Power Stone Goals from now on: I always post a minimum of 5 chapters. Henceforth the following are the goals:
Every 150 powerstones, I upload an extra chapter.
If we hit top 30 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we hit top 10 in the 30-90 days power stone rankings, thats 1 more chapter
If we are top 5...well lets get to that first. Happy readings!
Chapter 83: 2 new members of the already overpowered organisation
I wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed since I had gone through that grey, unnatural portal and faced whatever the Mime truly was. Time inside that place felt like a folded thing, more suggestion than sequence, and when I returned, I could feel the residue of its dissonance still clinging to the edge of my perception. But as I crouched near the remains of the ore chamber, one thing became immediately clear: no one had made their way toward me yet.
Despite the Fuinjutsu seals embedded throughout the mine, all of which should have been hyper-sensitive to any chakra spike of the level I had just exhibited, there had been no alarm sounded beyond that first alert.
Using the Mind's Eye, I stretched my senses slowly, scanning the edges of the mines and tunnels. No signs of movement. Not a single elite shinobi had been dispatched to investigate.
Odd, given how strict the Land of Iron was about securing their underground mining operations.
Whatever it was above, it must have been a big deal for them to be not focussing on me at all...
I looked down at the ore in my hand. It was the one Apollo had given me—not just rare, but unique in its energy signature. I didn't know what sort of resonance it would produce when refined, but whatever it was, it wasn't something I wanted falling into the wrong hands.
Without wasting time, I pulled one of my spare storage scrolls from my belt pouch, unsealed it with a touch of chakra, and gently placed the ore inside before sealing it again.
Then I looked around.
There were dozens of other ore fragments scattered across the chamber—leftovers from the excavation process, some already fractured, others still raw. I picked through them carefully until I found one that bore enough similarity in texture and weight to pass for the real one, at least visually. I sealed that one in a second scroll, labeling it with a simple numeric tag and tucking both away beneath my cloak.
Without pausing to reassess the situation further, I tapped the chakra suppression seals embedded in my skin—traced just beneath the surface of my wrists, collarbone, and lower back. The moment they activated, my chakra signature dimmed rapidly, compressed down to something between mid-Chunin and low-Jonin levels. Not invisible, but easily dismissible.
Then, placing both palms onto the cave floor, I activated the Earth-Style: Tunneling Technique. The stone shifted around me, and with practiced fluidity, I sank beneath the surface and began to make my way upward through the mountain.
The passage to the surface wasn't long, but as I emerged near the upper levels of the mine's outer ring, my sensory technique pulsed sharply in the back of my mind.
Two chakra signatures.
Far above the threshold of any standard Jonin.
Kage-level.
And they weren't alone. Dozens of other signatures hovered near the outskirts of the mining outpost—many of them hovering at the Elite-Jonin range. The distribution was too neat, too evenly spread to be a coincidence. It wasn't a scouting party. It was a formation.
I moved toward the entrance slowly, cloaked still by the last vestiges of my tunneling technique, surfacing just behind a large outcropping of ore near one of the abandoned side corridors. I could see movement above—figures descending in a carefully coordinated line, cloaks billowing slightly with each step.
It took only a second to identify them.
The red clouds were unmistakable.
Akatsuki.
I exhaled through my nose, steady and quiet. They weren't a faction that showed up casually or out of curiosity. If they were here, something was moving.
And I had just returned from something no one else in this world had yet experienced.
'Not ideal,' I thought, fingers brushing lightly over the seals on my arm.
Whatever happened next, I needed to stay sharp.
"Kanzō Rikuya, Shirogane Mei."
The names were spoken with sharp precision by a man who appeared to be the commanding officer of the defense forces gathered near the mine's surface. His voice carried the kind of practiced authority that made subordinates react on instinct alone, and despite the tension around him, there was no fear in how he spoke.
He took one step forward, his cloak rippling in the wind, and addressed the two rogue shinobi standing at the head of the incoming group.
"You two, as S-rank missing-nin, have no right to set foot in the Land of Iron—let alone this sacred ground. You are in violation of multiple accords signed by your own villages and ours. And by direct order of the Shogun himself, if you take one more step forward, we will be forced to execute you."
I was impressed—not necessarily by the man's bravado, but by the sheer control he maintained in the face of overwhelming danger. His words, though formal, were clear. He meant what he said.
Then Kanzō laughed.
It wasn't a loud laugh, not theatrical or derisive, but a dry, unimpressed sort of chuckle that seemed to scrape at the air.
"Shirogane," he said, tilting his head lazily, "they really think they can challenge us. Us. As if they're even in the same category."
He turned his gaze toward the gathered shinobi—Jonin, Elite Jonin, some already gripping their weapons tightly in mounting frustration.
"We're not tourists here. We're not merchants you can scare off with threats. We are actual shinobi. Trained in jutsu, survival, warfare. You? You lot swing steel and chant about honor, pretending that makes you warriors."
He paused for effect, then scoffed.
"And the funniest part is most of your actual combatants don't even use real swords. So what does that make you? Cosplayers with delusions of grandeur?"
The insult cut deep. I could see it in the way every single shinobi nearby stiffened. Their faces tensed. Their chakra spiked. And yet, none of them moved. Not because they lacked conviction, but because every single one of them knew what it meant to stand against an S-rank criminal. Words didn't change reality. Rank did.
Kanzō raised a hand and looked past them.
"We're just here to collapse your mine. Nothing personal. Move, and maybe we'll leave your corpses mostly intact."
That was when the commander could no longer stay still. With a sharp hiss of steel against lacquered wood, he unsheathed his katana, its edge gleaming faintly in the grey morning light.
"You have been warned," he said, and then dashed forward, chakra lacing his feet as he prepared a strike meant to end things before they began.
Kanzō didn't respond. He didn't take a stance. He didn't draw a weapon. He simply raised one fist into the air, fingers curling slowly into a compact, focused clench.
The chakra that burst from that simple motion hit me like a wall.
Even from a distance, it wasn't something I felt in my skin or ears—it was something my instincts screamed into every nerve ending I had.
'Run.'
There was no thought, no hesitation.
My hands moved to the suppression seals at my wrist, breaking them in sequence. My chakra surged upward immediately. The strain was nothing new. Pain came with the territory.
"Seventh Gate—Open!"
In a single motion, I vanished from where I stood, moving as fast as I possibly could in the complete opposite direction of the battlefield. I didn't look back.
Not until the words reached me.
"Let's see if you can take one singular strike of mine."
Then the world behind me detonated.
A soundless moment followed by a concussive roar that rolled across the entire landscape like a natural disaster. The sky itself seemed to lurch.
I stopped running only when I had crossed several hundred meters in the span of a few seconds. I turned, breath sharp, and saw—
Nothing.
Where the mine had stood just moments earlier, there was now only a vast, blackened crater, edges still glowing with residual heat. Whatever had happened there hadn't been a fight.
It had been erased.
The mine was gone.
…
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator