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The sun set, only to rise again.
The time had come. A piece of news that would shake the entire world emerged from the Raikage's Tower.
Kumogakure Declares War on Konoha!
Orders were issued, and wave after wave of Kumogakure shinobi poured out of the village, heading straight for the front lines. It was as if Kumogakure had been preparing for this moment all along.
At the same time, the Third Raikage issued a state of maximum emergency. All commercial activities were suspended, every household was ordered to stay indoors, and the Anbu took over the distribution of supplies.
This move was met with overwhelming support from the many clans of Kumogakure.
With war breaking out, who wouldn't need iron? they thought. Iron is as good as gold now!
Yet, the Third Raikage refused to purchase their high-priced iron, brushing them off with the excuse that the village still had sufficient reserves.
Even so, the clans remained confident, waiting patiently for the day when the Raikage would finally come knocking.
A day later, Konoha's spokesperson publicly condemned Kumogakure for its dishonorable actions. In response, countless shinobi bearing the Konoha forehead protector began mobilizing for the battlefield.
Simultaneously, in the Land of Hot Water, the price of iron skyrocketed. The cost of a ton of iron soared from 400,000 ryo to 600,000 ryo.
Despite the steep price, wealthy merchants and daimyos swarmed the ordinary little iron shop like sharks drawn to blood.
In and out went countless fully-loaded carts, one after another.
They were desperate.
Their pockets were full, and they were eager to profit from this war.
Meanwhile, in the Land of Hot Water, the battlefield raged on. The two sides clashed fiercely, and even distant onlookers were not spared from the violence.
In short, anyone caught spying on the battlefield was swiftly decapitated.
The setting sun painted the land in blood-red hues.
Elsewhere, in Yugakure, the celebrations were just beginning.
Countless wealthy individuals, adorned in gold and jewels, gathered in the entertainment districts. Fistfuls of cash were tossed into the air amidst raucous laughter.
They drank and feasted endlessly, their indulgence knowing no bounds.
As night fell, the revelry reached its peak.
On the outskirts of the village, countless emaciated figures emerged from their dilapidated homes, wandering aimlessly like the walking dead.
Hiding in the shadows, they watched the overflowing barrels of food scraps—leftovers of wine and meat—with hungry, glowing eyes.
They craved it.
Even the scraps, even the food meant for pigs, were better than what they had.
Their stomachs growled in hunger, their eyes gleaming green with desperation. Yet, none dared to approach.
The burly men standing guard with whips in hand—they were beasts, enforcers, nightmares.
In the darkest corner, a child dressed in tattered rags clung tightly to his equally frail and malnourished mother.
"Mom, why won't they let us have just a little?" the boy asked.
The woman, dirty and reeking, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, pulled the boy into her arms and whispered gently:
"They're just afraid we might hurt ourselves if we rush in.
Wait a little longer, my child."
Hearing this, the boy nodded obediently and buried his filthy face in his mother's embrace.
The most humble of women, reduced to nothingness, didn't even dare to tell her child the truth. She feared that hatred would drive him to his death.
Her love for her child was all she had left.
The brightly lit Yugakure, one of the most prosperous villages in the shinobi world, still harbored boundless darkness within its shadows.
High above the village, Rinjin sat lazily atop a massive blade of iron sand, one leg dangling over the edge. His expression was blank as he gazed down at the village below.
In his mind, the soft voice of Matatabi echoed.
"Rinjin, are you sad?"
Rinjin raised an eyebrow slightly and let out a cold chuckle, shaking his head.
"Why would I feel sad for those who treat their own kind as less than human?"
"But… I can sense the heaviness in your heart," Matatabi murmured timidly.
"Don't worry about it. I'm just a little… excited."
As he spoke, Rinjin's grin grew wider and wider, revealing a row of sharp, white teeth.
"I'm waiting. Waiting for this beautiful bubble to burst.
No! I'll pop it myself! I'll make it explode into a dazzling rainbow!"
His tone grew increasingly cruel, and the whites of his eyes began to recede, replaced by an encroaching blackness that slowly consumed his pupils.
But just as quickly as the blackness appeared, it retreated, as if shocked by an electric current. His eyes returned to normal.
Rinjin chuckled softly, covering his forehead with one hand as he muttered to himself:
"Stay put, you pathetic creature.
You think losing control and going berserk will help you win against me?
I'm the kind of guy who carries everything on his back and still sprints forward at full speed!"
His arrogant voice was swallowed by the howling wind.
When he looked back, the darkness had vanished, leaving nothing behind.
The next morning, as the revelers slept off their hangovers and the starving masses retreated to their hovels, a piece of news spread across the shinobi world like wildfire.
Iron prices had plummeted!
The cost per ton had dropped back to its original price of 50,000 ryo, with unlimited supply available.
The news spread like wings, waking countless people from their drunken stupor.
What followed was a mix of shock and madness.
The announcement came alongside another piece of news:
The Fire and Lightning Nations had ceased hostilities over the issue of tailed beasts.
The world was stunned. It felt as though the sky itself was falling.
All eyes turned to Yugakure, to that unremarkable little shop that had suddenly become the center of attention.
Beneath the surface, unseen forces began to stir.
The exchange offices were overwhelmed.
The number of mercenaries hired to sabotage the shop had been halved due to the rising costs.
Of those who remained, some were paralyzed with fear, while others were unnervingly calm.
The bounty to shut down the shop had risen to a staggering 100 million ryo.
But soon, the employers began to reconsider.
The exchange offices had sold their information to the shop, and the consequences were swift and brutal.
Wealthy merchants began disappearing without a trace, and several minor daimyos were assassinated.
The enraged elites suddenly fell silent.
They attempted to boycott the shop, but their efforts proved futile.
Even when they tried to use their stockpiles of iron to wage a price war, the shop remained unfazed.
After all, the only ones bleeding were themselves.
Then they realized something chilling.
The shop had been unyielding when prices were high, and it remained just as steadfast now that prices had dropped.
Anger, jealousy, hatred, frustration, pain, and fury—all these negative emotions were suppressed, bottled up tightly.
The shinobi world became a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest spark.
In Konoha, at Rinjin's home.
Rinjin sat leisurely on his porch, sipping tea.
He was well aware of everything that was unfolding.
After all, this eerie calm was something he had orchestrated deliberately.
All that was left to do now was to fan the flames, directing the explosion exactly where he wanted it to go.
A controlled detonation.
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