Aburame Ryōma's fingertips brushed across the toxin analysis report, parasitic insects occasionally crawling over his body with a faint rustling sound.
But his mind wasn't truly on the report. Reports like this weren't only produced by the corpse-processing division — Konoha Hospital was doing the same, and medical-nin on the frontlines were also sending in fragmented analyses.
What Aburame Ryōma needed was to ensure that the department under his control was involved in the antidote research process, so he wouldn't be left in the dark about it.
After all, when it came to creating antidotes, he was far inferior to Tsunade.
More importantly, the deaths of a batch of ordinary shinobi did not cause him the slightest hesitation. What caught his interest instead was the content Morino Isuke had reported — tiny words written on a scroll describing intelligence that suggested Kaede Tsukasa might have improved upon "Dead Soul technique."
There was even some rough progress noted.
"Compared to the standard Dead Soul technique, it can control corpses for longer. Sounds a little like a puppeteer's technique, but without chakra threads. Could Kaede Tsukasa actually have the talent to develop ninjutsu? That lines up with the questionable part of Kazamatsuri Takuno's oral report."
The thought flashed in Aburame Ryōma's mind, but vanished as quickly as it came. He would never regret it. Back when he had personally picked through a group of war orphans for potential recruits, he hadn't considered Kaede Tsukasa worth choosing. He hadn't valued him then, and he valued him even less now.
Zombie Release wasn't some overwhelmingly difficult ninjutsu. Even if someone managed to refine and improve it, that wasn't enough to make Kaede Tsukasa into a powerful shinobi of importance.
For war orphans like him, simply surviving under the name of a Konoha shinobi was already a tremendous stroke of luck. They had to stake their lives to burn for the village.
"Besides, this so-called improved Zombie Release may not even have been developed by Kaede Tsukasa. He might just be struggling to learn it, nothing more… Isn't that right, shrine maiden — no, I should use your new name now… Yakushi Nonō." Aburame Ryōma's cheeks writhed as countless insects crawled out.
"If Tsunade knew what you were doing, she wouldn't agree. The Will of Fire and the ideology of Root are in conflict."
Yakushi Nonō stepped out from the shadows, adjusting her glasses as the lenses caught the light. "Coming back to a place like this again… I feel no attachment at all."
Buzz!
Ryōma's swarm suddenly surged toward her throat — but froze half an inch away from her skin. Between her fingers, Yakushi Nonō held a vial of pale red liquid, letting a single drop fall casually. "This is a toxin I prepared especially for you. It has a unique affinity for the ganglia of your insects."
"So it's poison after all. I thought you might counter me by using the improved Dead Soul technique instead — perhaps making a corpse self-detonate."
Aburame Ryōma's tone was cold. "Teaching such a vile ninjutsu to war orphans isn't your style. The more talented those orphans are, the less likely they are to live long. Instead, they'll be forced into even more dangerous missions — and die even faster."
Yakushi Nonō thought silently. She did have some impression of Kaede Tsukasa — frail, skin and bones, burdened with bitterness, rarely approaching anyone.
Within half a year of her taking over the orphanage, Kaede Tsukasa had chosen to leave, and after that, they had almost no contact.
And yet Ryōma believed she had taught him Dead Soul technique… Logically speaking, she was indeed the only one who could have.
Yakushi Nonō didn't argue. She simply said, "It was my duty to protect every child who survived the war. Ordinary genin hardly stood a chance of surviving on the battlefield anyway. This war is even more brutal and bloody than the First Shinobi War over twenty years ago. No one can say with certainty they'll live through it. But… that's no excuse for you to threaten me with the orphanage's funds."
"So you've come to negotiate with me?"
"No, I'm here to warn you."
"To keep me away from the children you care so much about? The shrine maiden feared across nations… turns out you're just an overly sentimental fool. You'll be disappointed. More children will soon be stepping onto the battlefield."
Aburame Ryōma's tone was cold: "Our war against Sunagakure is going poorly. We need more shinobi sent to the front, especially medical-nin who have some ability to counteract their poisons."
Amegakure and Sunagakure — wars with these two villages consumed the most medical-nin. That also meant even the orphans who had learned half-baked medical ninjutsu would inevitably be pushed to the frontlines.
That was the will of the village: everything for victory.
"I can protect two or three of the younger children for you," Ryōma said. "And I'll also make sure the orphanage's funding arrives on time."
"You want me to what, infiltrate Sunagakure and steal poison intelligence? That's nearly impossible. After her son and daughter-in-law were killed by Hatake Sakumo, Chiyo has devoted herself completely to revenge against Konoha. She won't leave weaknesses in her trump cards."
"No, she has one. Chiyo still has a grandson." Aburame Ryōma tossed a long-prepared mission dossier toward Yakushi Nonō. "Abduction, deception, disguise — whatever means you need. Gather as much intelligence as possible. If you can, prioritize defense maps, financial reserves, and other critical information from Sunagakure."
When it came to espionage, Ryōma knew he didn't need to instruct Yakushi Nonō on the how. He only needed to set the outcome; she would find the way.
"Akasuna no Sasori…" Yakushi Nonō read the name written on the scroll, committing it to memory.
Not long after, a mission order for the frontlines arrived in Kaede Tsukasa's hands.
Although he had been mentally prepared — knowing he would inevitably be sent back to the battlefield — he hadn't expected it to come so quickly.
"Our opponent is Sunagakure… Looks like our efforts have borne fruit. Compared to others, we medical-nin can last a little longer even after poisoning."
Morino Isuke's expression quickly steadied. He ordered the temporary closure of the corpse-processing division.
"This is probably the follow-up to that B-rank mission," Kaede Tsukasa said calmly.
"When the war is over, perhaps some of us will survive to continue this work in the department," Morino Isuke added. "We leave in three hours. Prepare yourselves."
No one spoke. Each silently organized their gear.
For someone like Kaede Tsukasa, who had no clan or family to care for, it was only natural to spend every last coin on ninja tools for survival.
With so many chūnin and genin dying in the war, the only one with even slightly higher odds of survival was Morino Isuke, as a tokubetsu jōnin. The rest dared not claim they could make it back alive.
"Well, since it's come to this… I might as well prepare more."
Kaede Tsukasa walked straight to the memorial stone outside. Many of the nameless corpses buried here had been laid to rest by his own hands. Now, it was time to dig them up.
A fresh grave in the southeast corner shifted, and a Rain Zombie clawed its way out of its coffin, staggering toward Kaede Tsukasa.
More graves began to stir.
"Shame. In these past two months, I've only managed to acquire two jōnin-class zombies. Still, for emergencies, that should be enough. After all, I'm only a genin."
There had been some jōnin corpses sent through the processing division, but Kaede Tsukasa had only been able to secure two.
At this time, Sunagakure was at its most frenzied. If Konoha could just endure, its overwhelming resources would eventually wear down the impoverished village.
But before defeat, the enemy's desperate counterattack required people like Kaede Tsukasa to stall them.
Shff!
Kaede Tsukasa unrolled a sealing scroll, beginning to store one zombie after another inside. With each corpse sealed away, another "尸" character appeared on the scroll.
Of course, he wasn't inscribing the sealing techniques himself — he was using pre-made ninja tool scrolls that only required placing the designated object inside.
By dawn, a five-man squad had gathered. They set off westward, marching toward the Land of Wind.