"It's finally over."Uchiha Jinzō dropped to the ground, exhausted. His chest heaved as he realized the ugly truth — he'd taken a massive loss.
Most of the chakra he'd carefully stockpiled over years? Burned away. Barely a fifth remained. Thanks a lot, Grandma.
Worse, the battle had drilled something else into his skull: the sheer gap between himself and real shinobi. Their moves weren't wild swings — they were step after step, one setup feeding into the next, a trap layered under every strike. Miss a beat and you were dead, unless you had some miraculous ability to flip the board.
Jinzō didn't. Not yet.This kind of combat couldn't be faked with a "cheat ability." You only got there by bleeding through fights, one scar at a time.
And yeah. That sucked.
"Why the hell were Iwa-nin even here?" Kushina muttered, frowning.
"Pretty obvious, isn't it? Sneak in, raid, vanish." Jinzō eyed the charred corpse of the jōnin he'd just downed. The man stood frozen like a burnt-out scarecrow. Creepy.
"Hold up—Jiraiya-sensei said not to touch corpses!" Minato warned sharply.
"Relax." Jinzō waved him off. "Guy's fried black. No way he had time to set traps or slip in an exploding tag."
He cared about his life too much to play dumb hero. If there'd been even a whiff of danger, he'd have sent in a clone first.
A few prods with his kunai turned up nothing useful. Just some scorched red ninja tools, barely salvageable. Jinzō grimaced. "Cheap junk."
Still, he turned one over in his hands and tossed a look at Kushina. "Pretty sure this guy's your culprit."
Her eyes went wide. "What—? Them?!" She bolted over, staring down at the corpse.
The memory hit all three at once — that village they'd passed, wiped off the map. Everyone dead except one little girl. That was the moment the three of them nearly came apart at the seams.
Kushina's glare swung back to Jinzō, suspicion written all over her face. She hadn't forgotten his cold pragmatism.
Minato stayed silent, thoughtful, piecing details together.
"But… what about the loot?" Kushina frowned. "You said all the village's property was stolen, but this guy didn't have a single coin on him."
"Then ask the village chief." Jinzō's voice went cold. His Sharingan glowed faintly crimson as he stood over the corpse.
He wasn't smiling.
Betray him, and you paid. Didn't matter if you were shinobi or civilian. Even Hokage wouldn't be exempt — once he was strong enough to cash the check.
The village chief hadn't slept a wink. By dawn, he sat at his table, pouring tea to calm his nerves. The first sip never came.
"Still thirsty?" a voice cut through the shadows.
He spat tea everywhere, fumbling for the oil lamp. The sudden light revealed three figures inside his room.
Jinzō leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Kushina dangled upside-down from the ceiling beams. Minato stood at the window, blocking escape.
The chief's fake smile cracked. "L-Late night visit, honored shinobi-sama?"
The three kids' faces didn't shift. Cold. Impassive. The kind of look that said don't even try to lie.
"If it's money you want," the chief babbled, voice trembling, "our village isn't rich, but we'll scrape together what we can—"
"Cut the crap." Jinzō's sneer shut him down.
Kushina's fists clenched. Minato said nothing.
"You tipped off Iwa-nin about us." Jinzō's words hit like blades.
The chief collapsed to his knees, forehead smashing against the floor as he sobbed. "Wrongly accused! I never saw any Iwa ninja!"
Jinzō squatted in front of him, voice low and even. "I was suspicious from the start. Villages don't survive in crossroads like this without a reason. You couldn't pay in coin. You couldn't bribe with jutsu. So what did you trade?"
The man's lips trembled. Jinzō cut him off.
"Information. That's all you had. And don't play dumb — you knew Konoha wouldn't slaughter Fire Country civilians. That's the only reason you've lasted this long. But the other villages? Grass, Taki, Iwa? They'd never let this place sit unclaimed. You sold them intel to buy mercy."
Kushina's breath caught. "That's why those Iwa-nin raided other villages! They needed cash, so they hit everyone nearby. Then once they'd paid up…"
"You gave them us," Minato finished quietly.
The room fell silent. Then the chief broke it, roaring through bloodshot eyes.
"We just want to live! What's wrong with that?!" Spit flew as he shook, voice ragged. "You shinobi destroy our homes whenever you want! Why can't we use you to keep ours standing?!"
For once, Jinzō had no comeback. The ugly truth of the Land Observation Law flashed through his mind: civilians chained to their land, forbidden to flee. A law meant to "control ninja" that had only doomed commoners.
Kushina's voice cracked. "But you let them butcher other villages! Kids—families—!"
"We just want to survive," the man whispered, hollow.
Jinzō sighed. "And now you won't."
The chief's head snapped up, feral, eyes bloodshot. "What do you—"
"You think betraying Konoha comes cheap?" Jinzō's tone was ice.
Outside, the sound of boots hitting dirt echoed. He opened the door. Dawn broke over the treeline — and green-vested Konoha shinobi stood on the branches, looking down at the village like hawks.
A kunoichi with inked markings crouched on a massive black hound, licking her nails with a predator's grin.
Her voice cut the morning stillness.
"Leave no one alive."
The slaughter began.
Later, at Konoha's new frontline post, Jinzō stacked scrolls onto the desk.
"Uh… Jinzō? What are you doing?" Minato asked.
"Trading ninjutsu for merit points, obviously."
The clerk gawked at the pile — all freshly created techniques. "Y-you… want to exchange this? Here? On the frontlines?!"
"Can't I?" Jinzō asked innocently.
"Well… it has to go back to the village for review first…" the clerk stammered, dazed.
Outrageous. People usually brought back heads. Not original ninjutsu blueprints.
Minato's jaw hung open, drooling over the stack.
"They're useless to me. Pick something from the catalog if you want to learn." Jinzō shrugged. For him, it was just a three-for-one deal: merits, resources, and building his image as Konoha's R&D prodigy.
Maybe, just maybe, it'd earn him a ticket back from the frontlines.
"…How's Kushina?" Jinzō finally asked.
"She still hasn't recovered. Even with her chunin promotion, she's… not herself."
Jinzō exhaled slowly. That night had scarred her deeply.
It had scarred all of them.
But they'd killed a jōnin. And Jinzō had stepped up another rank.
Chunin.