Naruto: Reborn as Kakuzu, the Immortal Assassin

The streets bustled with life. Shops lined both sides of the road, their vibrant signs competing for attention. Voices filled the air—vendors shouting their wares, townsfolk deep in conversation, and the soft jingling of carriage bells. This town, nestled at the crossroads of the Land of Fire, the Land of Waterfalls, and the Land of Iron, had no distinct governance due to its unique location. Over time, it became a lawless haven—a town where shadows thrived. Yet, this lack of oversight also fostered a peculiar sense of "prosperity."

Inside an inn, Kakuzu opened the briefcase he always carried with him. A product of his own craftsmanship during his time in Konohagakure, the case might appear small, but its interior was a marvel—it could hold up to 200 kilograms. The primary feature of this briefcase was its powerful refrigeration system, capable of freezing vital items for later use. Kakuzu regularly maintained it, spending a staggering 300,000 ryō per service.

The contents of the case? Rows upon rows of vials, each meticulously stored. Within them lay "bloodlines"—samples Kakuzu had collected to achieve his ultimate goal: the acquisition of Kekkei Genkai. The technique he used for this was theChimera, a method initially conceived by Tobirama Senju but later refined by Kakuzu himself. Unlike Hiruko, who sought strength through desperation and impatience, Kakuzu's version of the technique focused on fusion rather than mere combination.

Hiruko's approach relied on physically merging his body with another's to wield their power—a shortcut for someone unwilling to wait decades for natural Kekkei Genkai awakening. In contrast, Kakuzu's method was a painstaking process of integration, one fraught with risk and failure. However, Kakuzu had the luxury of time, and his current challenge wasn't patience—it was location. He needed a secure space to conduct his experiments.

...

Meanwhile

In an underground exchange office, three Iwagakure shinobi handed over a "trophy" they had obtained through their combined efforts. Behind the counter stood a woman in her early twenties with striking purple hair, captivating features, and a curvaceous figure. Despite her alluring demeanor, her gaze was sharp as she examined the "prize."

The lifeless body belonged to a man listed on a bounty poster. After confirming the identity, she nodded and placed the corpse into a refrigerated storage unit. The three Iwagakure shinobi exchanged smug looks.

The leader, a chunin named Retsu, couldn't resist boasting.

"Miss Hanabusa, impressive, right? Taking down a jōnin with my own hands—surely that proves my strength?"

Hanabusa gave a polite smile, her dimples adding to her charm.

"Indeed, shinobi as capable as you are rare to find these days."

She reached below the counter and retrieved a briefcase, sliding it across to Retsu. Inside was two million ryō—the bounty for their kill. The victim had once been a jōnin of Takigakure, a formidable warrior during the Warring States period. He had claimed the lives of dozens of shinobi in his prime. However, in the twilight of the era, he lost both arms in a Doton ambush.

Despite being honored as a jōnin by his village, his active days were long over. His misfortune was crossing paths with these Iwagakure chunin during a rare trip outside his village. Overwhelmed by their combined attack, he met his end. Hanabusa could easily deduce how the fight unfolded. Though she despised their smug attitudes, she maintained her professional demeanor.

Retsu, emboldened by her smile, leaned closer. "Come on, Miss Hanabusa, after all the business I've brought you, don't you think I deserve a little... appreciation? Maybe let me hold your hand?"

Hanabusa's expression didn't falter. She deftly avoided his grasp, her voice cool but pleasant.

"Gentlemen, your mission is complete. You should return to Iwagakure—surely the Tsuchikage has more tasks waiting for talented shinobi like you."

"Tch." Retsu clicked his tongue in irritation, his pride wounded.

"Miss Hanabusa, that's cold. I've been a loyal client, haven't I? You've earned plenty of commission thanks to me. And yet, you won't even let me touch your hand? That's just cruel."

Hanabusa rolled her eyes internally but kept her practiced smile. Dealing with such clients was all part of the job.

But now, with only one task completed, how could he even have the face to say such things?

"Apologies," Hanabusa smiled faintly, though a trace of coldness crept into her expression. "This is the mission handoff point. If you have no business here, please leave."

Her lack of courtesy visibly upset Retsu, and his face darkened with anger. He slammed a heavy fist onto the table, pointing at its surface.

"Hanabusa, drop the act! If it weren't for your looks, do you think I'd waste my time here? Besides, isn't 'entertaining' others your job?"

Retsu's expression made it clear that he intended to dominate the situation today. The two Iwagakure shinobi standing behind him crossed their arms and wore amused smirks, clearly enjoying the spectacle. In fact, they wouldn't mind joining in on the "fun" if given the chance.

Faced with the unreasonable behavior of the three Iwa-nin, Hanabusa's patience was wearing thin. Though she maintained a veneer of politeness, the smile had completely vanished from her face.

"You're not wrong," Hanabusa replied, her voice steady. "Establishments like this were built to keep up appearances." She glanced at them, her tone growing more detached. "If you truly value my company, I could pour you a drink and help you unwind."

From a young age, Hanabusa had understood the power of beauty and how to use it to her advantage. She could laugh along with these so-called 'patrons' and humor their antics, but if their thoughts went beyond the acceptable... Well, it would be best for them to back off and get some sleep instead.

After all, surely these Iwa-nin weren't so poor that they couldn't afford a mirror to reflect their own shortcomings.

Retsu's face darkened further as realization dawned—Hanabusa was outright rejecting him. The message was clear: she didn't think he was worth her time.

His frustration only grew. With his companions present, there was no way he could afford to lose face here.

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Pls Drop some Power Stones

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