The stunning news that the Third Raikage and 1,500 Cloud Ninja had been defeated by a single man in the Land of Rice Fields quickly spread like wildfire across the ninja world. Intelligence operatives from every major village relayed the details back to their respective nations.
However, in the northern region of the Land of Fire, the 1,000 Konoha ninja stationed near the border remained oblivious to the dramatic events that had just unfolded. Reinforcements were still arriving, bolstering their numbers as they prepared for what they believed would be a direct conflict with the Cloud Ninja. Their orders were clear: block the anticipated invasion and push back the enemy forces.
Orochimaru, standing atop a ridge overlooking the forested borderlands, awaited word from his scouts. He had expected news of a brewing battle, a confrontation perhaps even on the scale of the previous Great Ninja Wars. But the report he received shattered those expectations.
"What did you just say?!" Orochimaru snapped, eyes widening. His voice echoed across the quiet terrain.
The intelligence ninja before him, a Hyuga with veins bulging around his eyes, stood firm. "It's true, Orochimaru-sama. I witnessed it with my own Byakugan. That man—Sado—he took down more than a thousand Cloud ninja in a single move. Even the Third Raikage... his arm was shattered."
Orochimaru froze, momentarily stunned. The Third Raikage—an indomitable figure in the ninja world. Orochimaru had once seen him fight the Eight-Tails with his bare hands and win. Not even a fully powered Tailed Beast Ball could break that man's body, yet this new figure had not only injured him but routed his entire army.
"What jutsu did he use? How did he do it?" Orochimaru demanded, his curiosity now overtaking his surprise.
"It appeared to be a type of sound-based ninjutsu, maybe some form of vibrational or shockwave technique. As for how he defeated the Raikage, he seemed to use the Raikage's own power against him—reflected it back somehow."
Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed. "Ah... exploiting the flaw in the Raikage's unstoppable charge. Clever."
He remembered that moment, years ago, when the Raikage had injured himself during a reckless attack. Sado must have known this weakness and used it to his advantage. Still, to control the battlefield so thoroughly and single-handedly defeat an entire elite force was extraordinary.
"And this Sado... he's started a village?" Orochimaru asked.
"Yes. The Sound Ninja Village. He's declared himself the Sound Shadow. According to reports, he has a force of about 100 elite ninja under his command. He's already begun accepting high-ranking mission requests."
Orochimaru scoffed. "Sound Ninja Village? How amusing... and strangely familiar."
He felt a flicker of irritation. That name—Sound—had once been part of his own ambition. It felt as though something had been stolen from him. He waved the thought away for now.
"Inform Konoha. Report everything. And tell them to recall our forces. There's no longer a battle here worth fighting."
In the days that followed, the story of the Third Raikage's defeat dominated headlines across the Hidden Villages. Whispers turned into loud debates in taverns, tea houses, and war councils. Who was Sado, this mysterious figure from a minor country who had cut down the mighty Raikage? Was he a forgotten relic from some secret clan? A forbidden experiment? Or simply a genius that had risen during chaotic times?
Speculation ran wild. But what couldn't be denied was that the Sound Ninja Village—established in the heart of the Land of Rice Fields—was now a recognized power.
When the Land of Rice Fields publicly announced the founding of the Sound Ninja Village, naming Sado its leader and declaring it open to S- and A-rank commissions, the news sent shockwaves through the ninja world.
"They even accept urgent B-rank missions," one informant wrote in a classified scroll. "Clients are lining up."
Though the great villages scoffed at the idea of a new major power, they couldn't deny the logistics. With only 100 elite ninja under his command, Sado could handle complex, high-risk missions that other small villages couldn't. Clients who had grown frustrated with the long waitlists of the Five Great Villages began pouring into the Land of Rice Fields.
Many among the major villages believed Sado was exaggerating. "A hundred Jonin? Absurd," muttered one Kage's advisor. "Even we don't have that many."
But clients didn't care about numbers—they cared about results. And Sado, or rather Akira as he was truly known, delivered.
Akira sat beneath the vast stone edifice that would become the Sound Ninja Village's central hall. Missions scrolled before him like a sea of opportunity. His assistant arrived with the latest requests.
"Prioritize these," Akira instructed, setting aside those within a short distance of the Land of Rice Fields.
To clients whose missions were deferred, Akira offered a promise: "Two months at most. We'll get to your request."
Compared to the year-long delays they'd been given by the Five Great Villages, clients were overjoyed. They were willing to wait—and more importantly, they were willing to pay.
Akira had carefully assessed his forces: 100 human puppets, each imbued with the power of a Jonin and enhanced by the Gelel Stone. They weren't just strong—they were near tireless, emotionless, and lethal.
But they lacked the ability to think beyond basic strategies. For straightforward missions—escort, elimination, defense—they excelled. But for hostage rescues or diplomatic infiltrations, they risked failure due to their limited autonomy.
Akira's solution? He began pairing puppets with a handful of trained human tacticians—former samurai of the Land of Rice Fields, newly introduced to chakra and basic ninjutsu.
His vision was taking shape. The Sound Ninja Village wouldn't just be a name—it would be a force.
And while the Five Great Villages laughed, Akira's influence was quietly sinking its roots deep into the future of the ninja world.
The age of the Sound had begun.
This is also something that couldn't be helped—human puppets had their advantages.
Human puppets were essentially machines powered by chakra. As long as they had an energy source, they didn't need to eat, sleep, or rest. In many scenarios, their efficiency far surpassed that of living ninja. Missions that would normally take teams days to complete could be done within hours by these relentless constructs.
But they came with their own set of limitations. Unlike living shinobi, they couldn't adapt to complex, dynamic scenarios. Their decision-making capacity was minimal. That had been the biggest headache for Akira over the past month. He had no choice but to assign only the simplest missions—tasks that could be executed with brute force or clear objectives.
And so, Akira retreated into research.
A month passed.
Akira, driven by obsession and necessity, finally conceived a temporary solution. He imbued each puppet with a shadow clone—sealed within a scroll using the Scorpion Clan's advanced sealing techniques. Shadow clones, being chakra constructs, could think and make decisions. Though they couldn't generate their own chakra and would disperse once their chakra reserves were depleted, they provided a crucial level of autonomy.
When a human puppet encountered an obstacle beyond its programming, it would release the sealed shadow clone. The clone would assess, make decisions, and execute commands. In critical moments, Akira's main body could even intervene directly using the Flying Thunder God Technique.
Of course, managing over a hundred puppets—even with enhanced autonomy—was still exhausting. Akira had a second brain structure created by modifying his body, a marvel of chakra engineering, but even that was pushed to its limits. Decisions had to be prioritized. If one mission grew too complex, others were temporarily slowed or paused.
Each puppet had power rivaling that of a Jonin. Tasks were completed with ruthless precision. If any mission encountered unexpected resistance, Akira himself would appear in a flash of light, resolve the situation, and vanish again like a specter.
Sometimes, clients observed the puppets in action and questioned Akira's decisions—why he held back, why he didn't attack sooner. But Akira was once a doctor in his former life. He knew how to manage difficult clients. His approach was always the same: "Are you the expert, or am I? Let me do my job."
And inevitably, the missions succeeded. The clients paid. No one remembered the doubts they had.
As for his obligations to Konoha, Akira had cleverly sidestepped them. He had created a perfect puppet clone of himself. This double completed missions in Konoha's name, maintaining appearances. In the span of two months, "Akira" completed numerous A- and S-rank missions, amassing a fortune.
That money was immediately funneled into accelerating the development of Otogakure—the Sound Ninja Village.
Still, Akira felt the strain. Between puppet maintenance, chakra management, and clone production, even his modified body was feeling the weight. This wasn't sustainable.
The root of the problem? Autonomy.
Human puppets lacked true independence.
Akira theorized that if he could replicate the mental autonomy of shadow clones inside the puppets, the issue would be resolved. But Scorpion's techniques had limitations. He needed a deeper understanding of the shadow clone technique itself.
Although he had inherited the knowledge from Uchiha Kawa, it lacked the theoretical underpinnings. The Shadow Clone Technique was invented by the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju. The key lay in his original research notes.
Akira made a discreet visit to Konoha. He scoured the public archives in the Konoha Library, but found nothing. Not a word about shadow clones, nor about Flying Thunder God, Impure World Reincarnation, or Spiritualization Technique.
These secrets were sealed elsewhere.
He turned to the Third Hokage.
Using the excuse that he wished to enhance his mastery of shadow clones, Akira requested access to Tobirama's research. The Third Hokage, trusting Akira and seeing no immediate harm, complied.
With the original notes in hand, Akira's research took off.
Within a month, he had redesigned the Regeneration Core. The new version didn't just power the puppets—it created a synthetic mind, eerily similar to his own. Now, these puppets weren't just machines. They were near-copies of him.
A Byakugan user observing the new puppets would see something astounding: twin-colored meridians. The head glowed blue with cognitive activity, while the body pulsed green with motion. These were no longer mere tools. They were self-governing extensions of Akira.
His main body was now free.
But the village still needed numbers.
While Akira could handle elite missions with his puppet corps, the growing Sound Ninja Village required Genin and Chunin-level shinobi for basic operations.
He turned his attention to the 2,000 samurai the Daimyo of the Land of Rice Fields had placed under his command. They were loyal, disciplined, and trained in martial arts. With their interest in ninja power and years of experience, they were ideal candidates.
Akira trained them relentlessly. Though their chakra control was weak and their age made ninjutsu difficult to learn, they were proficient in taijutsu. Akira taught them his own modified style, forged from copied techniques across the Five Great Nations—blended into something uniquely Sound.
Progress was promising, but slow. They weren't yet ready.
So Akira cast a wider net.
He instructed the Daimyo to announce Otogakure's recruitment drive—welcoming wandering ninja, freelance mercenaries, and even former rogue shinobi.
The effect was immediate. News of Akira—the man who defeated the Third Raikage—had already spread. Now, those seeking power, shelter, or redemption came in droves.
Akira began interviewing them one by one.
And disappointment quickly followed.
A self-proclaimed genius demonstrated a pitiful version of Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique that fizzled out like a dying campfire.
Another claimed to be a master of genjutsu, but only succeeded in making Akira's eyebrow twitch.
Each display was worse than the last.
Akira clenched his fists, feeling his blood pressure rise.
He wanted to scream: "Are you kidding me? This is what passes for a ninja these days?"
But he took a deep breath, reminding himself: I am the Otokage now. I must show composure.
He repeated the mantra in his mind, over and over: I am the Otokage. I must have self-control. I cannot scold these people.
Even if they absolutely deserved it.