Chapter 38: Collecting Corpses
The entire walk to the designated entrance, I felt like I had a target painted on my back.
Every step was accompanied by the distinct sensation of being stalked by something with too many teeth and an unhealthy interest in my continued existence. Hoshigaki Kisame's presence was like a constant itch I couldn't scratch—that prickly awareness that comes with being watched by a predator who's still deciding whether you're worth the effort.
Part of me wanted to spin around and smash every one of those shark teeth down his throat, but unfortunately, professional standards and all that. Instead, I lit a cigarette and tried to look like I wasn't internally calculating how fast I could run if things went sideways.
"Here we are," I announced when we reached their entrance, stepping aside with what I hoped was casual indifference.
The three Mist ninja studied me with the kind of attention usually reserved for particularly suspicious mushrooms. Kisame was the worst of them—when he smiled, showing off those razor-sharp teeth, it was like watching a great white shark contemplate whether you'd make a good appetizer.
I kept my expression neutral until they disappeared into the darkness of the cave, then allowed myself a moment of honest reflection.
"Hoshigaki Kisame's corpse," I murmured to myself. "Now that would be interesting."
The kid was still young, hadn't claimed his place among the Seven Swordsmen yet, and definitely hadn't gotten his hands on Samehada. But even without his legendary sword, there was something special about him. Something that made the blade choose him over the Fuguki Suikazan when the time came.
It wasn't just strength—though he had plenty of that. It was his physique, his chakra. The way his body could hold and process energy in ways that made even tailed beasts take notice. After years of partnership with Samehada, he'd developed an almost supernatural ability to absorb chakra from others.
If I could get my hands on a corpse like that, study what made him tick...
"Orochimaru would probably be very interested," I mused, then immediately shook my head. "No, bad idea. Don't poke the snake. I've got enough problems with the Dead Bone Pulse and Sharingan research without adding more complications."
The smart play was to keep my head down and not get greedy. Orochimaru was scary enough when he was happy with me.
I finished my cigarette and started the walk back to the morgue. My job for the second round was corpse collection, but that didn't mean I had to camp out in the Terror Cave. Check every other day, gather up the bodies, file the paperwork. Simple enough.
And honestly? After getting up at the crack of dawn for the first exam, I was looking forward to returning to my normal schedule. There was something beautiful about sleeping until noon, taking a leisurely shower, and then finding my favorite sunny spot to waste the afternoon.
A box of cheap tobacco, a terrible ninja romance novel, and the distant sounds of the village going about its business. Watching other people hustle and struggle while I enjoyed a stolen moment of peace—that was the good life right there.
It was probably the closest thing to retirement you could find in the ninja world, and I treasured every quiet moment of it.
"Would be perfect if I didn't have company," I muttered, glancing at Might Guy, who was attacking the morgue floor with a scrub brush like it had personally insulted his honor.
I settled into my favorite lounging position—the classic "unemployed uncle" sprawl—and sighed contentedly.
"If there wasn't a war coming, this world might actually make a decent place to grow old."
I was probably the only person in the entire ninja world who thought about retirement at my age. Most people were too busy trying not to die young to plan for getting old.
But peaceful afternoons have a way of slipping by too quickly.
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Evening found me in the central monitoring room of the Terror Cave, surrounded by enough concentrated political tension to power a small village. High-ranking Konoha officials rubbed shoulders with jonin leaders from every major hidden village—the kind of people whose mood swings could start or end wars.
My arrival barely registered a blip on anyone's radar, which was exactly how I liked it. Only Nara Chuichi noticed me enough to wave me over.
"What's the situation?" I asked quietly, keeping my voice low. The atmosphere in here was thick enough to cut with a kunai, and I didn't want to be the one to set off whatever powder keg was building.
Nara's bitter smile told me everything I needed to know. "Not good. Konoha's genin are being systematically hunted."
Was I supposed to be surprised? The entire ninja world was circling Konoha like vultures, and this exam was basically an open invitation to test our defenses. Of course they were going to use it as an opportunity to probe for weaknesses.
The lack of trust between the major villages was the only thing keeping us from being overwhelmed completely. Nobody wanted to be the first to make a move and eat the full force of Konoha's retaliation, and they definitely didn't want to do the heavy lifting while their rivals sat back and watched.
Still, initiating the Chunin Exams before the inevitable war was a smart play. Gather intelligence, demonstrate strength, maybe buy some time to prepare. Even if it meant our kids would be walking into a meat grinder.
"How bad is it?" I asked, trying to sound appropriately concerned.
"Hoshigaki Kisame from Mist, Maki from Sand, Darui from Cloud—they're all chunin-level or higher. The villages came prepared for war." Nara's expression was grim. "We've already lost fifteen genin."
Fifteen. No wonder everyone looked like they were attending a funeral.
"What about our preparations?" I pressed. "Surely we didn't go into this completely blind?"
Nara's face brightened slightly. "Elder Danzo sent people."
Ah. That explained it. Say what you want about Danzo—and I had plenty of unflattering things to say—but he wouldn't let foreign ninja run wild in Konoha without consequences. The man was a master of the dirty game, and if anyone could turn this situation around through sheer underhanded tactics, it was him.
"But why do they look so miserable too?" I nodded toward the foreign delegation.
Fuguki Suikazan from Mist, Dodai from Cloud, and Rasa from Sand all wore expressions like they'd been sucking on lemons.
"Because they're dying too," Nara said with a shrug.
I couldn't help but smile. "Music to my ears."
Fair was fair. If we were going to lose people, at least we weren't the only ones bleeding.
Honestly, I thought the first and third rounds of the exams were pointless formalities. If everyone was just going to kill each other anyway, why not skip the pretense and go straight to the bloodbath?
But that was above my pay grade. I had my own job to do.
"I should get going," I said.
"Be careful," Nara warned.
"Always am." I valued my life more than anyone else in that room, but I wasn't too worried. These genin had no reason to target an examiner—no benefit, and way too much political fallout.
I left the suffocating atmosphere of the monitoring room and headed down to the Terror Cave entrance, armed with a detailed map marking every corpse location.
Time to go to work.
The first batch was a group of Konoha genin, throats cut clean in single strikes. Professional work, probably Mist or Cloud ninja. I observed a moment of silence for them—they deserved that much—then got to work.
Fifteen bodies in half a day. This was going to be a long night.
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