"You want permission to use that 'tree.'"
"Yes."
Konome Taketori watched Danzō sink into thought, Samehada slung over her shoulder. With one hand, she gently stroked it to soothe the blade's restless hunger.
The battle at Raiko Drum Mountain had drained Samehada completely.
And unlike Kisame Hoshigaki, she didn't possess an ocean of chakra to keep this gluttonous monster fed. These past few days had nearly starved it half to death.
The moment she left the Forest of Death, she headed straight for Root's underground prison. She had assumed that even if she couldn't send chakra back to her main body, she could at least fill Samehada's belly.
But reality was nothing like what she expected.
Most of the prison held ordinary people. There were barely any shinobi at all. And even among the few who were, the majority were genin or chūnin. There wasn't a single jōnin-level prisoner.
With Samehada's appetite, even if she sucked every last drop of chakra from them, it still wouldn't be enough to satisfy its needs, let alone cover the bottomless pit her main body was burning through.
With questions piling up, she spoke to the prison guards and to Chihaya Tōru, and only then learned the real reason the prison was so "empty."
Back then, Orochimaru and Chihaya Tōru had conducted human experiments together. Their research was reckless, and Hashirama's cells were dangerously unstable. Death row inmates and test subjects abducted from other villages simply weren't enough to keep up.
When the experiment reached a critical stage, they couldn't proceed without bodies. So Orochimaru began capturing Konoha shinobi to fill the gap.
That was what forced the Third Hokage to move, and ultimately drove Orochimaru into defection.
"The Third Hokage turns a blind eye to many of Lord Danzō's dealings," Chihaya Tōru had said, "but harming Konoha's shinobi and civilians is a red line he will never allow anyone to cross."
Once Orochimaru fled, they could no longer take Konoha's people. And in an era of peace, there were no wars to harvest victims from. On top of that, the research division wasn't producing results, so Danzō had little incentive to "spend" lives on experiments.
Better to brainwash them into tools and squeeze out some value. At least that way, the loss was smaller.
When Konome Taketori first entered the research division and those doctors and nurses stared at her like a specimen, it wasn't really about her.
It was because test subjects were running out.
The physically gifted children had been taken by Danzō to replenish Root's blood supply. What the research division received were scraps: the frail, the sick, the broken.
And Konome happened to qualify as "broken," which made her a perfect target in their eyes.
Since "borrowing" chakra from prisoners and test subjects was a dead end, only one path remained.
That giant tree with its nearly inexhaustible chakra.
Normal people weren't allowed to touch it. Even Chihaya Tōru could only show her around. There was no chance he'd let her use it freely.
So she had no choice but to come to Danzō and demand access.
"That tree is extremely dangerous," Danzō said at last, hesitation creeping into his voice. "What exactly do you intend to do with it?"
He didn't want to grant her permission.
If everything was truly as Ryūma reported, if she had already grown to the point of easily defeating Orochimaru, then letting her continue to evolve might push her beyond his control.
Kotoamatsukami still worked on her, but the effect wasn't perfect. He would need to cast it several more times, reshape her will completely, before he dared to let her grow without restraint.
Otherwise, he might end up with a beast too big to leash.
Beside them, Aburame Ryūma lowered his head slightly. His rigid face was as expressionless as ever, as though none of this concerned him.
Danzō's reaction was exactly what he predicted.
This situation was exactly what he had planned.
Danzō would never allow Konome Taketori to keep becoming stronger. He would suppress her, force her, pressure her.
Only when she made him feel safe would he calm down.
But that was nearly impossible.
And in the end, that contradiction would inevitably become a clash of violence.
This was the dead end Ryūma had designed for Danzō.
Konome's Byakugan gave her a full view of the base. She could see Ryūma's emotions surging for reasons she couldn't understand.
He was acting strange.
She stored that reaction away in silence, then answered Danzō's question smoothly. She had prepared this lie long before she stepped into the room.
"Sharingan can use Hashirama's cells to push a two-tomoe Sharingan into three tomoe. So I'm thinking… can I evolve my three-tomoe further?"
"I… no. How would you evolve it?"
Danzō nearly bit his tongue.
A three-tomoe Sharingan evolving higher meant only one thing: Mangekyō Sharingan.
A power so unpredictable that even a stronger opponent could be ambushed and killed if they lacked intelligence on it.
One Mangekyō had already been terrifying.
If Konome Taketori could cultivate every Sharingan he owned into Mangekyō, then Root would become an unstoppable force. The Five Great Nations, the Akatsuki… all of it would become dust before a hundred Mangekyō.
But only if she could truly do it.
"I'll follow the same principle," she said calmly, "the conversion from yang to yin. Three tomoe evolving again is a qualitative leap. Ordinary Hashirama cells alone might not be enough…"
She spoke without hesitation, layering one grand term after another. She knew Danzō was obsessed with Mangekyō, and she knew he didn't understand the technology.
Deceiving him carried no guilt at all.
Danzō was vicious, cunning, and brilliant in the world of shinobi politics.
But when it came to scientific research, he was just an old man.
Nothing compared to people like Orochimaru or Chihaya Tōru.
In her previous life, she had seen fools scam entire groups of "high-IQ, high-education" victims with absurd scripts.
The reason was simple.
No one is flawless. Everyone has blind spots.
And once you're dragged into a field you don't understand, you can only rely on "logic" and "experience."
Which are the easiest things in the world to manipulate.
Her earlier experiment, successfully pushing a two-tomoe into three tomoe, had already convinced Danzō once. It was the perfect foundation for "investment."
As for what she would do with the tree after she secured access?
That had nothing to do with him.
Spend the investor's money on your own goals. That was universal, across all worlds.
If the research produced results, she would take the成果 for herself and toss the investor aside.
If it didn't, she would demand more funding and squeeze even harder.
And by the time he realized what happened…
She would likely already be strong enough to inherit Danzō's legacy.
Danzō didn't have a son.
So shouldn't a disciple inherit the estate?
"In summary," she concluded, voice steady, "I believe the life force of the Senju Tree has a very real chance to trigger a higher evolution in a three-tomoe Sharingan. My confidence is at least sixty percent."
"Reasonable."
Danzō swallowed her "cake" whole.
His eyes flickered, gleaming with conviction.
He didn't understand any of her talk about yang-to-yin transformations, about creating kekkei mōra through elemental convergence, about the Sharingan as a "mirror of the soul" and how that intersected with Hashirama's vitality.
But the vocabulary sounded impressive.
And that alone made him feel like it had a chance.
Logically, it sounded plausible.
Experientially, she had a proven case. Compared to Chihaya Tōru, who had spent years producing little of substance, Konome Taketori looked far more reliable.
Give her a few months. If it worked, continue. If it failed, use the opportunity to beat her down and remind her who held the leash.
Either way, he lost nothing.
"If Root's resources are at your disposal," Danzō said after a long pause, "can you produce results within six months?"
Six months was safe. No matter how much of a genius she was, her strength wouldn't explode beyond control in half a year. And it was long enough to force something out of the research.
"It… can be done."
Konome Taketori hesitated just long enough to make it look difficult, then nodded.
Inside, she was laughing.
Six months was plenty of time. Her Reverse Eight Gates research would likely be complete by then. Producing something "high-level" to satisfy Danzō would be easy.
And even if she produced nothing…
She still got six months of access for free.
Seeing her agree so readily, Danzō's mood improved.
"Ryūma. Take Konome Taketori to the barrier team and register her chakra pattern."
"Y… yes."
Aburame Ryūma looked like he'd been struck in the head.
His plan had collapsed before it even began.
Shouldn't Danzō be wary of her power? Shouldn't he refuse, and push her into resentment, and let the wedge deepen until the relationship shattered?
Why did it fail so completely?
Then he understood.
The profit was too great.
Mangekyō Sharingan was an incentive massive enough to bury suspicion and conflict, at least for now. Only when the profit dried up, or when distribution became unequal, would the contradiction explode.
So the timing still wasn't right.
"Let's go, Ryūma."
Konome Taketori lifted her chin, urging him forward.
Samehada was already wriggling against her shoulder like a starving beast. Ever since she obtained it, it had been battle after battle, travel after travel. She still hadn't had time to truly study what this strange weapon could do.
Now she couldn't wait to test the limits of its devouring ability.
If it could swallow the Senju Tree…
Then it meant an endless chakra source.
Her main body's research speed could leap again.
If she could spam thousands of clones like Naruto Uzumaki, maybe Reverse Eight Gates would be finished in days.
Hopefully it wouldn't kill her main body in the process.
The two of them left the room, one after the other.
In the darkness, the candlelight flickered.
Danzō watched their backs, the orange glow reflected in his eyes.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
In the hollow black corridors of the base, the sound of two sets of footsteps overlapped again.
One walking in front. One behind.
Just like the day Konome Taketori first entered Root.
Only now, everything was different.
"Ryūma-sama."
A Root shinobi wearing a gray-patterned mask approached in the narrow corridor. Seeing Aburame Ryūma, he stopped and bowed.
"Mm."
Ryūma replied coldly without slowing.
"Konome Taketori-sama?!"
Only then did the masked shinobi notice the small figure behind Ryūma. He hurriedly bowed again, voice full of respect.
Konome raised an eyebrow, surprised. Then she answered the way Ryūma did, casual and restrained.
Even through the mask, she recognized him.
One of the twelve tokubetsu jōnin from the Raiko Drum Mountain mission.
His name was probably Kitsunebi.
His ability seemed to be wide-area fire release. He had been assigned to burn the mountain, but the thunderstorm, flood, and mudslide had drenched everything so thoroughly that "burning the mountain" became impossible.
When Konome had first joined Root, she had status because she was Danzō's disciple, but she was still new. Most of these wooden puppets didn't salute her at all. They simply ignored her.
After Raiko Drum Mountain, after witnessing or hearing about her strength, their attitude had become noticeably more respectful.
Konome followed Ryūma down the corridor, casually scanning her surroundings.
When she first arrived, Root had felt mysterious. Ryūma had felt like an untouchable, cold-blooded machine. And she had been haunted by the countdown of her bloodline sickness, terrified that Hashirama cells would fail to save her.
She had been tightly wound, always braced for death.
Now it was different.
She had used Root's resources to suppress the Gray Bone problem. She had already obtained and implanted the Sharingan. Reverse Eight Gates was close to completion.
And with Samehada in hand, if she filled it with chakra and layered it with a tailed-beast cloak and Lightning Release Armor, she could slaughter through Root itself.
Other than Danzō, no one could stop her alone.
Her strength had changed.
And her mindset changed with it.
The once-mysterious Root base no longer inspired fear.
It felt light. Even pleasant.
A looseness she hadn't felt in a long time.
In contrast, Aburame Ryūma's head was crowded with turbulent emotions, like someone trapped in an impossible puzzle.
He looked exactly like she had when she first entered Root, uncertain whether her bloodline sickness could ever be cured.
"Ryūma. Something on your mind?" Konome asked. His expression hadn't changed, but the emotions above him were too loud to ignore.
"Mm. It's… fine."
His voice was heavy.
He had no malice. But he was trying to drive a wedge between Konome Taketori and Danzō, just like Danzō had once driven a wedge between Orochimaru and the Third Hokage.
For the Danzō he once knew, he was betraying the Danzō of today.
And yet he was doing the same kind of thing.
A bug could only live in darkness.
"I remembered your earlier question," he said suddenly.
"What?"
Konome froze. Then she immediately connected his recent strangeness to some buried memory.
"I can't speak about him," Ryūma said. "You probably can't either."
"He is…?"
"Be careful of Danzō."
Her footsteps halted in the empty corridor.
Konome lifted her gaze to the emotions above his head, bright and sincere, laced with a murky guilt.
What is this?
Why would Aburame Ryūma say something like that?
With the Tongue Eradication Seal on him, he was risking everything to warn her.
Were they truly that close?
The sincerity above his head gleamed like gold in the darkness.
It wasn't Danzō testing her.
Ryūma genuinely wanted to warn her about Danzō's danger.
She didn't respond.
She acted as if she hadn't heard anything, and continued walking behind him.
She didn't understand his purpose yet, and she couldn't risk talking freely inside this base.
But Root was starting to look far more interesting than she'd assumed.
And inheriting her "teacher's" legacy…
Might be far easier than she thought.
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