Chapter 353 — No One Is Anyone's Puppet (Double Length Chapter)
"That's roughly how the matter unfolded, Hokage-sama."
Inside the Hokage's office, Kei and Shikaku stood calmly to one side, while Minato Namikaze carefully read through the mission report in his hands.
The report had been submitted by Kei himself.
It detailed the entire operation carried out in the capital of the Land of Fire—from beginning to end.
From Kei's use of ANBU to quietly spread rumors, to the internal fracture among the guardian shinobi…
From confirming the existence of the Nine-Tails' chakra, to the decisive execution of the ambitious protectors directly in front of the daimyo…
And finally, the public verification that the chakra truly belonged to the Nine-Tails.
Every step meshed seamlessly with the next.
Strictly speaking, Kei's methods were aggressive—almost ruthless.
Yet the returns he brought back were so enormous that even Minato found himself speechless.
Setting aside the "extra" profit Kei had personally squeezed out along the way, the rest of the gains alone were staggering.
Politically and economically, the benefits nearly rivaled half a year's worth of high-level missions.
"Well done, Kei," Minato said at last, closing the report with a quiet sigh.
"But are you sure there won't be backlash? Your approach was… very forceful. Quite different from your usual style."
"I wouldn't say it's different," Kei replied with a faint smile.
"I simply chose a more direct solution this time."
He understood Minato's concern.
Kei rarely acted so openly. Even when he moved decisively, he preferred to stay behind the scenes, guiding events invisibly.
This time, however, he had stepped into the spotlight without hesitation.
Still, as far as he was concerned, the method mattered less than the result.
And frankly, this approach had proven even more efficient than his usual schemes.
"I was hoping you'd be more subtle," Minato chuckled.
"Were you rushing back because of Kimimaro's condition?"
He stamped the report decisively.
"Relax. The kid's doing well. This mission will be logged as S-rank. Honestly, your record is getting absurd—so many high-level missions."
"Is that so?" Kei paused, then nodded.
"I suppose… I really haven't done many low-ranking missions."
Thinking back, his career was borderline insane.
From graduation straight into the battlefield, his record had never been normal.
D-rank missions? Practically nonexistent.
C-rank missions? A handful, at best.
B-rank missions dominated his history—full-scale shinobi engagements where survival was never guaranteed.
A-rank followed naturally whenever conflicts escalated.
As for S-rank…
Kannabi Bridge.
The Kirigakure operation—counted by Minato as three S-rank missions.
And now this.
His already legendary résumé had grown even heavier.
"Still," Shikaku spoke up at last, his voice calm but measured,
"Kei, have you considered how the other daimyō might interpret this? As the Hokage mentioned, your conditions were… harsh."
Kei frowned slightly and turned to him.
"Shikaku, Hokage-sama has already approved my actions. Do you have a different opinion?"
"A small one," Shikaku replied evenly.
"Securing利益 is necessary, but your methods could be seen as excessive. And publicly releasing the Nine-Tails' chakra—if spies spin that narrative…"
"No need to complicate things," Kei interrupted.
"Leaving that power in the open only gives opportunists leverage. Bringing the one who controlled it back instead—that's cleaner, isn't it?"
As he spoke, Kei placed a scroll onto the desk.
Shikaku paused.
Kei shook his head inwardly.
Whatever Shikaku was probing for, it no longer mattered.
Kazuma was already dead.
Kei had originally planned to break his neck and bring the body back personally.
But before the return journey even began, Kazuma had committed suicide in prison.
After Ayaka and Kakashi verified the corpse—comparing injuries sustained prior to imprisonment—they confirmed it was genuine.
So Kei sealed the body and brought it back regardless.
"This is…?" Minato blinked, noticing the single character on the scroll.
"'Corpse'? Is this Kazuma?"
"Yes," Kei nodded.
"He killed himself. Ayaka and Kakashi confirmed his identity. His body still holds value—methods for extracting Nine-Tails' chakra, and irrefutable evidence of his crimes."
"I understand," Minato said quietly, already grasping the implications.
He turned to Shikaku.
"Then I'll leave it to you. It seems the daimyo won't be recovering from this anytime soon."
"I'll have Inoichi examine everything thoroughly," Shikaku replied with a nod.
No one spoke further.
Because by this point, the truth was already clear.
In this game,
no one was anyone else's puppet.
Minato Namikaze nodded.
Although he, too, found Nara Shikaku's attitude somewhat puzzling, he seemed to have realized something on his own and chose not to pursue the matter further.
Turning away, Minato began to think seriously about the daimyo.
As Hokage, he could feel—very clearly—the constraints imposed by the daimyo's authority.
Shikaku had once explained to him that, aside from the First Hokage—
who had perhaps shown the daimyo excessive respect—most Hokage throughout history had never granted the daimyo much real power.
In truth, their positions overlapped heavily in terms of authority.
And such overlap inevitably bred conflict.
In extreme cases, it could even lead to situations where shinobi no longer knew whom they were supposed to obey.
What Kei had done—striking the daimyo so brutally—had effectively elevated the Hokage's standing by an entire tier.
Perhaps this was also because, throughout history, there had never been someone like Kei:
someone so strong, so uncompromising, and so utterly devoid of reverence for the daimyo.
Uchiha Madara might have qualified—but he had lost to Senju Hashirama.
And in that era, the daimyo had been obedient and cautious enough that such problems never surfaced.
"Then I'll leave the details of the negotiations and the clauses to you,"
Kei said once he felt everything had been explained clearly.
"I assume the four basic conditions I set won't be an issue?"
"I'll discuss them carefully with Shikaku," Minato replied with a nod.
"But are you sure you don't want to take part? This was your operation—your perspective would be valuable."
"I think it's fine," Kei said casually, shaking his head.
"With Shikaku around, that should be more than enough."
His gaze briefly lingered on Shikaku, carrying an unreadable expression.
"Ayaka has already taken Kimimaro away. I'd like to check on him."
"Go ahead," Minato said, rubbing his temple.
"Take a few days to rest. Once Kakashi returns, make sure you attend the talks."
Kei nodded.
Though he had little interest in diplomacy, he didn't refuse this time.
After all, negotiations of this level were not something just anyone could attend—even securing an invitation was difficult.
In any case, the talks wouldn't happen for at least a week.
Rumors spread quickly, but no matter how fast, word-of-mouth still took time.
A week was an optimistic estimate—half a month wouldn't have been unusual.
After dispatching a shadow clone to the Police Force headquarters, Kei himself returned to the underground laboratory.
Since coming back yesterday, Ayaka had already resumed her experiments.
Due to time constraints, she couldn't begin serum trials immediately. Early that morning, she had taken Kimimaro away, and Kei wasn't sure how things were progressing.
Shikaku's odd behavior earlier still lingered in his mind—but recalling Ayaka's expression that day made him smile involuntarily.
"What do you mean by 'standing at the summit'?"
Ayaka had looked at him in confusion. "What are you planning now?"
"Nothing special. Just some tests," Kei replied with a grin.
"And I'll need your Byakugan."
Before she could respond, he took her hand.
His eyes instantly transformed into the Mangekyō.
Cold, pitch-black chakra erupted outward, enveloping them both.
In the blink of an eye, the chakra condensed once more into a colossal giant—nearly eighty meters tall.
They hovered together inside the crystal cockpit atop its head.
Now Ayaka finally understood what Kei meant by "standing at the summit."
The sensation was strange—
not quite looking down on all creation, but undeniably stirring, something that made the heart surge.
Still—
She glanced down at their joined hands, her expression conflicted.
"Ready?" Kei's voice sounded beside her ear.
"We're moving. I need your Byakugan to monitor the surroundings—I don't want to be exposed."
"Understood," Ayaka said, lifting her head.
"You're testing Susanoo's speed, right? I'll cooperate."
"…Why do you seem tense?" Kei added thoughtfully.
"Your breathing's shallow, your palm's sweating. Are you nervous? Or—don't tell me—you're afraid of heights?"
"Shut up, you bastard!"
"And if you can feel the sweat, then let go of my hand already!"
---
Ayaka's experimental progress was slow.
After all, she had only just completed what amounted to the first phase.
Before advancing to the second phase, she needed to finalize all preparatory work.
With Kakashi absent, Kimimaro once again returned to following Kei and Ayaka around daily.
He seemed accustomed to it by now.
Kakashi's guidance had also left its mark—Kimimaro no longer felt as cold and distant as before.
That was a good sign.
The stronger his sense of belonging to Konoha, the closer he would naturally grow to it.
As for Ayaka's strength, Kei now had a fairly clear grasp of it.
She was powerful—far stronger than any Hyūga he remembered.
Even Hyūga Hizashi's Edo Tensei incarnation had been impressive.
Yet Ayaka's current combat level surpassed even that.
Most importantly, her understanding of the Gentle Fist had fundamentally shifted.
She no longer adhered rigidly to prescribed forms.
Instead, she fought intuitively—adapting freely to the flow of battle.
Kei deeply approved of this.
Battlefields were chaotic.
Rigid technique raised one's baseline—but it also constrained imagination and adaptability.
True combat mastery meant breaking forms when necessary.
That was the fighting philosophy Kei believed in.
---
"What I wonder is how her Byakugan is developing now…"
Kei pondered quietly.
There was very little concrete data on the Byakugan.
Externally, they all looked nearly identical. Even subtle differences were hard to detect.
At present, improvements mostly manifested as increased visual range.
He had seen that much in Ayaka's reports.
But Kei knew very well how terrifying the Byakugan's true potential was.
Still, complete atavism—returning to the level of the Ōtsutsuki—was probably unrealistic.
And frankly, he didn't even know how strong their Byakugan truly was.
He hadn't studied it carefully in his previous life.
As for things like the Jōgan—he was utterly clueless.
Beyond knowing it was some kind of Byakugan mutation, he knew nothing.
Yet ignorance wasn't the real issue.
What mattered was that the situation could still be changed.
Whether Senju, Uchiha, Uzumaki, Hyūga, or even Kaguya—their ancestors all traced back to the Ōtsutsuki.
Paths to atavism were rare.
But Kei had found one that might work.
I hope she walks the right path, he thought.
Her road is also mine. If she succeeds, so do I.
As long as nothing went wrong, everything would be fine.
Experiments were long and monotonous.
While Ayaka worked steadily on her second phase, Kei focused on strengthening himself.
At his level, improvement was no longer easy.
But his growth had long since transcended ordinary training.
He still maintained daily practice in ninjutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu—
these were the foundations of real combat power.
Yet the true purpose of this training was adaptation.
Under the stimulation of the Nine-Tails' chakra, the fusion progress of his triple-cell structure had surged dramatically.
Once he returned to Konoha and settled down, he clearly felt it—
His chakra was growing explosively.
Without proper training and adjustment, such growth wouldn't cripple him—but it would lower his combat floor.
In addition, after unlocking the fourth stage of Susanoo,
Kei sensed a substantial rise in both the quantity and quality of his ocular power.
Now, using any of his three dōjutsu abilities,
the same expenditure yielded effects several times stronger than before.
The only disappointment was that his ocular recovery speed had stagnated.
Consumption was lower—but regeneration hadn't improved.
Still, this progress was nothing short of astonishing.
Most intriguing of all, he noticed faint afterimages forming within his Mangekyō.
He understood this well.
In their era, the Eternal Mangekyō could only be achieved through completion.
Naturally, overlapping patterns would emerge during that process.
Kei was curious what shape his final pattern would take.
But until the fusion was complete, only he could perceive these shadows.
Others wouldn't see them at all.
---
While Kei and Ayaka immersed themselves in experiments and self-improvement,
Kakashi escorted the daimyo back to Konoha.
After weeks of rumor fermentation—and the beautified retelling of Kei's actions in the palace—
A massive wave swept through the Land of Fire.
Yet it had no negative impact on Konoha.
On the contrary, resentment toward the daimyo's actions burned fiercely among the shinobi.
The trauma of the Nine-Tails' night remained etched into their bones.
Even if Konoha's losses hadn't been catastrophic, no one could forget that monstrous fox rampaging through the village.
Once was more than enough.
And now someone had dared to collect that creature's chakra for personal ambition?
Unforgivable.
Those who put an end to it were praised without exception—
Kei, Ayaka, and Kakashi, now fully integrated into ANBU.
Kei's status in Konoha no longer needed explanation.
His power had reached a significant peak—and he was only fifteen.
If his achievements continued to pile up, the position of Hokage might one day be his.
Curiously—whether intentionally or not—
public discussion centered largely on Kakashi and Ayaka.
Even Kei hadn't anticipated that.
Yet it aligned perfectly with his expectations.
Whether or not the Third Hokage had a hand in it didn't matter.
If he did, Kei would even be grateful.
Because Kei had never sought power through petty matters.
What he needed was stability—
and the strengthening of his partners and inevitable allies.
This operation had already given him what he wanted most:
Power.
Hidden power that no one else could see.
That was his greatest gain.
---
When the daimyo finally arrived in Konoha, he met no one—
until the date of the talks was set.
Only then did Kei see him again.
Few attended the meeting.
But every person present stood at the absolute core of Konoha.
Kei saw the long-absent Third Hokage.
He saw Shikaku—and Shikaku's father.
No one else.
Not even Fugaku Uchiha or Hiashi Hyūga qualified to enter.
The talks were led by Minato and Shikaku.
Minato displayed precisely what a Hokage should be:
Polite yet firm.
Respectful yet unyielding.
He protected Konoha's interests without humiliating the daimyo.
Throughout the entire negotiation, Kei didn't speak once.
Neither did the Third Hokage.
Perhaps it was deliberate—
a unified front when facing outsiders.
Internal power struggles had eased.
But everyone knew the truth:
It was only because the old guard had been heavily wounded.
Once they recovered, they would rise again—
whether through proxies or personally returning to the stage.
That much was inevitable.
What disappointed Kei slightly was that Minato ultimately did not push the daimyo into total ruin.
But given Minato's character, that outcome was only natural.
Kei felt no resentment.
In fact, he supported Minato's choice.
He didn't want a puppet.
He wanted a partner.
Turning the Hokage into a puppet would certainly make things easier—
But it would also drain everything of meaning.
Kei knew better than anyone that he could make mistakes.
He had made many already.
The only reason they went unnoticed was because the results happened to be acceptable.
If he wanted a puppet, he might as well sit on the throne himself.
No one was anyone else's puppet.
They simply shared interests—
while remaining completely independent individuals.