After leaving the office, Mū had no intention of going to sleep. He was nearly thirty years old, so how could he possibly rest easy at a time like this?
Even with his strength already at its peak, he could still expand his arsenal. Mastering more ninjutsu meant greater versatility. The wider his range of techniques, the more unpredictable and dangerous he would become.
Though physically drained from an entire day of paperwork and planning, Mū pushed himself onward. He made his way toward a hidden cave nestled in the mountains behind Iwagakure.
"Ram... Tiger... Ram... Horse... Ox... Ram..."
Rapidly forming hand seals, he slammed his palm onto the rocky ground. The cave wall began to rumble, shifting slowly as a concealed entrance revealed itself behind sliding stone.
Without hesitation, Mū stepped inside.
The interior resembled a secret sanctuary. Scrolls and ancient texts filled the shelves, and books were stacked in every corner, some scribbled with theories and formulas. This was his personal lab, the birthplace of Dust Release, his most powerful invention.
It was here, years ago, that he had developed that devastating technique, refining it alone in total secrecy.
"I must admit... the First and Second Generation Kage of each village were truly brilliance individuals."
Mū's thoughts drifted to the great leaders whose memories he'd inherited.
Reto, the First Kazekage, pioneered puppet techniques and mastered sand manipulation. The First Raikage created the Lightning Chakra Armor. Tobirama Senju... that man invented more forbidden jutsu than anyone else in history. Even Gengetsu Hōzuki was a monster, seamlessly combining Genjutsu with Water Style. As for Mū himself, he contributed Dust Release to the world, a technique that is both devastating and refined, standing at the peak of chakra manipulation.
He reached into a nearby shelf and pulled out a piece of wood infused with Hashirama Senju's chakra. Gently placing it into a specially sealed container, he narrowed his eyes.
"With my current knowledge and tools, studying Hashirama cells on my own is beyond me... I'll have to shelve that for now."
After a long silence, he turned his focus to something more attainable.
Among his vast collection of memories, one technique was prominent, not developed by Naruto, but by his father, the Fourth Hokage.
Rasengan.
A powerful and elegant technique, formed purely from chakra control without the use of hand seals. It had been modeled after the Tailed Beast Bomb.
"I should be able to recreate that."
Mū had already reached a level of chakra control beyond most shinobi. He had molded Dust Release itself. Therefore, compared to that, an A-rank jutsu like Rasengan was well within his reach.
"If I remember right, Minato Namikaze designed it based on the mechanics of the Tailed Beast Bomb."
He recalled the structure and formation clearly. The spiraling compression, the rotational force, every detail clicked into place.
Within just a few hours of silent trial and adjustment, he had already grasped the technique.
With a steady breath, he extended his hand.
Vrrrmmm!
A high-speed spiraling sphere of chakra whirled into existence in his palm, its dense core radiating pressure.
"Not too difficult. Now to try infusing it with wind nature transformation."
The orb shimmered, the chakra beginning to glow with a distinct green hue as Wind Release started to manifest, swirling violently within the spinning sphere.
After just a few tries, he had already created a Wind Style: Rasengan.
"Not bad. If I apply shape transformation on top of this, it becomes Wind Style: Rasenshuriken."
A glint of pride flashed in Mū's eyes as he began refining the chakra sphere further. With practiced precision, he molded the spinning energy, and in no time, a compact Rasenshuriken buzzed softly in his hand, emitting a faint but dangerous hum.
"Not bad at all. The next step would be Sage Mode..."
Right now, he can control a Wind Style: Rasenshuriken. With Sage Mode, he could throw the jutsu like a projectile, causing a massive explosion on impact. The destruction it could bring would rival even his Dust Release.
"Too bad I don't know any Sage Techniques..." he muttered, and the light in his eyes dimmed slightly.
That was the true limit holding him back.
He had no access to senjutsu, no Sage Art foundations to work with. If he did, with his level of talent, he could absolutely ascend to a new realm of power. His Dust Release might even evolve beyond its current state.
But for now, that was nothing more than wishful thinking.
He hadn't encountered any Sage inheritance, not even a whisper of it. Forget the Three Great Sage Lands, Mount Myōboku, Ryūchi Cave, or Shikkotsu Forest, he didn't even have a summoning contract with any beast. Even Gengetsu Hōzuki had a seashell, for crying out loud.
Mū had nothing.
The stone giant he used in battle wasn't a summon. It was merely a ninjutsu construct, powerful, yes, but lifeless.
"Can I create my own Sage Art then?"
The thought crossed his mind only to be dismissed just as quickly.
That was delusion. If he had the capability to create Sage Techniques from nothing, he might as well give up being a shinobi and start his own religious sect.
Turning his attention elsewhere, Mū moved on to another jutsu: the Shadow Clone Technique, invented by none other than Tobirama Senju.
It was straightforward, requiring only a single hand sign. He learned it in minutes.
But once he tried it, Mū felt underwhelmed. Compared to his own Split Body Technique, Shadow Clones seemed crude. They dispersed with one good hit, lacked the solid defense of his method, and consumed more chakra for less durability.
"Whatever. Biting off more than I can chew won't help."
Mū sighed and lay back on the small cot tucked in the corner of his lab. Exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he drifted into sleep almost instantly.
He didn't wake until noon the next day.
When he returned to the Tsuchikage building, flying in quietly, he found a group of Iwagakure officials anxiously waiting at the entrance.
"Everyone, what's going on?"
One of the senior officials stepped forward, holding a scroll.
"Mū-sama, we've reviewed your proposals. They're excellent, clever, and forward-thinking. However, the problem is that Iwagakure simply doesn't have enough manpower. The Ninja Academy needs instructors. The ANBU needs members. We still require shinobi to defend the village, and additionally, there must be enough personnel available to carry out missions and sustain the economy."
He bowed respectfully, yet his words pointed directly at the flaw in Mū's otherwise impeccable plan.
Mū frowned slightly, silently weighing their concerns.
They were right.
The village was still in its infancy, and manpower was stretched thin. He had gotten ahead of himself. Unlike Konohagakure, which grew rapidly thanks to its vast population and favorable position for trade, Iwagakure had no such advantage.
"Well, that's okay. Let's focus on commerce first. Build two commercial streets. I'll meet with the daimyō to attract investment and see if we can bring some industries into Iwagakure."
He adjusted the development strategy on the spot. The officials around him nodded in agreement.
"As for the manpower issue... I'll talk to the Tsuchikage this afternoon about relaxing immigration policies. There are still many wandering ninja clans scattered across the continent. If we can absorb some of them, it'll help us stabilize and grow."
Everyone nodded again, this time with a bit more optimism.
That afternoon, Mū visited Ishikawa, the current Tsuchikage. After he laid out his proposals, Ishikawa listened in silence, then gave a quiet chuckle.
"I'm already old. Iwagakure will be yours sooner or later. You don't need to ask me. Just go ahead and do what needs to be done."
The message was clear: title or not, Mū was already in command. He should act accordingly, without hesitation.
Leaving behind a Split Body to oversee village affairs, Mū set out alone for the capital of the Land of Earth.
His destination, the estate of the daimyō.
The residence was magnificent, a sprawling symbol of political authority and supreme influence. Towering vermillion gates gave way to winding stone paths and elegant wooden corridors. Guided by servants dressed in pale blue robes, Mū passed through a maze of polished courtyards before arriving at the rear gardens.
There, nestled beside a tranquil pond, he spotted an elegant bridge pavilion.
Its railings were carved with delicate cloud and dragon motifs. The pillars stood firm yet graceful, a masterwork of craftsmanship that radiated silent wealth.
Mū crossed the bridge slowly, his footsteps soundless against the polished wood. At the edge of the pond stood a rustic pavilion, shaded by a thatched roof that gave it a humble, natural charm in contrast to the grandeur around it.
Inside sat an enormously fat man dressed in layers of silken finery.
The daimyō.
His body was wrapped in a voluminous indigo cloak, embroidered with gold thread that shimmered in the afternoon sun. The cloth rippled softly in the breeze, resembling a drifting cloud. A tall black hat, studded with sparkling gems, perched atop his head like a miniature crown.
He held a long fishing rod in one hand, lazily cast toward the pond, while his other hand waved an ornate folding fan with idle satisfaction. Every movement radiated comfort, authority, and the unbothered leisure of a man who ruled from a throne of stability.
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