The Daimyo of the Land of Water has arrived!
Kakashi, who had traveled all the way from Konoha, stood at the gates of Kirigakure, momentarily stunned by the sight before him.
A grand convoy of nearly three hundred people.
Drummers and gong beaters led the procession, with nearly seventy percent of the group composed of warriors acting as guards. Each one was elite—seasoned fighters whose calloused hands gripped their swords with ease. Kakashi recognized a few of them from intelligence reports—famous swordsmen whose faces were well-known across the continent.
At the front of the convoy was a large sedan chair. The curtain was pulled back to reveal a dignified, elegant woman holding a child around four or five years old.
Behind them followed five heavily loaded carriages covered in thick cloth, their contents hidden from view. The weight left deep ruts in the road, evidence that whatever they carried was substantial.
After entering the village, the convoy didn't head for the Mizukage building.
Instead, it moved in another direction.
"…Isn't that the direction of Logan's school?!"
The daimyo's crest was visible on several banners in the procession. Even the most uninformed villagers could guess their destination—and their purpose.
Logan.
A month ago, Logan had beheaded the previous Daimyo of the Land of Water in broad daylight.
Now, the response had arrived.
The villagers whispered anxiously as they watched the strange procession pass.
"Are there explosives in those carriages?"
"They're going to blow up Kirigakure, aren't they?"
"Who's the woman in the sedan?"
Wild rumors spread fast. By the end of the street, villagers speculated that the convoy carried five carts of explosives, intending to obliterate the village, and that the woman and child were sacrificial offerings to the dead daimyo.
But the civilians didn't know what the shinobi did.
The ninjas of Kirigakure, the intelligence operatives from various villages, and Kakashi himself—all recognized the woman in the sedan.
She was Saito Ayate, the wife of the new Daimyo of the Land of Water.
And the child in her arms was the daimyo's only son.
Kakashi's expression tightened.
What exactly was the new daimyo planning?
People are strange creatures. Even though they suspected danger, curiosity outweighed fear. The villagers followed the procession as it made its way toward Logan's open-air school.
Logan sat calmly in a chair at the center of the schoolyard.
Behind him stood Sasuke, Momo, Mayuri, Kohaku, and over thirty people from Hope Village.
Ten meters away, the convoy halted.
The warriors gave a command, and the entire procession fell silent.
A servant helped Saito Ayate down from the sedan chair. Holding her young son, she walked forward slowly, step by step, until she stood directly in front of Logan.
Then, she knelt.
One adult and one child.
The legal wife of the new Daimyo.
The eldest son and future Daimyo.
Both knelt before Logan, bowing their heads low in the most humble and reverent way possible.
Together, they spoke:
"The previous daimyo was incompetent and cruel, treating human life as worthless. He betrayed the people and disgraced our ancestors. We thank you, sir, for restoring order and saving the Land of Water from its suffering."
As their voices fell, the servants moved as if rehearsed. They lifted the tarps covering the five carriages.
Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd.
Carriage one: rare and ancient books.
Carriage two: gold, silver, and jewelry.
Carriage three: the finest silks and fabrics.
Carriage four: swords, spears, and armor.
Carriage five: a single robe and hat.
Kakashi's pupils contracted when he saw the fifth carriage.
It was the official garb of the Grand Minister of the Land of Water.
A position of immense power—second only to the Daimyo. Also called Taishu or Kokushi, the title was reserved for individuals of extraordinary virtue and wisdom.
It was almost never filled.
Only someone with overwhelming merit and the support of the people could take it.
Kakashi swallowed hard.
"Could it be…"
Saito Ayate raised her head and gestured toward the carriages.
"I know you don't care for material things," she said gently, "but great endeavors require resources. These are gifts from the new Daimyo."
She pointed to the official robe.
"And this is our plea. Sir, please return to the capital with us. The Land of Water is in ruins. We need someone wise and strong like you to rebuild it."
To kill the former daimyo—and be offered not only wealth, but an official title and total deference from the new one—was unprecedented.
Everyone watching was stunned.
This amount of treasure could elevate a commoner to nobility. This position could make Logan one of the most powerful men in the country.
All eyes were fixed on him—hungry, envious, and reverent.
But Logan didn't look the least bit pleased.
"So this is how the old bureaucratic faction responds…"
Logan had been waiting for the new daimyo's move.
If troops were sent, if assassins came, if Kirigakure was pressured to turn against him—it would all play into Logan's hands, deepening the conflict and fueling his cause.
But instead, they broke with the past.
They offered gifts. They offered rank.
If Logan accepted, in the villagers' eyes, he would no longer be "one of us."
He would become "one of them."
Even if he refused, the people—accustomed to compromise—would likely view the new daimyo as acceptable. They would try to get by and settle down.
In time, their desire for change would fade.
Logan sighed quietly.
"These career politicians… ten of me couldn't match one of them in tactics."
He walked forward and helped Saito Ayate to her feet.
Her beauty was modest, not stunning. But her composure, her demeanor—these were not the traits of a mere noblewoman. She was a strategist. A player in the grand game of politics.
"This is quite the move," Logan said. "But I'm not suited for politics. If I took office, half the court would be dead by day two."
Saito Ayate smiled.
"Then clearly, they deserved it. Let them die."
"Even your husband?"
"A daimyo who commits evil is no different than a criminal. If there's proof, why not execute him?"
Logan nodded.
This was how the bureaucracy worked.
When the previous daimyo's greed destroyed morale and gave rise to rebellious figures like Logan, the ruling class had two countermeasures:
First, absorb the rebels.
Second, install a "benevolent ruler" to pacify the people. Once a generation or two passed and the people had settled, the cycle of exploitation would resume.
Logan understood that if he accepted the offer, he'd live in wealth and respect. The country would prosper. The people would be content.
He might even go his whole life without finding any fault with the system.
But it would be a false prosperity.
The fundamental structure wouldn't change—it would just repeat.
Besides, if he went with them…
Where would he earn soul fragments?
Where would he extract his Stands?
How would he continue to grow stronger?
This was the world of shinobi.
Enemies would only become stronger.
The masked man wasn't dead. The tailed beasts still existed. Stronger enemies could appear at any time.
There was no way Logan would slow down.
Most importantly…
"A real man lives to rise above—not serve beneath."
He had come to this world with a system.
Was he supposed to live his life as someone else's pawn?
Logan looked her in the eyes.
"Please return," he said calmly. "I want none of what you've brought."
The crowd erupted in shock.
This was a fortune that could change anyone's life. A prestigious title, handed freely. And he rejected it without hesitation.
Everyone stood frozen, except Logan and Saito Ayate.
She seemed unsurprised. She gave a small nod and said:
"In that case, I have one more gift."
From behind the convoy, a slim swordsman stepped forward.
He wore a conical hat and a gray-white kimono. Two swords—one long, one short—hung at his waist.
His expression was blank, eyes cold and grey.
Like a sword still in its sheath.
"This is Mr. Miyamoto," Saito Ayate said. "The strongest swordsman in the Land of Water. He has heard of your skills, Logan, and wishes to challenge you.
If you win, I will exempt every town and village in the Land of Water from taxes. Do you accept?"
Miyamoto… Kakashi's face changed.
"Logan! Be careful of his swords!"
"The long blade can cut steel.
The short blade… can cut the soul."
The strongest swordsman of the Land of Water.
Logan understood the plan instantly.
When bribery failed, they switched to pressure—force Logan into a duel, using tax exemption to manipulate public sentiment.
If he refused, the people would resent him.
If he accepted, he risked death.
But Logan had been craving a real fight.
Now that Star Platinum could stop time, he hadn't had a worthy opponent to test it on.
This was the perfect opportunity.
"Is that all?" Logan asked.
Before Saito Ayate could reply, Miyamoto spoke.
"My job is simple—if there's a chance, I'll kill you in one blow. So don't hold back."
Logan blinked, then laughed.
A direct man. He liked that.
"Want to fight?" Miyamoto asked.
"Of course."
Miyamoto frowned. "Where's your sword?"
"Being reforged," Logan replied.
Miyamoto's eyes narrowed in anger.
He had come to fight a legend—and Logan didn't even have a blade?
"You're being arrogant!"
"No offense," Logan said. "But—"
Subtle golden ripples appeared on Logan's skin.
Star Platinum emerged behind him. Both the Stand and its master raised their arms and pointed at Miyamoto.
"Don't forget—you're the challenger."
The streetlights flickered. A gust of wind swept away the lingering mist.
The air felt heavy. Sharp. Like a blade pressing against everyone's throat.
"This is… the pressure Logan exudes when he gets serious!"
Kakashi's mouth fell open.
How much stronger had he gotten since they last met?
Logan raised a hand.
"You get three strikes," he told Miyamoto. "After that, you lose."
He waved him forward.
"Come. Show me what it means to be a samurai."
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