A few days had passed.
One of Jaxon's subordinates, a masked shinobi, entered the room swiftly and knelt before him. "Young Master, a ninja claiming to be from Root has arrived. He said he was ordered to deliver this scroll to you."
Jaxon's eyebrows lifted slightly.
Already? He had only concluded his agreement with Danzo three days ago. Not a single coin of the promised investment had yet been transferred, and the equipment hadn't even left storage. Danzo, it seemed, was even more impatient than Jaxon had imagined.
Still, he knew exactly what the scroll contained.
With a calm expression, Jaxon glanced at the masked subordinate and gave a casual nod. "Bring it over. Check to confirm it matches the contents of our agreement."
"Yes, Young Master."
The shinobi respectfully opened the scroll. At its center, surrounded by a network of inked black symbols, was the prominent kanji for "seal."
As soon as he infused his chakra into the scroll, a loud bang echoed—followed by a puff of smoke. When the haze cleared, a large pile of smaller scrolls had materialized in front of them.
"Young Master," the man said excitedly, "inside are five types of elemental Ninjutsu—Wind, Lightning, Water, Fire, and Earth. Among them, there are 50 D-rank, 30 C-rank, 10 B-rank, and 5 A-rank techniques."
His voice trembled slightly, and his eyes shone with awe. This wasn't just a transaction—it was a fortune laid bare before him.
This shinobi was a former rogue ninja from the Hidden Sand Village, codenamed Fox. Once an elite Chunin, he had been recruited by Jaxon through the black market. Under Jaxon's protection and with a steady supply of resources, he had climbed the ranks to become a true elite Jonin.
Now, looking at the treasure trove of scrolls spread before him, Fox was visibly overwhelmed.
Hundreds of Ninjutsu techniques... Any small hidden village could rise to regional prominence with just a fraction of this collection. Grass Village, Waterfall Village—places like those would kill for a single A-rank jutsu. What lay before him now was more than they could ever hope to collect in generations.
Jaxon, observing him, chuckled slightly. "Fox," he said, "feel free to choose a few Ninjutsu to learn, but don't get greedy. You won't be able to digest all of it at once."
His voice was calm, but his gaze was firm. "Once you've picked and trained with them, organize these scrolls and send them back to the family archives. Others will need them too."
Fox's throat tightened, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
This was trust. No village in the shinobi world would allow a subordinate—even a high-ranking one—to touch, let alone choose from, their Ninjutsu vault. The fact that Jaxon was allowing him such freedom meant only one thing: he saw value in him.
"I understand, Young Master!" Fox bowed deeply, his voice hoarse from emotion. "I will not disappoint you!"
The thought flashed through his mind: If I could learn a few, I could even pass one down to my son...
---
Meanwhile, deep within Konoha Village, at the central hospital.
The corridors were a hive of urgency. White-robed doctors rushed between rooms, nurses delivered medications, and patients groaned on stretchers. The building was alive with tension and pain.
But at the far end of the east wing, a long hallway led to a quiet, sealed chamber.
This place was utterly silent. Like a forgotten corner of the hospital, it felt cut off from the chaos of the outside world.
Behind the reinforced door was a single, expansive room—cold, dim, and lined with medical equipment.
Lying in the center, her body covered in white bandages, was Uzumaki Kushina.
Her brilliant red hair was dull and tangled, spread across the pillow like withered leaves. Her arms were wrapped tightly in gauze, with faint bloodstains visible near the joints. Her once vibrant face was pale, almost ghostly, drained of life and spirit.
Her eyes, once fierce and burning with vitality, were now dull and hollow.
Not far from her bedside, a man sat slouched in a chair, unmoving. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with dark circles—signs of many sleepless nights.
Minato Namikaze.
The Fourth Hokage.
He hadn't left her side in days.
He hadn't shaved. He hadn't eaten properly. He had refused even his own ANBU's advice to rest. The only thing he cared about was Kushina.
When she had finally woken from her coma, he had rushed to her side, trembling with relief and guilt. But what awaited him… wasn't forgiveness.
It was a blade of words that cut deeper than any kunai.
"Were you trying to kill me?"
Her voice had been flat, drained of emotion—but every syllable was sharper than steel.
Minato had frozen. He couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Yes? No? What answer could possibly make it right?
He stood in stunned silence, shoulders heavy with shame. The words he had prepared evaporated from his mind.
Eventually, he sat down again, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the cold floor.
"I'm sorry, Kushina," he said softly. "I know... there's no excuse. No words that can make this right. But if the Nine-Tails had broken free, the entire village would've..."
He didn't finish the sentence.
He couldn't.
Even now, his voice was filled with regret—but more than that, helplessness. He had been forced to make a choice. And in doing so, he had broken her heart.
Kushina didn't reply. She didn't scream or lash out.
She simply wept.
Her tears were quiet, falling steadily from the corners of her eyes onto the hospital bed. She didn't sob or tremble—she just stared at the ceiling, letting it all fall away.
She didn't hate Minato. Not really.
She understood why he had done it.
But understanding didn't stop the pain. Knowing he had chosen the village over her—again—left a wound deeper than any injury her body had endured.
He had made the "right" choice.
But it hadn't been the right one for her.
For the first time, the indomitable Kushina felt... empty.
---
Back at the villa, Jaxon stood before the scrolls, watching Fox reverently catalog them. His mind, however, was already elsewhere.
Everything was moving.
The gears were turning.
Danzo had kept his end of the deal—for now.
Soon, the equipment would arrive from the Land of Lightning. His subordinates would be armed with hundreds of new Ninjutsu. The research project would begin in secret. Konoha would become more reliant on him with each passing day.
And through it all, Jaxon remained calm, calculating.
Power isn't just strength, he mused. It's leverage. And I'm about to control both.
---
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