Chapter 285: Menma’s Mouth-based Persuasion
In the ruins of Sand City on the other side, hot winds carried sand grains through the broken walls and remnants, emitting a wailing sound.
Lady Tsunade stood at the edge of a relatively intact high platform, her golden ponytail swaying slightly in the dry wind.
She crossed her arms over her chest, gazing solemnly at the distant battlefield that resembled hell.
When she saw the One-Tails Shukaku covered in purple curse mark patterns appear, her heroic eyebrows involuntarily raised.
“Sand Village… they actually brought their One-Tails Jinchūriki too.” Her voice carried a hint of surprise: “It seems Rasa has spared no expense this time, even deploying their final ‘weapon’.”
Miss Shizune held the trembling Tonton and hurried to Lady Tsunade’s side, her face full of astonishment.
The chakra of Shukaku in the distance, filled with hatred and brutality, made her feel breathless even from such a great distance.
This was the first time she had seen a Tailed Beast in its complete form. Compared to the two even more terrifying Tailed Beasts in the distance, Shukaku was closer to them, and the oppressive feeling was even stronger!
“Lady Tsunade… is that Sand Village’s One-Tails? Such… such terrifying chakra…” Miss Shizune’s voice trembled slightly. She subconsciously hugged Tonton tighter, and the little pig also let out an uneasy “oink oink”.
“That Shura… facing the One-Tails, will he be in trouble? Although I’ve heard the One-Tails isn’t the strongest among the Tailed Beasts, it’s still a Tailed Beast after all…”
Lady Tsunade let out a soft hum upon hearing this, but her gaze involuntarily turned to the even more distant dark red Nine-Tails, still lying on the Ten-Tails and madly devouring its vast chakra.
Her eyes were deep, carrying a trace of reminiscence and complex emotions.
“Trouble?” Lady Tsunade shook her head, her tone filled with certainty: “Other Tailed Beasts can’t even be mentioned in the same breath as the Nine-Tails. They are on completely different levels.”
She paused, pointed toward the Dark Nine-Tails, and continued: “Look over there. If that guy can subdue and manipulate the Nine-Tails in that state and that Ten-Tails Tailed Beast… then a mere One-Tails Shukaku…”
Before she could finish her words, Miss Shizune beside her suddenly widened her eyes and let out an incredulous exclamation: “Lady Tsunade! Look!”
Lady Tsunade immediately turned her gaze back to the main battlefield.
In the distance, sand and dust filled the sky. The One-Tails Shukaku, which had been so menacing just moments ago, now looked utterly wretched!
A massive hole had appeared in its enormous body made of sand, as if a chunk had been brutally torn out by some terrifying force!
Its originally complete head was missing nearly half, with sand grains constantly peeling and splashing from the wound as if they had lost gravity.
Around Shukaku’s battered body, a black figure wrapped in faint green light was flashing wildly at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye!
Each flash was accompanied by a muffled roar and Shukaku’s even more shrill and pained howls.
Fists covered in green light fell like raindrops, each strike shattering a large chunk of Shukaku’s body, sending sand and dust flying and nearly engulfing the entire area.
This wasn’t a battle of equal footing at all—it was a one-sided, brutal crushing!
“This… this…” Miss Shizune watched in stunned silence, burying Tonton’s head even deeper in her arms.
“It’s simply unimaginable… a Tailed Beast… being beaten like a sandbag…”
Lady Tsunade silently watched the scene, and even in her heart, massive waves of shock surged.
Confronting a Tailed Beast barehanded and beating it without any power to fight back—this level of power had already surpassed the scope of ordinary Kage-level strong practitioners.
She subconsciously reached for her waist, picked up the wine gourd she always carried, uncorked it, and took a fierce gulp with her head tilted back.
The spicy liquid slid down her throat, yet it couldn’t fully suppress the shock in her heart.
“That guy…” Lady Tsunade set down the wine gourd, wiped the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, locked her gaze tightly on that figure, and murmured to herself: “Somehow… it feels strangely familiar. Where have I seen it before…”
Her murmur was drowned out by Shukaku’s final roar in the distance, filled with fear and frustration.
The battered colossal body instantly disintegrated, turning into swirling sands that rapidly receded like an ebbing tide, clearly resealed back into the Jinchūriki’s body.
The battle came to an abrupt end in a way that exceeded everyone’s expectations.
Not long after, a black figure emerged from the settling sand and dust, lightly landing on the ruins’ high platform.
It was Menma, who had ended the battle.
His miko robe remained pristine, as if the intense fight had never happened.
In his arms, there was now a sleeping red-haired little boy, Gaara.
Lady Tsunade’s gaze was immediately drawn to the child in Menma’s arms.
She stepped forward, carefully examining Gaara’s peaceful sleeping face. The heavy dark circles under his eyes contrasted sharply with his tender features, causing her to frown slightly: “This is the One-Tails Jinchūriki? He’s… just a child too.”
Her tone carried a trace of imperceptible complexity.
She thought of Naruto, the child who also had a Tailed Beast sealed inside him, growing up amid the village’s discrimination and isolation.
Although she had left the village years before the Nine-Tails Attack, she knew something about Naruto’s situation…
Menma didn’t answer directly but gestured to Miss Shizune beside him: “Trouble fetching a blanket.”
“Ah? Oh! Right!” Miss Shizune quickly responded, carefully placing Tonton on the ground and swiftly retrieving a clean wool blanket from her carry bag, spreading it over a relatively flat stone slab in the corner.
Menma gently placed Gaara on the blanket and covered him.
The little boy unconsciously curled up in his sleep, hugging the worn little bear doll in his arms.
“Miss Shizune, trouble boiling some hot water too.” Menma continued instructing calmly, as if handling an ordinary matter.
“Yes, right away.” Miss Shizune didn’t dare delay and immediately got to work, taking out some firewood and a pot from her storage scroll to start a fire.
Tonton obediently squatted nearby, its little eyes curiously eyeing the sleeping Gaara.
After arranging these things, Menma finally turned to Lady Tsunade, answering her earlier question: “The commotion from the Ten-Tails and little Nine here was probably too big to avoid Sand Village’s attention. Tailed Beast-level chakra fluctuations are the highest alert for any ninja village. So it’s not surprising that Rasa personally led the team and brought along the Jinchūriki as the ultimate weapon.”
Lady Tsunade stood nearby with arms crossed, watching Menma’s composed demeanor as if everything was under control, and suddenly let out a scoff, her smile carrying a hint of coldness.
“Heh… easy for you to say.” She looked sharply at Menma, her tone becoming aggressive: “You’ve now nearly crippled Sand Village’s elite forces, forced the Fourth Kazekage to flee in embarrassment, and casually abducted their One-Tails Jinchūriki. Sand Village has taken a heavy blow this time, but they won’t let it go easily. What do you plan to do next?”
Her voice rose a few notches, carrying an interrogative tone: “Are you planning to use this opportunity to formally ignite a war against the Land of Wind? Just like how you annexed the Land of Bears and Land of Shadows—those small countries—slaughtering their nobles and daimyo clean as well?”
Facing Lady Tsunade’s piercing gaze and sharp question, Menma’s face showed no ripples, as if listening to something unrelated to him.
He even shook his head slightly, his tone carrying a faint wistfulness:
“As the granddaughter of the Ninja God Hashirama Senju, having traveled the Ninja World for so many years and witnessed countless lives and deaths and darkness… to ask such a naive and shallow question. Truly disappointing.”
“What did you say?!” Lady Tsunade’s brows furrowed instantly, anger surging in her heart.
No one had ever dared to evaluate her like this!
Menma ignored her anger and continued in that flat yet piercing tone: “So-called nobles, so-called daimyo—they’re nothing but parasites living above ordinary people, gnawing at their marrow.”
“Lady Tsunade, you’re no longer that little girl living in Konoha’s greenhouse. Tell me, in all your years traveling the Ninja World, among the nobles and daimyo you’ve seen, how many have clean hands? How many haven’t wantonly exploited and bullied the commoners at the bottom? That mountain of wealth they hoard—which portion, which fraction—wasn’t stripped from the blood, sweat, and suffering of countless ordinary people?”
His icy gaze stared straight into Lady Tsunade’s eyes: “What is the meaning of their existence? Apart from maintaining their lofty privileges and perpetuating their corrupt, degenerate bloodlines, have they ever contributed even a tiny bit to the vast majority of people in this world?”
Lady Tsunade opened her mouth to retort, but found her throat dry.
Countless scenes flashed rapidly through her mind.
Those scenes she had deliberately numbed herself to with alcohol and gambling, trying to forget.
Noble heirs arrogantly galloping through streets on horseback, trampling commoners and riding off; daimyo issuing decrees for exorbitant taxes to build lavish palaces, bankrupting countless families; the despairing eyes of girls toyed with by nobles and discarded like trash… commoners rising up against unbearable taxes, only to be brutally suppressed by samurai and ninja hired by nobles…
She had indeed seen too much, but she had always chosen to turn away, refusing to look or think, as if closing her eyes made those sufferings nonexistent.
At this moment, Miss Shizune carefully approached carrying a pot of boiling hot water.
Tonton followed at her feet.
Sensing the tense and oppressive atmosphere between Lady Tsunade and Menma, their movements lightened considerably, not daring to make a sound.
Menma glanced at the timid Miss Shizune and the perceptive little pig, then turned back to Lady Tsunade, whose expression was shifting uncertainly, and continued, his tone carrying a hint of mockery: “You say, without the rule and management of nobles and daimyo, the world would descend into chaos?”
Without waiting for Lady Tsunade to answer, he answered himself: “Then, please tell me, in the Land of Stars, where nobles and daimyo have long been eliminated, have you ever heard of it falling into utter chaos and destitution? On the contrary, the Land of Rain you’ve seen, under the ‘wise’ rule of nobles and daimyo—what kind of hellish human world was that? The suffering of those people struggling to survive amid war and tyranny—isn’t that the best proof?”
Lady Tsunade instinctively wanted to retort—it was the system, the order formed over a millennium!
She blurted out: “But… but this ruling structure has existed for over a thousand years! It…”
“Over a thousand years?” Menma interrupted her: “Then, what about before a thousand years ago? Before the concept of countries was born, before terms like ‘nobles’ and ‘daimyo’ even existed in ancient times—how did humans live, how did they organize society? Did the world fall into eternal chaos and slaughter just because they weren’t there?”
“…” Lady Tsunade was completely stunned.
Her mouth hung open, but no sound came out.
From childhood, she had received ninja education—learning ninjutsu, taijutsu, illusion techniques, prioritizing missions, the Will of Fire.
She had never systematically studied history, let alone pondered the origins and evolution of social structures.
Menma’s question chipped a crack in her solid cognitive barriers, one she had never imagined.
Menma looked at the speechless Lady Tsunade, knowing his words had taken effect.
He no longer pressed, instead turning his gaze to the broken sand-and-stone staircase in the nearby room, his tone softening with a guiding intent:
“Entities like nobles and daimyo, who divide people into hierarchies based on bloodlines, power, and wealth, lording over others—I call them ‘classes’.”
“Classes?” Lady Tsunade subconsciously repeated the unfamiliar term, her gaze following Menma’s to the broken staircase.
“That’s right, classes.” Menma illustrated vividly: “Look, just like this staircase. At the very bottom, the most numerous, are ordinary people—they are the cornerstone of society, bearing the heaviest labor yet enjoying the least resources and dignity.”
His gaze slowly moved upward: “Above them is the ninja class. Possessing power, they serve employers through missions and combat, and those who hire them are usually nobles, daimyo, or other forces—ordinary people lack the wealth to hire ninja.”
“Further up is the merchant class, accumulating wealth through trade and exploitation.”
“Then, the noble class, relying on bloodlines and hereditary status to control land, power, and some military forces.”
“And at the very top, the rarest in number, is the daimyo class—nominal rulers of a country, holding the highest power and greatest wealth.”
His gaze finally rested on the nonexistent top of the staircase, his voice cold: “Each class higher up has fewer people, yet concentrates more resources and wealth. Ultimately forming a stable… pyramid structure.”
Lady Tsunade’s gaze followed the staircase symbolizing hierarchical order, and thunder seemed to crash in her mind!
She murmured to herself: “You mean… those most numerous ordinary people… are actually the cornerstone supporting the entire pyramid?”
Suddenly, she recalled some of her grandfather Hashirama Senju’s seemingly unreasonable actions back then—having the powerful Senju Clan members drop their surnames, disperse and integrate into Konohagakure, blurring family boundaries… She had vaguely thought it was for village unity, but now it felt like she had touched a deeper reason.
Menma seemed to see through her thoughts and spoke at the right moment, his tone carrying a hint of regret: “Hashirama Senju… he did indeed vaguely glimpse part of this world’s cruel truth with his extraordinary capacity and intuition. So-called ninja clans, in a sense, are they not another ‘class’ standing above ordinary people? Ninja occupy more resources and social status through martial power as well.”
“Ninja don’t compete with ordinary people for anything!” Lady Tsunade refuted almost instinctively, defending ninja dignity: “Ninja have their own ways of survival and rules! We operate through missions and employment…”
“Then, what have battles between ninja brought to this world?” Menma’s voice suddenly turned cold, piercing Lady Tsunade’s heart like an ice spike: “In the Land of Rain, you’ve seen it with your own eyes, experienced it firsthand! During the Second Great Ninja War, the Land of Rain became a battlefield for the great powers’ games—Fire, Wind, Earth Countries, and even other ninja villages got involved. What kind of hellish human world did it become? Countless commoners lost families, homes destroyed, starving corpses everywhere… wasn’t that caused by ninja battles?”
Lady Tsunade’s body trembled violently, her face instantly paling.
Those deliberately sealed memories surged forth.
Shattered villages, crying children, pervasive gunpowder smoke and blood scent, and… the endless grief and despair when Dan and Nawaki died.
She staggered, nearly unable to stand.
Lady Tsunade forced herself to hold on, using all her strength to say: “That’s why… that’s why grandfather ended the Warring States Period and established the ninja village system! He brought peace to the Ninja World! Yes, I admit wars between great nations are larger in scale, but at least… within the major countries, apart from the periods of the three Great Ninja Wars, they’ve enjoyed nearly fifty years of peace combined! Isn’t that progress?”
She tried to cling to this last belief, defending her grandfather’s great achievements and her own long-held views.
Menma quietly watched her, seeing the struggling pain and faint hope in her eyes. After a moment of silence, he let out a long sigh:
“This… is precisely what I regret.”
“Regret?” Lady Tsunade was stunned, not understanding: “What do you regret?”
Menma raised his head, carrying a heaviness that pierced through history: “What I regret is that Hashirama Senju back then, who possessed absolute power to sweep the entire Ninja World and crush all other countries and ninja villages, failed to… or rather, was unwilling to take that final, most crucial step.”
“Why destroy other countries and ninja villages?!” Lady Tsunade shouted passionately: “Wouldn’t that just be another war? Waging war against the Five Great Nations? That goes against grandfather’s pursuit of peace!”
Menma didn’t waver at her agitation. He slowly turned his head, his heterochromatic pupils fixed on Lady Tsunade, asking a question she had never considered—or rather, dared not deeply think about:
“Then, Lady Tsunade, please think calmly.”
“Just as Hashirama Senju ended the ninja clan conflicts within the Land of Fire, bringing decades of peace to the Land of Fire.”
“If back then, with his unrivaled power, Hashirama Senju had truly unified the entire Ninja World, integrating all countries and all ninja villages into one—making the whole world one country, one ninja village, one unified will…”
His voice wasn’t loud, yet it echoed and reverberated in Lady Tsunade’s mind:
“Then, through the efforts of two or three generations, using time to heal and dissolve the hatred and estrangement accumulated between ninja clans and countries—tell me, please.”
“Would those subsequent three Ninja Wars that swept the entire Ninja World, causing countless deaths and letting countless people including you endure unforgettable pain… still happen?”
“One country, one… ninja village?” Lady Tsunade was utterly frozen in place, her pupils trembling violently.
This simple concept, never thought of by anyone before, instantly overwhelmed all her thinking, shattering her decades of cognition to pieces.
She stared blankly at Menma, her mind blank, with only that earth-shattering question echoing repeatedly.
Would war still happen?
