Chapter 13 - The Suspect
All White Zetsu may look the same, but to Hajime, they were far from identical.
After acquiring the ability to manipulate water chakra from one of them, Hajime realized something: White Zetsu might carry a wide variety of chakra natures. If he could get water by accident… then what about wind? Lightning? Maybe even more…
Right when Hajime successfully ambushed the White Zetsu, far away from the scene, another White Zetsu—currently en route to its main body—suddenly stopped in its tracks.
"One of my kind… its signal just vanished. What's going on?"
This particular White Zetsu wasn't just an ordinary drone—it was a rare variant with enhanced information-processing abilities. Acting like a squad leader or communications officer, it could vaguely detect the presence of other Zetsu from afar.
And it knew: White Zetsu weren't that easy to kill. One had just disappeared right after their latest debrief? That didn't add up.
But before it could fully process what had happened, another signal blinked out—this time, it was Hajime disengaging from his transformed state.
"A second one… gone?"
Two White Zetsu, gone almost simultaneously and in the same general direction. It didn't take much to figure out which ones.
The others were scattered across the region, operating independently. Only the pair assigned to Sector 037 had been moving together. If two were gone at once, it had to be them.
The seriousness of the situation finally sank in. This wasn't a random loss. It could've been a targeted elimination. The Zetsu squad leader didn't hesitate—it turned and started heading toward the source of the vanished signals. It needed to know what had happened.
Zetsu are creatures born in shadows, surviving off schemes and secrecy. Losing a few bodies was no big deal—but the possibility that they were being hunted? That was far more dangerous.
If they were being hunted, then it meant someone had discovered their presence. And if that was the case, then their entire centuries-long game of manipulating the ninja world from behind the scenes could be at risk.
The squad leader was cautious. It didn't know exactly where to go—just the general direction. And it didn't want to end up as the next casualty. So it moved slowly, carefully, taking nearly seven days before finally reaching the scene.
But by then, any meaningful traces were long gone. The scorched earth from Hajime's Fire Release had already started to grow grass again. Whatever evidence might've existed had been erased by time and nature.
The Zetsu picked up on a few things: the battle had been brief, intense, and decisive. But that was all it could really tell. That wasn't nearly enough to determine whether the attack had been a targeted strike against White Zetsu, or just a fluke clash between rival ninja.
Don't think it was being careless—Zetsu had lived long enough to know how unpredictable the world could be. Some had even died to random meteor strikes before. Getting roasted by a surprise Fire Jutsu? Nothing special by comparison.
But there was one thing that did stand out—their bodies were gone.
No corpses. Not a single trace. The squad leader searched thoroughly, and the absence of remains confirmed its worst suspicion.
What it didn't suspect, however, was that someone had become a White Zetsu. The idea that someone could perfectly impersonate one never even crossed its mind. It simply assumed someone had identified them and taken out two Zetsu on sight.
Either way, it decided to report everything directly to the main body.
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Hajime, meanwhile, had anticipated that White Zetsu might investigate. That's why he made sure to leave quickly and cleanly.
While drawing Zetsu's attention was unavoidable, there was a world of difference between "someone knows we exist" and "someone can become one of us."
The former wouldn't put Hajime at much risk. If Zetsu were going to be suspicious, they'd focus on the usual suspects—those with red eyes, sage bodies, absurd sealing techniques… definitely not Hajime.
Hajime didn't know how slow and cautious the Zetsu investigation would be. After leaving the ambush site, he didn't head straight back to his base camp either.
He'd told his comrades he'd be scouting battlefields and looking for supplies—and that hadn't been a lie.
So on his return route, he skirted the edges of towns and warzones, trying to get a sense of where the real battles were happening. Hajime wanted to map out the major conflict zones to avoid running into high-level fighters.
The ninja world was a stage for monsters. Hajime, at least, had enough self-awareness not to step into the spotlight.
After gathering intel from several towns, Hajime couldn't help but feel… exasperated.
The medium-sized clans? Their battles were "blooming from the center"—scattered everywhere.
The big clans? Their war was "exploding from the edges"—concentrated along what would eventually become the Fire Country's border.
Hajime's base was hidden in the northern forests of what would one day be known as the Land of Fire. Not exactly far from those main battlefields.
Even though most of his intel came from civilians—and was likely flawed—it all pointed to one painful truth: there was no truly safe place in the ninja world.
And Hajime had another, very grounded problem: he was broke.
Too broke to restock supplies in town.
That meant his only hope was to scavenge from battlefields. Food, medicine, ninja tools—his camp needed everything.
If some generous ninja happened to "drop" supplies on the battlefield… well, Hajime would make sure their charity didn't go to waste.
As luck would have it, three days after leaving town, he actually spotted two ninja groups locked in combat.
He observed from start to finish—how they met, how they fought—and even figured out the reason: they were fighting over supplies.
There were supplies!
Hajime's original plan was to spectate safely from a distance. But now? He moved with extreme caution, inching toward the chaos while keeping well out of harm's way.
The two groups were evenly matched, each with over ten members. One group called themselves the Ishikawa Clan—Hajime didn't recognize the name or their symbol, but he could tell they were a major clan.
Why? Because they were the ones doing the robbing.
The ones being robbed? Hajime recognized their headbands.
One of their ninja carried an enormous scroll on his back—packed with vital supplies sealed inside. Both the scroll and their headbands bore a distinctive symbol: five interlocked circles, traced through with delicate lines.
Five rings.
No, they weren't from the Olympic Clan.
These were a well-known, high-profile family:
The Sarutobi Clan.