Survival—an instinct embedded deep in the DNA of every sentient being.
Driven by this instinct, even a shut-in who had never so much as killed a fish in his past life could erupt with terrifying resolve when his life was on the line!
Fueled by that desperation, the new Shiba Kiyokawa adapted to life in the Shinobi world with astonishing speed.
And from there, he began planning his path to survival.
According to the system's simulations, his most likely death would occur in the Land of Rain, with a high probability that the Akatsuki would be directly involved.
So naturally, a few months ago, his first thought was to leave the Akatsuki.
But the very night he tried to slip away without a word, the probability of dying to "revenge from rogue shinobi in the Land of Rain" skyrocketed past 70%!
Even worse, the system added a slew of new possible deaths—killed by Iwagakure shinobi, assassinated by Konohagakure shinobi, eliminated by Sunagakure operatives… and so on.
The "death from old age" probability? It began flickering so erratically he feared it would vanish altogether.
Ah… such a painful realization—turns out, the Akatsuki is my only shield in this world.
It became clear: leaving the Akatsuki would only lead to a faster, uglier death.
So the very next morning, he slunk back to the Akatsuki's hideout in disgrace.
To outsiders, that return marked a visible shift—the moment Kiyokawa turned dark.
Since he couldn't escape… the only choice left was to change.
Instead of wasting time tearing himself apart, he would lose his mind tearing others apart.
The first time he manipulated an Akatsuki member into breaking Yahiko's pacifist orders and executing a group of murderous rogue shinobi, the system updated again.
The chance of death by "vengeful rogue ninja in the land of rain" dropped a full 4%.
Most of that risk was redistributed to various scenarios involving death in Konoha years later—but more importantly, the "peaceful death" percentage ticked up to 0.2%!
A qualitative leap! His odds of dying of old age had doubled!
To reward him, the system issued his first set of bonuses:
[Slight increase in physical conditioning]
[Slight increase in total chakra]
[Basic proficiency in Ninja Tool Throwing]
[Basic proficiency in the Three Basic Jutsu]
[Basic proficiency in Taijutsu]
[Basic proficiency in Kenjutsu]
No, he didn't become the next Kizaru or Fujitora overnight, but at least he stopped being a total fraud. He was now a genuine, qualified shinobi.
Before long, he even earned the position of squad captain in the Akatsuki—which, back then, was still little more than a grassroots startup.
But more importantly, this gave Kiyokawa insight.
In his own analysis, the future downfall of the Akatsuki could be traced back to one root cause: Yahiko.
The organization's first leader was too kindhearted—to the point of naivety.
And worse, he carried an almost obsessive attachment to his homeland.
Yahiko's dream always prioritized peace across the shinobi world, where people could understand one another. But a close second was always to rebuild and uplift the Land of Rain.
It's mentioned multiple times in the original work—his desire to help his homeland escape suffering was genuine.
But this mixture of idealism and sentimentality made Yahiko dangerously indecisive when it came to matters inside the Land of Rain.
Against foreign shinobi, the Akatsuki could be pragmatic, cold, and ruthless.
But when it came to enemies from within the Land of Rain, Yahiko would always see the best in people—even when he shouldn't.
To Shiba Kiyokawa, it was no surprise that Yahiko would eventually let down his guard around Hanzo of the Salamander, and get betrayed. It was simply the natural result of Yahiko's mindset.
Yahiko truly embodied the phrase, "Ame ninja don't hurt Ame ninja."
Too bad the rest of the world had no such restraint.
Once Kiyokawa understood the root of the problem, he knew he had to act.
So for the past few months, the ideological clash between him and Yahiko had only grown worse—leading to multiple public arguments.
Yahiko always wanted to give the people of the Land of Rain another chance. He believed that his ideals could win them over.
But Kiyokawa? He just wanted to eliminate every possible future threat to his survival.
Yahiko called him too extreme.
Kiyokawa thought he was still too soft.
After all, wasn't Akatsuki's second leader a lunatic who believed in mutually assured destruction? If you wanted the world to feel pain, you'd better be ready to slaughter millions, right?
Compared to Nagato, the heir to Yahiko's dream, Kiyokawa was just warming up.
Of course, Yahiko didn't know any of this.
So when the mission report scroll landed on his desk this time, Yahiko—unsurprisingly—exploded with rage.
"Damn it! Not a single prisoner captured?
But somehow, they just happened to wipe out a group of Iwa spies on their way back—without leaving a single survivor?!
That little bastard Kiyokawa… does he think I'm stupid?!"
Just then, Konan, who had been working on logistics nearby, happened to walk in and asked gently:
"Yahiko? Are you angry over Kiyokawa again?"
This version of Konan wasn't yet the melancholic, elegant woman of the canon timeline. At fourteen, she still resembled a flower bud not yet in bloom.
Her warmth often served as a healing salve within the fractured Akatsuki.
But even in front of her, Yahiko couldn't fully control his temper this time.
"Yes—again, it's that Kiyokawa! He used some excuse to kill all the surrendering prisoners again! That's the fourth time this month!"
"Why is he always so extreme? Why can't he understand our ideals?"
"People can understand each other. Even if those men made mistakes, if they come to understand our beliefs, they can still become our comrades! Isn't that how we all came together in the first place?"
Konan stayed quiet for a while before finally offering a soft reassurance.
"Maybe Kiyokawa's just going through a rebellious phase. Remember? He wasn't always like this…"
"I believe, in time, he'll come to embrace your ideals again."
After all, Yahiko's ideals—and the Akatsuki's founding principles—weren't born from nothing.
They came from their shared teacher: Jiraiya.
Unfortunately, Jiraiya had passed on his ideals to his three pupils—Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato—but had never taught them how to achieve those ideals.
What Jiraiya taught during those years was, in truth, empty rhetoric.
Because even he didn't know how to bring peace—he could only cling to the vague prophecy foretold by the toads.
Konan then added, "Give Kiyokawa a little more time. We still need his intelligence, don't we?"
For an organization that lacked methodology and a clear roadmap, a brilliant strategist was essential.
That's why, despite all the fights between Kiyokawa and Yahiko, the boy still retained his position as captain.
No matter how "excessive" his methods were, every mission assigned to Shiba Kiyokawa in the past few months had ended in success.
He'd even stepped in to help other teams and offered several solutions that were morally questionable but undeniably effective.
So even as Yahiko clenched his teeth in frustration, he had to admit—Konan was right.
"…That brat… sigh."
The room fell silent again.
Eventually, Konan gently offered, "How about I go with Kiyokawa on the next mission? Maybe I can talk to him…"
Yahiko hesitated, then nodded.
"Alright. I'm counting on you, Konan."