Chapter 67 - Chapter 68: The Deva Path That Helps You Grow

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This moment revealed a side of Tsukimi Heshu that few had ever seen.

Kabuto saw it. He glimpsed the terrifying true face beneath the man's pleasant mask.

Or perhaps… it wasn't that Kabuto saw it.

It was that Heshu simply didn't bother to hide it from him.

The image of Yakushi Nonō's smile and warm hands surfaced in Kabuto's mind. The mere thought of her turning into a cold corpse cast a deathly shadow over his heart.

He wasn't afraid of dying.

He was afraid of her dying.

"Don't you want to know why I killed Takenouchi?" Kabuto's voice was strained. He had to change Nonō's fate.

"I don't care to know," Heshu replied, his smile sharp. "I only know this: karma is a cycle. Retribution always comes." He tilted his head. "Isn't that right?"

Kabuto said nothing.

"You're lucky." The words burst from Kabuto suddenly.

"You were born with a Kekkei Genkai. With power that makes people value you. With a family willing to adopt you the moment they laid eyes on you."

"You're surrounded by sunlight. Living amid applause and encouragement. Growing up with love and friendship."

"You have no idea," Kabuto snarled, his eyes bloodshot and fixed on Heshu, "what life was like for the rest of us who entered Konoha with you."

"That's it?" Heshu raised an eyebrow. A dismissive flick. "So what? What can you do about it?"

Some things were just destined.

Like the system choosing him, of all people.

Like his acting skills being just good enough.

Without the system, his life might have been worse than Kabuto's.

But there was no 'without.'

"I get the jealousy. I don't get the revenge." Heshu's gaze was flat. "So. The mistakes you made? Someone has to pay for them."

Heshu was no saint. He had no talent for turning the other cheek.

At his core, he was a petty, vindictive, selfish little man. An eternal egoist.

He might sigh at Kabuto's tragic backstory. But that was it.

"Spare Nonō," Kabuto gritted out, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. "Do whatever you want with me."

Bowing to Tsukimi Heshu was the greatest humiliation.

Heshu just laughed and shook his head. "You're worthless to me. The pain I suffered? You get to feel it once."

"She's innocent!" Kabuto's head snapped up, hatred blazing in his eyes.

Heshu pushed his own door open. "When you killed Takenouchi, did you ever think he was innocent?"

SLAM!

The heavy door shut in Kabuto's face.

He stood there, stunned. Staring at the wood. His hands trembled faintly.

Heshu stepped inside his apartment and was immediately hit by the smell of food.

Hanzo, wearing an apron, bustled in and out of the kitchen. The living room table was laden with a feast. Naruto slept soundly in his crib.

Heshu looked at the spotless rooms, then the food. He swallowed.

Yeah. Bringing Hanzo home was the best decision ever.

"Why did you make me wear that deep V-neck dress today?" Hanzo's voice was stiff. He couldn't stop thinking about Hiruzen Sarutobi's lingering stare. It made his skin crawl.

"Worked, didn't it?" Heshu grinned.

"…"

Hanzo chose silence.

Noon. Break time.

Heshu's consciousness shifted. To his Corona Mode Clone, far away in Amegakure.

He blinked. The room was pitch black. Rain Country had no sun to begin with, and the lights were off. He flicked the switch.

Light flooded the space.

He changed clothes and slipped out the door. His figure leaped across rooftops, a blur in the perpetual drizzle, landing moments later before a small, nondescript building.

Shinobi streamed in and out. Different headbands. Different villages.

Heshu looked up. Rusty iron letters were bolted above the door:

MISSION INTRODUCTION OFFICE.

No one gave him a second glance. The ninja here were too busy grabbing mission scrolls, eyes fixed on their own business.

"Posting or taking?" A bored voice came from behind a counter.

Different windows had different attendants. They sat on high stools, surrounded by cabinets stuffed to the brim with scrolls.

"Taking," Heshu said.

"Rank?"

The attendant wore an iron mask. He gave Heshu a cursory once-over.

"I want to see the Bounty Board."

That was the real reason Heshu was here. Nagato's words last time had piqued his curiosity.

The iron-masked ninja finally looked up properly. His gaze swept over Heshu, head to toe. Who knew what he was looking for. The job had taught him not to underestimate anyone.

He nodded. "Wait."

He walked to the back wall, a massive structure covered in scrolls. A mechanical whirring sound started.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Several scrolls descended in a ring formation. Unlike the others, these had portraits on them.

"Look," the attendant said, already back on his stool.

Other ninja in the office paused, drawn to the twenty portraits now displayed on the wall. Whispering broke out.

Heshu's eyes moved from the leftmost portrait.

He recognized quite a few. Sasori. Orochimaru. Tsunade. Jiraiya… even Yugito Nii and Mei Terumi.

His gaze settled on the portrait in the very center.

Okay. Let's be honest. This one was… abstract.

A long nose. A huge mouth. A horse-like face. Buck teeth.

Who the hell was this?

And why was this ugly bastard occupying the number one spot?

Heshu's eyes dropped to the bottom of the portrait, where the target's name was usually written.

Pffft—!

Heshu had bought a drink on the way. Now, he sprayed it everywhere.

The iron-masked attendant in the center calmly wiped his face. "When you leave, please pay the service fee." He pointed to a wooden sign leaning against the cabinet.

It read:

Causing injury to staff incurs additional service fees.

"…"

Heshu's jaw hung open.

Forget the 'advanced' nature of this place. The most absurd thing right now was the name written under that portrait.

Target: Tsukimi Heshu.

"…"

What twisted soul painted this?

The Flower of Konoha had been rendered as some nightmarish… thing.

So rude!

[Shouldn't the host be more curious about why he's ranked number one?] The system queried.

Heshu repeated the system's question to the attendant.

The attendant was busy cleaning spit out of the seams of his mask. "Tsukimi Heshu of Konoha defeated the Two-Tails and Three-Tails Jinchūriki. Stole intelligence from Kumo and Kiri with ease. The bounty is jointly funded by Cloud and Mist, hence the exorbitant price. Permanently at the top."

"…"

That… was not the reason Heshu expected.

"Does Tsukimi Heshu… really look like this?" Heshu asked the question that truly mattered.

"Ah. That. In the spirit of honest trade, I'll be frank. We don't know his real appearance. Our artist… took some creative liberties. Someone with that much power and arrogance? Probably a hag-like figure. As depicted." The attendant nodded seriously.

"…"

Heshu stared deeply at the portrait.

A hag?

If assassins went by this picture, the only one getting mistakenly killed would be Danzō!

Heshu's eyes slid to the portrait next to his. He froze again.

Bounty number two was Shisui Uchiha.

But this portrait wasn't some deranged abstract art. No. It depicted Shisui as impossibly handsome and dashing.

"I don't understand."

What did he ever do to the artist?

"You don't understand why Shisui Uchiha is number two?" The attendant, ever helpful, misinterpreted his mutter. "The 'Shunshin no Shisui' was originally ranked fifteenth."

"So what happened?" Heshu's curiosity was piqued.

How did Shisui piss someone off enough to jump to second place?

"While the bounty on Shisui himself isn't massive, many ninja who took contracts on Tsukimi Heshu ended up dead by his hand. So his ranking… climbed accordingly."

Heshu was moved. Touched by the strength of their friendship.

So that's why he'd never been ambushed. Shisui had been cleaning them up.

What a bro!

After looking over the entire board, Heshu walked back to the counter to pay.

"How much?"

"Five hundred ryo."

"You're scamming me! The sign says one hundred!" Heshu pointed at the wooden plaque.

Under Heshu's stunned gaze, the attendant calmly flipped the sign over.

The other side read:

Consultation Fee: 100 ryo per question.

No cheating the young or old!

Come ask your questions!

"…"

This was a total rip-off!

Heshu blinked. "Isn't this fraudulent business practices?"

The attendant remained unmoved. "Our establishment operates with integrity!"

"…"

Heshu shook his head. He refused to be scammed. "I don't have money."

The attendant's eyes hardened. "In that case, my apologies. No money? Then leave your body here."

"?"

Heshu tried reasoning. "Look, when I first asked questions, you didn't mention a fee. Now you spring this on me. Isn't that scamming?"

The attendant was a mountain of calm. "These are our business rules."

"…"

Heshu shrugged. "Well then. No choice."

His Corona Clone didn't have a massive five hundred ryo on him. He only had the one hundred ryo allowance Konan gave him—pocket money she'd scrimped and saved from the Akatsuki's meager funds.

How could he splurge that?

One hour later.

Heshu walked out of the Mission Introduction Office, calm and unruffled.

Behind him, ninja lay scattered across the floor.

After his figure vanished, the iron-masked attendant—now sporting a spectacular black eye and swollen face—tremblingly reached out a hand.

His voice shook with fury.

"Notify headquarters! Move Tsukimi Heshu down one spot on the Bounty Board! Give the top spot… to that guy who was just here!"

By the time Heshu returned, Konan and Yahiko—now pierced with black rods and referred to as the Deva Path—were waiting.

"Hanataki, where did you go?" Konan approached, concern in her eyes. Even knowing Hanataki's strength, she still saw him as a kid who needed looking after.

"Ah… just went for a walk." A harmless white lie.

"Let's go." The Deva Path—Yahiko's body stuffed with rods—spoke, his face an emotionless mask.

Konan glanced at the familiar face, lowered her eyes, and nodded.

"Hanataki, we're going to recruit Sasori into the organization. You're coming with us."

"Okay!" Heshu agreed readily.

Three figures shot from the top of the spire and vanished.

Yellow sand swirled.

The red sun sank into the desert horizon. Hot, gritty wind blasted against them, whipping their cloaks.

This was the great desert near Sunagakure, in the Land of Wind.

You had to admit, this was sheer audacity from Sasori.

A missing-nin who killed the Third Kazekage and indirectly sparked the Third Shinobi World War… setting up shop right in Wind Country's backyard.

Pure, unadulterated contempt for Suna's ninja.

"The intel says the location is here," Konan said, scanning the endless dunes.

The Deva Path stood still.

A powerful whirlwind of sand erupted around them, blinding their vision.

Killing intent leaked into the air.

Heshu looked up. As the sand cleared, a dense cloud of poisoned needles and spikes filled the sky, shooting toward them.

The Deva Path raised a hand, utterly calm.

An invisible force of repulsion met the onslaught. Every needle, every spike, froze mid-air. Then clattered harmlessly to the sand.

A short, cloaked figure materialized in the haze before them. A black robe, a bald head adorned with strange protrusions. A curved, metallic scorpion's tail arched over his shoulder, its tip glinting coldly.

"Are you Sasori of the Red Sand?" Konan asked.

Sasori stared. Said nothing.

"We are here to invite you to join our organization. The Akatsuki." Konan continued.

The Deva Path remained silent. Probably thought it made him look cool.

As for Heshu? He had no cool to speak of. His face wouldn't allow it.

"No interest." Sasori's voice was flat, mechanical.

"That is not for you to decide." The Deva Path finally spoke. And damn, it sounded pretentious.

Heshu could see Sasori pause. Not out of fear. Just pure disbelief at the arrogance.

For some reason, an image from his past life flashed in Heshu's mind. A meme. A drawing of Sasori inside his puppet, butt sticking out, operating the controls with comical difficulty.

What you think Sasori looks like:

What he actually looks like:

Pffft! Heshu couldn't hold it in. He snorted, then burst out laughing.

Too damn funny!

He couldn't look at the real Sasori the same way now.

Lost in the mental image, Heshu suddenly felt three pairs of eyes on him.

He looked up.

Konan was watching him, puzzled. The Deva Path's Rinnegan held no readable emotion, but it was fixed on him. And Sasori… was staring right at him.

Sasori didn't know what Heshu was thinking, but his sharp instincts screamed that it was nothing good.

The Deva Path took Konan's hand. In a flash, they were gone.

Leaving Heshu alone, facing Sasori.

"Hanataki?" Konan's confused voice faded as they retreated. Why leave him?

"She is a member of Akatsuki," the Deva Path's voice was calm, reassuring. "She needs to grow. I will ensure no harm comes to her."

"…"

Watching Konan's trusting nod from a distance, Heshu felt a wave of exasperation.

Hey, since you've already retreated, can you let go of Konan's hand, Deva Path?

"A child?" The mechanical face conveyed utter disdain.

Heshu's eye twitched.

Get off your high horse!

Wait until he shredded that cloak. Then they'd see the face that supposedly charmed girls—only slightly uglier than his own, of course!

"I heard you don't have parents. Me too—" Heshu started, aiming for a friendly 'fellow orphan' bonding moment.

[Ding! Favorability with Sasori: -100!]

A new wave of poisoned needles blotted out the sky, aimed directly at him.

Heshu's mouth twitched. "At least let me finish my sentence!" he yelled, already moving.

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