal, more bloody than even the First Great Ninja War over twenty years ago. 

No one can say with confidence they'll make it out alive. But that's no reason for you to threaten me using orphanage funding."

"So, you've come to negotiate?" Tatsuma asked.

"No. I've come to warn you."

"To stay away from the children you care so much about?" Tatsuma's tone remained frigid. 

"Who would've thought the infamous the wandering nun, feared across nations, would be such an emotional fool. 

You'll be disappointed soon. More children are about to be sent to the front lines."

He continued, "Our situation against Sunagakure isn't good. We need more shinobi on the front, especially med-nin who've developed even partial resistance to their poisons."

The wars against Amegakure and Sunagakure were especially brutal for medical units. 

That meant even the kids from the orphanage, those with half-baked medical ninjutsu, would be sent to fight.

It was the will of the village. Everything for victory.

"I can protect two or three of the youngest," Tatsuma offered. "And ensure your funding remains on schedule."

"You want me to infiltrate Sunagakure and gather intelligence on their poisons? That won't be easy. 

After Chiyo's son and daughter in law were killed by Hatake Sakumo, she's been obsessed with revenge. She won't leave any weaknesses in her trump cards."

"She has one," Tatsuma said. "Chiyo has a grandson." 

He tossed a prepared mission scroll to Nono. 

"Use whatever means necessary, coercion, deception, disguise. Gather as much intel as possible.

If you can, prioritize acquiring blueprints of Sunagakure's defensive layout, financial stores, and other strategic information."

Tatsuma didn't need to teach Nono how to be a spy. All he had to do was define the desired results, she would handle the rest.

"Sasori…" Nono read the name on the scroll and etched it silently into her mind.

Before long, a mission scroll was delivered into Arata's hands.

Though he had already mentally prepared himself to return to the battlefield, he hadn't expected it to come so soon.

"Our opponents are from Sunagakure… Looks like our efforts have borne fruit," he murmured. 

"Compared to others, us med-nin can survive longer after being poisoned."

Isuke's expression quickly returned to calm. He gave the order to temporarily shut down the corpse processing facility.

"This must be the follow-up to that B-rank mission," Arata said quietly.

"Once the war's over," Isuke added, "some of us might survive and return to this department, continuing the same work."

"We leave in three hours. Prepare yourselves."

No one spoke. They quietly went about organizing their gear.

Arata, having no clan or family to worry about, naturally spent all his funds on every tool and weapon he might need.

Many Chunin and Genin had already died in the war. 

Among them, only Isuke was a Special Jonin, his survival odds were slightly higher. The rest couldn't be certain they'd make it back.

"Well, since it's come to this, I might as well be fully prepared."

Arata made his way straight to the memorial stone. Many of the nameless corpses buried here had been interred by his own hands.

Now it was time to dig them up.

The fresh graves in the southeast corner began to stir. A rain-afflicted reanimated corpse clawed out from its coffin and stumbled toward him.

And more graves soon followed.

"Too bad… In the past two months, I've only managed to secure two Jonin class corpses. Still, for emergencies, it should be enough. I'm just a genin, after all."

There were other Jonin corpses in the processing department, but Arata had only been able to steal two.

Right now, Sunagakure was at its most frenzied. If Konoha could endure just a little longer, they could grind the weakened village down with sheer manpower and endurance.

But in this final, desperate onslaught before collapse, Arata and others like him would have to hold the line.

Swish!

He unfurled a sealing scroll, one corpse after another vanishing into its surface. With each one, a new character appeared on the parchment.

Of course, he wasn't engraving the sealing formula himself. He was using pre-prepared ninja tools, just standard scrolls that allowed specific objects to be sealed inside.

By dawn, a five-man unit was assembled and headed west, toward the Land of Wind.

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