Chapter 19: The Opportunity for Mortals to Slay Gods
The air in the secret room suddenly turned cold, as if even breathing had been frozen.
Behind the immense temptation lay an abyss of near-certain death.
Without any hesitation, a faint rustle of fabric broke the silence. Konan stepped forward, her eyes cold and resolute, and immediately rolled up her cloud-patterned sleeve, exposing a snow-white forearm.
"I'll do it."
Just two words, yet they held an undeniable fierceness. "Yahiko, you need power to suppress everything. If this thing can truly create a god, I will be the first guinea pig."
"I also..." Nagato, sitting in the wheelchair, had just opened his mouth when he was interrupted by a furious roar.
"Idiot!"
Yahiko suddenly reached out, gripping Konan's wrist tightly like an iron clamp. The force was so great that her skin immediately turned red.
He shoved Konan back behind him, a violent red light flashing in his eyes.
"Who gave you the nerve to gamble my trump card away?"
Yahiko stared at Konan's stubborn face, his voice deep as thunder: "Listen well, what I want to establish is a Divine Kingdom, not a Martyrs' Cemetery! You are the 'Kings' who will stand on the clouds in the future, not the 'Pawns' used to scout the path!"
"But..."
"Shut up." Yahiko twirled the arrowhead emitting a strange golden light between his fingers, the warmth in his eyes instantly replaced by extreme coldness. "Test subjects? We have as many as we want."
The scheming faces of the old men in the conference room flashed through his mind.
"The Hidden Rain Village doesn't need fence-sitters." Yahiko cracked a cruel smile. "Those pieces of trash still nostalgic for the old era can put their remaining potential to good use. Becoming the 'fertilizer' for the foundation of the new world is the greatest honor of their lives."
...Time flew by, and in this year, the structure of the Ninja World quietly underwent drastic changes.
Spring, Konoha Year 51.
The Hidden Rain Village, once perpetually overcast and decaying like a corpse, now had its night sky shattered by neon lights.
It was no longer a closed-off island, but had become the "Las Vegas" of the Ninja World.
As long as you had money, rogue Ninja could buy top-tier luxury here, and wanted criminals could buy legal identities.
In the casinos, the crisp sound of gold coins dropping into pockets drowned out the thunder; in the red-light district, the scent of makeup neutralized the smell of rust in the air; and at the mission center, as long as the price was right, people you didn't want to see could vanish without a trace.
This was the new order established by the Akatsuki—chaotic, yet incredibly profitable.
Of course, there were also clueless wandering Ninja who tried to get a piece of the action.
But when their corpses hung like wind chimes all over the main bridge entrance, washed by the rain until they were bare white bones, everyone shuddered, remembering: the legendary "Demigod" still coldly watched the Mortal world from the clouds... Deep beneath Amegakure, the Akatsuki Forbidden Land.
There were no neon lights here, only bone-chilling cold. The massive Gedo Statue was hidden in the darkness, its nine tightly closed eyes seeming ready to open at any moment to scrutinize the invading ants.
Maeda was prostrate on the ground, resembling a trembling mountain of flesh.
This year, as the "white glove" of the Akatsuki, he was the powerful "God of Wealth" on the surface, his custom suit so tight the buttons threatened to pop off, and his ten fingers were covered in jeweled rings.
But the moment he walked through this door, he felt he was less than a dog.
On the high platform, three figures looked down like deities.
On the left, the emaciated Nagato, the purple glow of his Rinnegan freezing the Soul; on the right, the cold and detached Konan, controlling the nation's finances.
And the orange-haired man in the center was carelessly tossing a golden broken arrow.
"Clink—"
The arrowhead bounced up and fell again, the crisp sound seeming to tap on Maeda's bones.
"Maeda, you've done well this year."
Yahiko's voice echoed in the vast hall, giving away no emotion.
"Thud!" Maeda kowtowed so hard it shook the ground, cold sweat instantly soaking his expensive shirt. "It is all the grace of Lord Yahiko! Your subordinate... your subordinate is just a running dog!"
"No need to be modest. You are greedy, but you are indeed useful."
Yahiko chuckled softly and slowly stood up, his black robe with red clouds trailing on the ground like a flowing cloud of blood.
He walked down the steps one by one, each step landing on Maeda's heartbeat.
"But I smell something on you, Maeda." Yahiko stopped in front of him, looking down at the mountain of flesh. "That is the scent of fear."
Maeda trembled all over, his fat jiggling violently.
"You are afraid of the wandering Ninja who come to spend money, afraid of those monsters who can breathe fire and spew water."
Yahiko's voice was like a devil's whisper, precisely cutting open his chest. "You have money, you are the Underground Emperor. But in the eyes of a Ninja, you are just a fat pig ready to be slaughtered at any moment. Without the banner of the Akatsuki, you would have been torn to shreds long ago, wouldn't you?"
Maeda suddenly looked up, his pupils contracting violently.
He had been hit where it hurt!
This was the root of his nightly nightmares—in the face of absolute martial power, money was just waste paper!
"Y-yes, Lord!" Maeda's voice was hoarse and tearful. "I am just a Mortal... in front of a Ninja, a Mortal's very breathing is wrong!"
"What if I said I could give you power no less than a Ninja's?"
Boom!
This sentence was like a clap of thunder, shattering Maeda's sanity.
He widened his eyes, staring intently at the golden broken arrow in Yahiko's hand, his breathing ragged like a broken bellows.
A Mortal... mastering power beyond Chakra?!
"I-is this really possible?"
"If you dare to gamble."
Yahiko slowly lowered the sharp arrowhead until it hovered an inch from Maeda's sweaty forehead. The golden light reflected his twisted face, filled with greed and fear.
"Among the death row inmates in the dungeon, only one out of a hundred survives."
Yahiko's voice was as indifferent as if he were discussing the weather. "To bear this power, you don't need talent or bloodline; you only need one thing—ambition strong enough to overcome death."
The sharp arrow tip pierced the skin between Maeda's eyebrows, and a drop of blood rolled down.
"Maeda, tell me."
"Do you want to be a pig ready to be slaughtered for the rest of your life, or do you want to take a gamble and become a man-eating wolf?"