Heading straight north out of the Land of Kawamoto, Hane Genma arrived in a remote, secluded town.
Over this recent period, the formation and rapid expansion of the Yinghuo Organization—now a formidable regional powerhouse—had brought a sense of stability to the interior of the Land of Kawamoto. However, its outward expansion had thrown the surrounding borders into deeper turmoil. The immediate consequence of this shift was a massive redistribution of the population. Those who could secure entry into the Land of Kawamoto had already done so long ago. Meanwhile, those unable to seek refuge there for various reasons naturally migrated further into the frontier.
Because Yinghuo was not the only faction driving these shifts, these once-isolated border towns unexpectedly experienced a minor economic boom due to the sudden influx of displaced people.
It was in one of these very towns that Genma sat quietly in the corner of a bustling tavern. Wearing a low-brimmed bamboo hat to obscure his face, he perked up his ears, subtly eavesdropping on the conversations of the nearby patrons.
"Have you heard? The famous Hagoromo clan has been completely wiped out."
"Yeah, I heard. The news sounds absolutely unbelievable, but that's just the state of the world we live in now... Even a shinobi clan that powerful can vanish overnight."
"I've got an even bigger piece of inside information," another man whispered, intentionally lowering his voice to heighten the mystery. "In the downfall of the Hagoromo, the Yinghuo Organization and the 'Flame Shadow' played a pivotal role."
"Huh? No way. That shinobi and his organization are just a bunch of local backwater rogues. How could they possibly possess the strength to successfully launch an assault on the Hagoromo clan?"
"You shouldn't underestimate him. We all know how utterly ruthless that shinobi is. It's foolish to completely dismiss his capability."
"But compared to the Hagoromo, they are weak. That's not underestimating them, it's just a fact."
"No, no, you've all got it wrong. I heard from a reliable source that the primary force behind the Hagoromo's eradication was actually the Senju clan. When the conflict erupted, numerous other shinobi clans joined the fray, and it was the Senju who rallied them all together."
"You mean Tobirama, right?"
"The Senju clan... truly terrifying. No wonder the Hagoromo didn't even get a chance to flee."
"Hmph, a bunch of local, nameless shinobi trying to insert themselves into high-level plays like that? They can keep dreaming."
Genma: "..."
He had originally intended to gauge whether the civilian population's tolerance for this chaotic era of warring states had reached its breaking point. He hadn't expected to reap such an entertaining harvest of gossip.
As it turned out, his tactical decision to impersonate Tobirama and orchestrate the coalition against the Hagoromo under the banner of the Senju clan had been entirely correct. It wasn't that Genma inherently loved stirring up trouble for the sake of it; rather, he had long anticipated how the aftermath would play out.
If a major power like the Hagoromo was annihilated, a massive amount of political blame would inevitably be distributed across the landscape. Genma had absolutely no desire to take the fall as the primary scapegoat. Aggressiveness in military action was one thing, but maintaining a reputation for unprovoked tyranny was another. The Senju clan clearly didn't want to be branded as inherently predatory either, as that would make them a target of universal ostracization.
Consequently, in their post-war damage control and propaganda, the Senju would undoubtedly attempt to shift the blame outward. The only issue was finding a suitable target. They couldn't very well pin it on their long-term allies or prospective coalitions—who would willingly partner with them after that? Under those parameters, a mid-sized entity like the Yinghuo Organization was the perfect scapegoat.
While Hashirama would undoubtedly abhor such underhanded tactics, if Butsuma didn't resort to them, he wouldn't be the leader of the Senju.
Yet, the credibility of these calculated rumors was fundamentally flimsy. The undeniable truth remained that the hammer blow dealt to the Hagoromo came from the Senju, and the mastermind actively coordinating the various clans across the landscape was Tobirama. With such glaring facts laid bare before the shinobi world, the Senju clan had very little room for plausible deniability.
Genma silently retracted his gaze, a faint smirk playing beneath his hat. Hmph, they say the bird that sticks out gets shot, but I never exposed my head in the first place. The actions of the Senju clan would ultimately be judged by history.
These kinds of political machinations were entirely standard. Even among genuine allies, mutual calculations and subtle betrayals were commonplace, let alone in a mere temporary partnership. The Senju's play was textbook, but Genma simply operated a step ahead.
...
What surprised Genma was how remarkably well-informed these civilians actually were. Ordinary refugees rarely possessed the luxury or the network to track the geopolitical movements of major shinobi clans. However, judging by their palpable hostility, resentment, and underlying dread toward both himself and the Yinghuo Organization, Genma had good reason to suspect these individuals were disgraced aristocrats and nobles who had been systematically purged from the Land of Kawamoto. There might even be a displaced Daimyo or two among them.
Driven by basic survival instincts, keeping close tabs on the trajectories of the shinobi world and Yinghuo was only logical for them—after all, they needed to know precisely when to pack up and flee again.
Having gathered the intelligence he wanted, Genma had no intention of wasting his time on ordinary people who couldn't even wield chakra. He quietly departed from the tavern, his steps light and swift as he distanced himself from the town, heading further north into the central region of the continent.
The Senju clan actually thinks they can wash themselves clean? Genma amused himself with the thought. They clearly haven't realized how dark Tobirama already is. Stand too close to the ink, and you're bound to get stained.
Strangely enough, though the town he just left was close to the continent's center—a geographic location that should logically serve as a thriving, interconnected hub for the shinobi world—it was widely referred to as a desolate borderland.
Those who understood the underlying reasons knew exactly why. Black Zetsu and a massive vanguard of White Zetsu had effectively entrenched themselves within the territory that would later be known as the Land of Rain.
The moment Genma crossed into this specific perimeter, he seamlessly executed a stealthy $Kagerō$(Mayfly Jutsu). Leveraging the unique, one-way sensory perception he had acquired, he prepared to initiate a systematic cull of the White Zetsu population.
In his previous encounters, Genma had operated like a thief in the night, strictly utilizing hit-and-run tactics. This time, however, things were different. Having firmly established a persona capable of detecting their presence, he could openly rob and slaughter them without pretense. Even if his aggressive actions were fully exposed to Black Zetsu, the entity wouldn't find his motivations surprising. It would look like nothing more than direct retaliation for recent provocations, and Black Zetsu would undoubtedly rationalize how Genma had managed to pinpoint their stronghold.
As for the notoriously low drop rate regarding extracting attributes from White Zetsu clones, Genma had already mentally prepared himself before arriving. He had no intention of leaving this forest until his harvest was sufficient. If the success rate is low, then I will simply force it through sheer volume.
Deep within the perpetually mist-shrouded, lush primordial forests of the region, Genma patrolled and ambushed with cold efficiency. It wasn't long before he isolated a lone White Zetsu operating away from the collective.
The execution itself required no grand description; the entire sequence concluded in an instant: Immediate Refinement.
Yet reality rarely follows a predictable script. Just as Genma braced himself for a long, grueling grind, an unexpected anomaly occurred—and for once, fortune favored him.
"Wind? Such a rare and highly versatile elemental affinity, and it drops on the very first try? What an excellent specimen!"
Genma hadn't anticipated unlocking a new affinity right out of the gate, let alone the highly offensive Wind nature. Reveling in this initial stroke of luck, he pulled out a storage scroll and meticulously sealed the physical remains away, preserving the corpse for future utility.
Following that spectacular start, however, the extraction efficiency corrected itself back to its brutal baseline. Over the course of his next several ambushes, the selfless sacrifices of the White Zetsu clones yielded nothing more than marginal increments to Genma's base physical constitution. But persistence eventually bore fruit.
Day Two: Three White Zetsu clones were navigating rapidly through the subterranean soil strata using Kagerō. In the next instant, their signatures abruptly vanished from the network entirely, as though they had suddenly transitioned into an alternate dimension. In a sense, that assessment wasn't incorrect—the Pure Land was indeed another world.
Day Four: During a sudden sun shower, a cluster of six to seven White Zetsus had partially embedded themselves high up on the branches of a massive tree, seemingly absorbing the ambient rainwater and sunlight to replenish their energy. Suddenly, a figure erupted vertically from the forest floor directly beneath them. Genma soared upward, into the heart of the cluster, and violently snatched them out of the canopy in one fluid motion. "Enjoying the sun? Let me help you get a little closer to it."
Having thoroughly analyzed the biological habits of the White Zetsu over this period, Genma discovered that these entities didn't maintain a relentless, round-the-clock work ethic. They actually possessed a localized downtime mechanism that allowed them to leisure about.
If you're off the clock, Genma thought, then you might as well retire permanently.
Maintaining an absolute advantage in both raw combat prowess and intelligence, Genma found the process of neutralizing the White Zetsu clones to be no more difficult than harvesting crops. Combined with the fact that he was operating within their highest density zone, his operational efficiency was staggering.
Within four to five days, the number of confirmed White Zetsu casualties skyrocketed into the triple digits. This accounted for nearly a tenth of their active regional collective. Perpetrating a slaughter on such a blatant scale meant it was mathematically impossible for Black Zetsu and the prime White Zetsu avatar to ignore the disruption.
...
Deep within a subterranean cavern hidden in the recesses of the rainforest, the prime White Zetsu spoke, its tone uncharacteristically grave.
"It's confirmed. Unlike the vague rumors from before, someone is actively and systematically hunting us down with clear intent."
"Your reaction speed is deteriorating," Black Zetsu hissed from the shadows.
"Deteriorating? Weren't you the one who insisted on suppressing the information to facilitate further observation? You wanted to ascertain exactly how precise the enemy's tracking capabilities were!"
The prime White Zetsu immediately fired back, refusing to take the fall for the tactical blunder. This black sludge is truly malicious. How can he try to pin this failure on me? I detected the anomaly days ago; it was his explicit directive to continue using the clones as disposable scouts to test the perimeter.
Black Zetsu completely ignored the retort, its voice dropping into a cold rasp. "There is only one individual capable of orchestrating an assault of this nature."
"Genma," White Zetsu supplied immediately, knowing the answer. "This current era appears fundamentally anomalous compared to the prior millennium we've navigated. To think a shinobi could emerge who possesses the specific capacity to perceive our network and actively hunt us down."
Black Zetsu spoke as though Genma's abrupt rise and retaliatory campaign were merely an unpredictable natural disaster.
"This is a direct consequence of your strategic miscalculation," White Zetsu countered sharply, emboldened by the sheer scale of their losses. "You formulated that infiltration initiative without conducting a thorough assessment of the target's hidden capabilities and existential threat level. Now, his actions are transparently motivated by pure vengeance. This has absolutely nothing to do with the execution of the Grand Plan."
The dramatic reduction of the collective's numbers was severely bottlenecking the long-term implementation of their ultimate goal, and the accountability rested squarely on Black Zetsu's shoulders. Accustomed to operating with absolute invisibility for centuries, Black Zetsu had grown arrogant and reckless. Now, their existence had been compromised, and they were facing the consequences.
Finding no logical counterargument, Black Zetsu lapsed into an ominous silence. At that moment, it silently resolved that this particular avatar was becoming entirely too liabilities-prone.
"The pressing issue is our immediate course of action," White Zetsu pressed.
"Rest assured. I have already engineered a definitive countermeasure."
"Without the Rinnegan, our martial capacity is practically nonexistent," White Zetsu reminded him dryly. "Both you and I are essentially hollow shells. We lack the actual combat metrics required to engage a high-tier shinobi in direct confrontation."
"I am well aware. And as I stated, the plan is already set."
"But—"
"Silence. Must I repeat myself a third time?"
In truth, repetitions were irrelevant; the prime White Zetsu had clearly lost all confidence in Black Zetsu's intellectual acumen. According to our structural division of labor, I function as the limbs while you operate as the brain. The limbs have consistently executed their directives flawlessly. But the brain? The brain appears to be suffering from functional paralysis.
....
By the following day, Genma noticed that the surrounding White Zetsu signatures had completely vanished from his sensory grid.
Did I overhunt the area?
He knew that wasn't the case. Black Zetsu and the prime avatar had obviously enacted emergency protocols; they couldn't simply stand by and allow him to bleed their numbers dry indefinitely.
Taking stock of his accumulated spoils, Genma noted that his physical constitution metrics had effectively scaled past the 5+ threshold—roughly five times the vitality and endurance of a standard shinobi. This baseline comfortably placed his physical reserves on par with the elite powerhouses of the continent's major founding clans.
Furthermore, regarding his elemental chakra affinities, while the drop rate had remained abysmally low, the absolute volume of his extractions had balanced the scales. Beyond the initial Wind affinity, he had successfully integrated three additional extractions: Wind, Water, Water, and Lightning.
Setting aside the prospective future synthesis of advanced Kekkei Genkai, the raw foundational yield alone was spectacular. Though the seeds of this harvest had been sown by Kaguya a thousand years ago, Genma was more than satisfied to reap the benefits now.
With this final sequence of refinements concluded, Genma had officially evolved into a rare shinobi possessing all five basic elemental chakra natures, effectively catching up to the innate genetic talent that Sarutobi Sasuke possessed at birth.
Logically, having secured such an immense haul, the prudent move was to withdraw from the sector. It was always wise to leave your opponents a bit of breathing room to ensure future encounters remained viable.
However, after brief deliberation, Genma decided he couldn't leave without paying a personal visit to Black Zetsu. He was deeply curious to see if the prime White Zetsu avatar possessed any unique biological properties compared to its standard clones.
Theoretically, they should be identical, but he wanted to verify it firsthand.
He shifted his parameters to actively track the prime signatures. Curiously, despite knowing an elite predator was hunting them down, Black Zetsu and the prime avatar had chosen to remain within the immediate sector.
Before long, Genma located their position.
Deep within an ancient, subterranean vault that had been meticulously preserved to project an aura of profound antiquity and cosmic significance, the prime White Zetsu sat perfectly cross-legged on the stone floor. One half of its pale body was completely engulfed and blackened by the fluid form of Black Zetsu.
The stark, dual-colored silhouette sat in absolute stillness. Enveloped by the ominous, archaic atmosphere of the cavern, the entity looked like a twisted, primordial deity.
Had Genma not been intimately familiar with their true nature and origins, he might have actually been deceived by the theatrical display.
Playing god in the dark? Do they honestly believe I care about their theatrics?
Ignoring the carefully cultivated atmosphere entirely, Genma materialized soundlessly from the shadows directly behind the prime avatar. Without a moment's hesitation, he drove his arm forward in a brutal, straight-line piercing strike—a text-book Black Tiger Heart Strike.
To be fair, Genma possessed no viable means of permanently destroying Black Zetsu at his current power level; neutralizing an immortal manifestation of will typically required high-tier sealing frameworks on the level of $Rikudō Chibaku Tensei$(Six Paths — Chibaku Tensei).
However, he could certainly vent his frustration on Black Zetsu's literal "cat scratching post." In terms of raw structural durability, the prime White Zetsu avatar was no different from its mass-produced clones—it shattered instantly under the force of the impact.
"You... how could you..." the avatar gasped as its form collapsed.
Genma, assuming the dying entity was addressing him, replied nonchalantly, "Even though your forms emit absolutely zero trace of conventional chakra, your underlying malice glows like a beacon in my tracking grid. Locating this chamber was trivial. Now speak—what is your origin? What exactly are you?"
What Genma didn't realize was that the prime White Zetsu's dying words were actually directed at Black Zetsu. The tactical reality of the encounter had completely deviated from the guaranteed "countermeasure" Black Zetsu had promised.
While Black Zetsu's grand strategic capabilities were arguably questionable, manipulating and deceiving his own creation was a simple task.
In that exact split second, Black Zetsu liquefied entirely, detaching from the collapsing husk and flowing across the stone floor like a stream of sentient black ink. It surged straight past Genma.
And with comical speed, it thoroughly coated a massive, ancient stone monument standing directly ahead, staining its face pitch black.
Genma: "..."
Is he seriously that terrified I won't notice the Uchiha Stone Tablet?
Do I look that easily manipulated?
Does he honestly take me for a hot-headed, gullible Uchiha Madara?
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