Chapter 43: The True Master of Persuasion

“So, what brings you all the way to Godless Town this time? Here, Nagato, have a fish eye—it’s good for your vision.” Once again, Bai Mu placed a piece of food in Nagato’s bowl.

Nagato was not much of a talker; he simply kept his head down and ate intently.

“We’re from Akatsuki, a group based in the Land of Rain, devoted to ending the chaos of the shinobi world. Our goal is to achieve peace not through violent means, but by persuading others. We assist the Demi-God in revitalizing the Land of Rain, and occasionally we take on missions to eliminate the truly wicked, incorrigible shinobi, earning a little bounty money in the process.” Yahiko’s gaze was strikingly clear, full of conviction.

“Cough, cough…” Yuba’s mouth was stuffed full of meat, and a mouthful of wine nearly went down the wrong pipe.

“What’s wrong?” Yahiko glanced at the bald, brutish man.

“Nothing, nothing… just choked a bit.” Yuba pounded his chest vigorously.

“That’s Yuba, a rogue ninja from the Hidden Rain Village,” Bai Mu immediately betrayed Yuba, still making sure to offer Nagato another piece of fish.

“Yuba?” Konan immediately produced a little notebook, flipping through a dozen pages before finding a wanted poster for an elite jonin by that name.

However, the bounty wasn’t very high—only five million ryo—and it was an internal notice from the Hidden Rain Village. Perhaps the village was simply too poor to offer a higher sum.

The poster depicted a figure clad in black, a lithe body carrying a long ninja blade, dark hair framing eyes full of resolve.

Konan held the wanted notice up, comparing it to Yuba himself.

“That’s not me,” Yuba shook his head vigorously.

“Well, it doesn’t look like you—this guy has hair,” Bai Mu pointed at the poster, unconvinced they were the same.

“There’s still a resemblance…” Konan frowned, studying the contours of both.

“No way—one’s so sleazy, spewing nonsense; the other is like a champion of justice. Look, can’t even see his own feet over that beer belly…” Bai Mu patted Yuba’s round stomach.

“Hey! I could rest it on my belt if I wanted!” Yuba swatted Bai Mu’s hand away.

At that moment, Xiangji arrived with a steaming pot of curried stew, glanced at the wanted notice in Konan’s hands, and remarked, “That’s him. His sword’s still hanging behind our bar, waiting for him to redeem it.”

Everyone’s eyes shifted toward the bar, where many weapons hung in pawn, some already thick with dust. Yet one slender, jet-black ninja blade still shone with a muted, ominous light, hinting at its worth.

“That’s the Shadow Guard’s Secret Blade!” Yahiko exclaimed in awe. This was no ordinary weapon, but a specially crafted blade for Hanzo the Salamander’s personal bodyguards in the Rain Village. Forged from alloyed steel, the sword was narrow, lightweight, and exceptionally resilient—perfect for assassination.

“How much could it be worth?” Xiangji’s eyes glimmered; clearly, she had a penchant for profit.

“It’s never appeared on the open market, but it should be worth at least five million ryo,” Konan estimated.

“Damn it! What a rip-off. I traded it for two bottles of that piss-water liquor!” Yuba cursed bitterly.

“So… you really are Lord Yuba, the Demi-God’s Shadow Guard?” Yahiko’s eyes burned into Yuba.

“Why did you defect from the Hidden Rain Village?” Konan pressed as well.

“Heh… Shadow Guard of the Demi-God? More like the Demi-God’s lapdog.” Yuba took a deep swig of ale, slamming his mug on the table.

“The story’s about to begin. Nagato, here, have some peanuts.” Bai Mu grabbed a handful of peanuts for Nagato, tossing a few into his own mouth as well.

Even Xiangji sat down, cradling her chin in her hands, curious and eager. She loved stories from the shinobi world.

“We were once the Shadow Guard, protecting the Demi-God as he swept across the shinobi world. We defeated the great general of the Land of Iron; we cowed the Three Legendary Sannin of the Leaf. We, mere blades of grass, stood atop the highest peaks by the Demi-God’s side, making the Five Great Nations tremble, none daring to set foot in the Land of Rain!”

Yuba’s slightly inebriated face softened with nostalgia, his eyes—usually so fierce—filled with memories of those years guarding Hanzo’s conquests.

“Indeed, in this world where bloodlines are everything, Hanzo’s rise is the most inspiring tale among shinobi,” Bai Mu nodded vigorously, pouring tea, “Here, Konan, have some cappuccino.”

Though the original tales offered few glimpses of Hanzo the Salamander’s prowess—and his end was rather ignoble—Jiraiya’s rare words of praise hinted at Hanzo’s true strength. Even Sage Mode Jiraiya harbored some wariness toward him.

“But… after the Second Great Shinobi War ended, the Demi-God… he changed.” Yuba gripped his bottle tightly, his eyes bloodshot, nearly weeping crimson tears.

“He became a coward, afraid to leave his tower, ordering us to guard him round the clock. He lost all his fighting spirit. His scythe rusted, he drowned in wine and women, hiding in that tower, playing cards and singing with the courtesans all day long.”

With a crack, Yuba’s veined hand shattered the bottle, glass shards cutting deep, blood spilling across the table.

“He no longer fights for the peace of the Land of Rain!”

“He’s become nothing but a useless gambler!” Yuba cried. “And we, his Shadow Guards, had to watch him fall further each day, our pleas met only with harsh rebuke! Disillusioned, I left the village I once loved and drifted to this filthy, chaotic place. I even pawned the sword he bestowed upon me…”

“But now I think he was right. Wine and women—damn, that’s the real paradise. Far better than chasing some lofty, unattainable peace.” Yuba seized the broken bottle, blood and all, and drank.

“Damn it! May the heavens bear witness—henceforth I, Bai Mu, am sworn enemy to gambling and vice!” Bai Mu hastily pushed the bottle away.

“So… the Demi-God has fallen so far?” Yahiko murmured.

“No wonder… no matter how many times we’ve sought an audience, or sworn our loyalty, there’s never been a reply…” Konan’s face was equally downcast.

Nagato said nothing, his mouth too full of Bai Mu’s offerings.

“It’s useless. The Demi-God is beyond saving; he’ll never trust anyone again,” Yuba shook his head.

“No! I believe he’ll rise again. He’s the hero who saved us from the mire of war! This is only a passing phase. Once he sees the strength we’ve gained, once our names ring throughout the shinobi world, he’ll surely lead us toward peace again!”

Yahiko stood, fists clenched, his eyes unwavering with resolve.

“Who… are you, really?” Yuba stared at Yahiko, bewildered.

“Have you heard of Akatsuki?” Konan tilted her head, smiling gently at Yuba as she extended a hand. “Join us. Let’s strive together for the Land of Rain.”

“Damn… so this is the power of the original ‘Talk-no-Jutsu’? Even my heart’s racing,” Bai Mu muttered, clutching his chest as it pounded.