Honestly, Jaxon had to admit—his current identity was absolutely top-tier.
He stood as the young master of the second-most powerful noble family in the Land of Fire, second only to the Daimyo's household. But soon… very soon, once his plans bore fruit, that order would flip.
Jaxon would be number one.
The masked Anbu said nothing, merely nodded and disappeared using the Body Flicker Technique, vanishing like a shadow into the forest.
Jaxon remained, arms folded and a smirk playing across his face—cold, calculating, and arrogant.
"Friends?" he muttered to himself, scoffing. "What good are friends?"
His words echoed slightly in the quiet air, a whisper of contempt aimed not at anyone specific, but at the idea of friendship itself.
To him, friends were nothing more than tools—relationships built on convenience, driven by benefits, masked by fake smiles and shallow loyalty.
In a world of blood-soaked politics and hidden blades, who could afford to trust?
The Ninja World was cruel. A realm of power, secrecy, betrayal. Ninja weren't protectors—they were weapons, pawns forged by the system to serve. The concept of camaraderie? It was laughable.
Jaxon understood all this. He had never truly belonged to this world. He wasn't one of them. He merely existed within the world—an observer, a manipulator. Every person was a piece on the board, and he? He was the hand moving them.
Even Danzo, the infamous manipulator of shadows, the mastermind behind Root—Jaxon did not fear him. He had no reason to. As long as the deal benefited him, Jaxon would trade with the devil himself.
---
The Arrival of Danzo
The wait didn't last long.
Only ten minutes had passed when a gust of eerie wind swept the clearing, and Danzo Shimura appeared.
Leaning on his cane, face locked in its signature grim expression, he emerged from the treeline like a wraith. Following him were several Root members—emotionless, silent, and utterly unreadable behind their masks.
Jaxon didn't move. He simply raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"So, Elder Danzo has graced me with his presence," he said lightly. "It's good to see you're still in good health."
Danzo's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You were looking for me?"
His voice was dry and hoarse, like dead leaves scraped across stone. His tone—half accusation, half warning.
He stared at Jaxon with that sharp, hawk-like gaze, probing not just the boy's expression but everything behind it. This wasn't a glance—it was a dissection.
Jaxon met it head-on, completely unfazed.
This attitude, this casualness, irritated Danzo immensely. An outsider—worse, a young brat—daring to speak to him so informally? Unacceptable.
But Jaxon didn't care about what Danzo thought. He stood up and gestured politely. "Please, come inside. No need to stand around in the open."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and entered the villa behind him, stepping into the luxurious interior with all the confidence of someone entertaining a guest on his terms.
Yun Nai followed closely behind. With a smooth motion, she activated a chakra barrier around the living room—a transparent dome that shimmered slightly before becoming almost invisible. A perfect soundproof seal.
She then gave Jaxon a quick nod and left silently, with Whirlpool True following behind her.
The tension in the room instantly thickened.
Outside, Danzo gave a sharp glance to his Root members, and in a heartbeat, they vanished without a trace.
Now, only two remained—Jaxon and Danzo, seated across from each other in complete silence.
---
A Dangerous Conversation
Danzo didn't waste time. "Aren't you afraid I'll kill you right now?" he asked, his voice low and threatening.
Jaxon leaned back, completely relaxed. He casually crossed his legs and even rested them on the polished coffee table between them.
"Of course not," he replied with a faint smile. "You came here for business, Elder Danzo. You wouldn't waste your energy on something so... messy."
Danzo's eyes flared, but he didn't act.
Despite his notorious ruthlessness, Danzo wasn't a fool. He wouldn't strike unless the risk was minimal. And right now, too many variables surrounded Jaxon—his family, his influence, the Hyuga watching nearby...
Even Danzo had to play by certain rules.
Still, he made his displeasure clear.
"Hmph. You'd better have something worthwhile to say," Danzo growled.
Jaxon's smirk deepened. He had anticipated this exact response.
"Well then," he began, "let's talk about what kind of cooperation we might pursue."
Danzo blinked.
For a moment, he didn't move. Then, like a bear poked from slumber, he stood abruptly, his cane pressing into the floor as he unleashed a powerful surge of killing intent.
"What did you say?" he barked.
His chakra flared, a heavy oppressive force rolling toward Jaxon like a thunderclap.
Any ordinary person would have collapsed from sheer pressure. But Jaxon?
He merely raised an eyebrow.
Danzo's fury burned in the air—but Jaxon's calm was like ice, a cold, unshakable calm that refused to acknowledge the storm before him.
"I said, let's cooperate," Jaxon repeated, his voice as steady as ever. "You want control, influence, security. I want power, information, and access. We both have things the other wants."
"You think I need you?"
"I think," Jaxon said slowly, "you need what I represent."
Danzo was silent.
Jaxon leaned forward, folding his hands under his chin. "You see, Elder Danzo, the village is unstable. Between the tension with the other nations, the rumors of rebellion, and the economic fractures caused by the war… you can't keep Konoha afloat with strength alone."
Danzo didn't reply.
"You need allies who can fund your operations without asking too many questions. You need plausible deniability. You need someone outside the shinobi system who can move with freedom."
Still silence.
Jaxon smiled.
"And I need your intel network. I need access to specific files, movements, targets. I'll pay. In coin, in grain, in favors. And in return, you'll get a silent benefactor who knows how to keep secrets."
Danzo's eyes narrowed. "You're playing a dangerous game."
"And yet, I'm still alive." Jaxon's grin returned. "That tells me I'm playing it rather well."
Danzo let out a dry chuckle—more a sound of disbelief than humor.
This boy… no, this man, despite his age, was sharp. Cunning. Ambitious.
Danzo hated that.
But he respected it, too.
---
Terms of the Deal
After a long silence, Danzo finally spoke. "What do you want, specifically?"
Jaxon didn't hesitate. "I want records of all rogue shinobi movements in the past six months. I want Root to delay surveillance on the Whirlpool members under my protection. And I want access to two border smuggling routes—the ones between the Land of Fire and the Land of Rivers."
Danzo's lips thinned. "And in return?"
Jaxon stood up and walked toward a nearby drawer. From it, he pulled out a sealed scroll and tossed it onto the table.
Danzo opened it.
Inside were trade contracts—grain shipments, medicinal supply chains, and military ration delivery routes—each carefully designed to flow through channels under Jaxon's control.
"This will cut your operating costs by 40%," Jaxon said. "And no one will trace it to you."
Danzo stared at the scroll.
He said nothing for a full minute. Then he rolled it back up slowly and tucked it into his cloak.
The deal was unspoken, but clear.
He gave a low grunt. "You'll get your files tomorrow."
Jaxon nodded. "Pleasure doing business with you, Elder Danzo."
Danzo turned toward the exit without another word. But just before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder.
"Don't mistake this for friendship."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Jaxon replied, already pouring himself tea. "This is war, after all."
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