Chapter 30: Chunin Exam Proposal
Sarutobi Hiruzen adjusted his reading glasses—a habit he'd developed lately, though he'd never admit his eyesight was failing—and continued reading the mission report aloud.
"The Rock Ninja Elite Ambush Team suffered the following casualties: eight jonin reduced to one barely breathing survivor, twenty-four chunin whittled down to four walking wounded." He paused, letting the numbers sink in. "In layman's terms, Orochimaru turned them into expensive fertilizer for the Forest of Death."
The tension in the room visibly deflated like a punctured balloon. Sure, Konoha had taken a beating, but Iwagakure had essentially walked face-first into a meat grinder operated by a snake-obsessed psychopath.
The Third Hokage almost felt bad for Ōnoki. Almost. The old Tsuchikage would probably spend the next few months explaining to grieving families why he'd decided to poke the hornet's nest that was Orochimaru without adequate preparation. Strategic miscalculations had a way of becoming very personal very quickly in the ninja world.
"Well done, Orochimaru," Danzo finally spoke up, his voice carrying the enthusiasm of someone complimenting decent weather. Coming from Danzo, this was practically a standing ovation.
Hiruzen nodded approvingly. Nothing quite boosted village morale like turning enemy elite forces into cautionary tales. However, the report wasn't finished painting its grim picture.
"Additionally," Hiruzen continued, his tone shifting, "while our snake charmer was busy redecorating the landscape with Iwa-nin, it appears a jonin slipped through our defenses at the Torimori checkpoint. Result: two chunin KIA, and our resident corpse whisperer Maruyama Qifeng somehow survived another encounter that should have turned him into premium ghost material."
The Hokage's eyes found Orochimaru, who was practically vibrating with interest—like a cat that had spotted something shiny and potentially dangerous to chase.
"That's what young Maruyama claims happened," Orochimaru said, his tongue darting out briefly. It was a nervous tic that made everyone slightly uncomfortable, but no one had the courage to suggest he find a less reptilian way to express curiosity.
Both Hiruzen and Orochimaru knew this dance well. Lightning didn't strike twice in the same place, but apparently hostile jonin had developed a troubling habit of vanishing around one particular genin. First the Kirigakure jonin Kaguya Chiren, now this mysterious Iwagakure operative. The pattern was becoming impossible to ignore—like a series of accidents that happened to occur around the village's most suspiciously lucky janitor.
If once was a coincidence, twice was starting to look like either divine intervention or something that warranted a very uncomfortable conversation with the kid.
Hiruzen caught Orochimaru's eye and gave him a look that said, "We'll discuss this later, preferably somewhere without witnesses." Orochimaru's slight nod confirmed the message was received.
The clan leaders and elite jonin shifted in their seats, trying to process how a genin kept surviving encounters that should have required intensive consultation with the afterlife. Everyone present understood the food chain—genin were supposed to be jonin snacks, not survivors.
But Hiruzen's decisive pivot away from the topic sent a clear message: this particular can of worms would remain unopened for now. Still, every person in that room quietly filed away the name "Maruyama Qifeng" under their mental category of "Things That Don't Add Up But Might Be Important Later."
"Ahem," Hiruzen cleared his throat with the authority of someone redirecting a meeting that had wandered into uncomfortable territory. "Shikaku, please continue with your presentation. Try not to make it as depressing as casualty reports."
Nara Shikaku nodded with all the emotional range of a particularly stoic rock. The interruption had actually given him time to fine-tune his strategy, which was convenient since his next suggestion was going to sound either brilliant or completely insane.
He surveyed the room with the confidence of a man about to either save the village or propose the world's most elaborate suicide mission.
"I propose," he said with the gravity of someone announcing the weather forecast for the apocalypse, "that Konoha host the Chunin Exams. Early."
The silence that followed was so profound it could have been bottled and sold as a meditation aid.
Eyes widened around the room as brains collectively tried to process whether they'd heard correctly. A few people looked like they were doing rapid mental calculations, trying to figure out if this was genius or the kind of idea that got villages turned into historical footnotes.
Hiruzen's expression shifted to one of dawning comprehension, like a man who'd just realized that the crazy plan might actually be crazy enough to work. He tapped his pipe thoughtfully—a habit that usually preceded either profound wisdom or spectacular mistakes.
"Interesting timing, Shikaku. Please, elaborate on how exactly we plan to turn an exam into psychological warfare."
Shikashin straightened, clearly relishing the opportunity to explain his beautifully complex scheme. "We invite everyone. Well, almost everyone."
He paused dramatically, which was impressive given his usual emotional range.
"Cloud Ninja—technically our allies, though the treaty's about as sturdy as tissue paper in rain. This gives us a chance to see if they're still playing for our team or shopping around for better offers. Plus, they hate Iwa almost as much as we do, which makes them potential shopping partners in the 'enemy of my enemy' marketplace.
Mist Ninja—they've been playing hermit kingdom behind their ocean moat. Let's remind them what happens when you poke the mainland powers. A little show of force might convince them that expanding this war isn't in their best interest.
Sand Ninja—they're broke, politically fractured, and about as stable as a house of cards in a windstorm. A few economic concessions might buy their neutrality, assuming we can work around Chiyo's personal vendetta against anything with a Konoha headband."
He gestured expansively, warming to his theme.
"Plus every minor village gets an invitation. Nothing says 'pick your allies carefully' like watching genin from major villages compete at levels that would make your best jonin nervous."
The strategy was elegant in its ruthless simplicity: divide the opposition, intimidate the fence-sitters, and make everyone recalculate the cost of making Konoha an enemy.
"Brilliant," Hiruzen declared, though anyone who knew him could tell he'd been expecting this proposal for weeks. Sometimes leadership meant letting subordinates think they were surprising you with ideas you'd been planning all along.
The meeting dissolved into the usual chaos of task assignment and bureaucratic detail-wrestling, with Shikaku inheriting the thankless job of turning grand strategy into logistical reality.
---
Later, as the sun painted Konoha in shades of gold and amber, Hiruzen and Orochimaru found themselves walking beside the river—a ritual they hadn't performed in far too long.
"When did we stop doing this?" Hiruzen asked, his voice carrying the weight of someone who'd realized too late that time had a habit of slipping away unnoticed.
"Heh." Orochimaru's response had all the warmth of a glacier.
A vein twitched in Hiruzen's forehead. Some things never changed, and his student's talent for emotional unavailability was apparently eternal. Still, watching Orochimaru grow into his power filled him with pride, even if the man's idea of small talk involved discussions of mortality and human experimentation.
There was something else, though—a shadow behind his pride that he chose not to examine too closely. Some concerns were best left unacknowledged, at least while the village needed its monsters pointed at external threats.
"Your thoughts on the war?" Hiruzen asked, watching children play in the distance with the wistful expression of someone who remembered when the world seemed simpler.
"War." Orochimaru licked his lips, a gesture that somehow made the word sound both inevitable and appetizing. "It's coming whether we want it or not. Death doesn't take appointments—it just shows up when it's ready."
His student's obsession with mortality hadn't dimmed with age—if anything, it had developed into something approaching a philosophical framework. Hiruzen found this simultaneously impressive and deeply concerning.
"What about Qifeng?" he asked, shifting to safer ground.
Orochimaru's interest sharpened visibly. "Two possibilities. Either he's been playing the world's longest con and hiding jonin-level abilities while pretending to be a mediocre genin, or someone's been playing guardian angel. Could be one of ours, could be foreign, could be some random do-gooder with a hero complex."
"Hidden strength?" Hiruzen considered this briefly before dismissing it. He'd seen genuine prodigies—hell, he'd trained some of them. Qifeng wasn't that. The kid was earnest, dedicated, and utterly, provably average in every measurable way.
"Maybe he's got secrets we haven't uncovered," Orochimaru suggested with the tone of someone making a particularly dark joke.
"Can you identify his mysterious benefactor?" Hiruzen ignored the humor attempt.
"I haven't found one," Orochimaru replied quickly. "Which doesn't mean there isn't one—just that they're either very good at hiding or there's nothing to find."
Coming from Orochimaru, this was significant. If the village's premier investigator of uncomfortable truths couldn't find evidence of outside interference, then either there wasn't any or they were dealing with someone operating at levels that made everyone nervous.
Hiruzen took a contemplative puff from his pipe. "Perhaps it really is just extraordinary luck."
Because at the end of the day, Qifeng's loyalty was unquestionable. The kid's dedication to his comrades—living and dead—was the kind of genuine emotion that couldn't be faked, especially not in front of two of the village's most experienced lie detectors.
"Luck," Orochimaru agreed with a shrug. "I've seen stranger things. War has a way of producing statistical impossibilities. Some people walk through artillery barrages without a scratch while others trip over their own feet and break their necks."
"Luck is still a form of strength," Hiruzen mused.
"Indeed. And he's one of ours, which is what matters."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the river flow past with the steady indifference of natural forces to human concerns.
What neither of them knew was that far across the village, in the peaceful quiet of the morgue, Maruyama Qifeng was carefully tending to the departed with the kind of professional dedication that would have made his reputation even more solid if anyone had been watching.
If he'd known about their conversation, he might have approached his work with even more care—though given his already meticulous attention to detail, this would have been an impressive feat of professional development.
After all, in the ninja world, you never knew when taking proper care of the dead might somehow end up being a matter of life and death for the living.
****************
Additional chapters on my Patr*n
35 Advanced chapters & 5 Bonus chapters of Corpse Picker of Konoha
20 Chapters of Naruto : Blazing Legend
patre*n*com/IchigoTL