Chapter 17 — The Greedy One
"Lord Nobunaga!"
After finalizing domestic affairs and arranging a rendezvous with the bounty hunter Kakuzu, summoned by Kinoshita Jirō,
Oda Nobunaga led his elite shinobi unit on the road out of the Land of Fields.
As they marched, Zōmajirō cast a wary glance toward the rear of the column — where two figures trailed silently.
Both wore pale garments, one with white hair and bone-like features, the other exuding a dangerous, feral aura.
Kimimaro and Jūgo.
Their presence alone made him uneasy.
"Why, my lord," Zōmajirō whispered, frowning, "did you agree to let those two come along? They're obviously Orochimaru's spies — he's trying to exploit your campaign for his own benefit!"
He didn't hide his hostility.
Zōmajirō distrusted Orochimaru more than anyone — that snake-like man who slithered in and out of politics, all charm and menace.
Even though Nobunaga had repeatedly stated that Orochimaru was a necessary evil for the development of the Land of Sound,
and even though Zōmajirō knew he couldn't defeat him in a fight,
his loyalty to Nobunaga burned too fiercely to tolerate the man's shadow anywhere near his master.
And by extension, his hatred naturally extended to Orochimaru's protégés — Kimimaro and Jūgo.
To him, they were dangerous liabilities, not allies.
"It's fine," Nobunaga said calmly.
He turned his head slightly, glancing at the two figures trailing behind them.
Kimimaro's eyes were cold and quiet; Jūgo's, turbulent like an untamed storm.
Nobunaga's expression softened with faint amusement.
"They are not loyal to Orochimaru out of faith — only desperation.
They are broken souls clinging to the first hand that reached for them.
That makes them… easy to understand."
He paused, a knowing glint flashing in his eyes.
"And if I understand them, I can win them."
Orochimaru's influence might be deep, but Nobunaga was not without his own methods.
Rumors about the true power behind the Land of Sound had already begun spreading across the ninja world —
half-truths woven by Nobunaga's own agents.
If lies could be believed long enough, they became truth.
And when that day came, even Orochimaru's subordinates would start to question who their real master was.
As Nobunaga withdrew his gaze, his peripheral vision caught the sight of Princess Koyuki.
Under the watchful eye of Asama Sandayū, she rode quietly,
her pale blue cloak fluttering in the wind, eyes uncertain, nervous — like a startled rabbit.
For a brief moment, her gaze met Nobunaga's.
Instantly, she looked away, cheeks flushing crimson, her composure vanishing.
Even the soldiers around them noticed, whispering to one another and exchanging knowing smiles.
Nobunaga pretended not to notice, though the corner of his mouth curved almost imperceptibly.
The journey continued in tense silence.
The most direct route from the Land of Fields to the Land of Snow was to move north —
through the borders of Iron, Taki, and Fire, before cutting across the Land of Earth.
That was what everyone expected Nobunaga to do.
It was safe, practical, and politically neutral.
Yet, when they reached the intersection where the borders of the Lands of Earth, Taki, Fire, and Grass met —
Oda Nobunaga abruptly turned south, leading the entire unit straight into the Land of Grass.
The soldiers exchanged confused looks, but no one dared question him aloud.
After hours of travel through the overgrown marshlands, they finally stopped near a hidden ravine, not far from the village of Kusagakure.
There — waiting calmly in the shadows — stood a tall, grim man with stitched skin and eyes that measured everything in ryo.
Kakuzu.
At first, everyone assumed Nobunaga had simply taken a detour to meet the infamous bounty hunter.
But when they considered the unnecessary distance and the risk of traveling through foreign territory, confusion set in.
Why go this far just to meet one mercenary?
He could've just sent for him quietly, or arranged a meeting closer to home.
No one could figure it out.
That is, until Kakuzu opened his mouth.
"Oi," the bounty hunter growled, his tone dripping with disdain.
"So you're the so-called Daimyō of the Land of Fields, huh?"
His mismatched eyes glinted with greed and mockery.
"Tell me—" he leaned forward, voice low and dangerous,
"—how much are you worth dead?"
The air froze.
Every ninja in Nobunaga's entourage instinctively reached for their weapons —
but their lord merely smiled.
Unbothered. Unshaken.
"That depends," Nobunaga said, meeting Kakuzu's gaze without fear.
"Do you think you can afford me?"
A ripple of tension passed through the camp.
And then, to everyone's disbelief — the boy who had outwitted nobles, humbled warriors, and charmed nations — began to laugh softly.
A bold, confident, and utterly disarming sound.
"Relax. I didn't come here to fight," he continued.
"I came here to do business."
Those eerie green eyes, cold and calculating, turned toward Nobunaga.
He said flatly.
"You came to me, that means you pay. Whether I do the job or not — you pay."
"Miss one coin…" he leaned forward, voice dropping to a growl, "and I'll flatten your precious Land of Fields myself."
The air froze.
Every ninja present tensed instantly — steel rasped as hands reached for kunai.
To threaten their lord like that… and so casually? Unforgivable.
But Kakuzu didn't so much as flinch.
His stare was fixed only on Nobunaga, measuring him — not with respect, but with market value.
Nobunaga raised a hand, halting his subordinates before blood was spilled.
He stepped forward calmly, brushing past his anxious guards.
"This is your advance payment," he said simply.
He tossed a small leather pouch toward Kakuzu.
It landed with a heavy clink.
The bounty hunter caught it easily, weighing it in one hand.
He didn't even bother to open it — the weight, the texture, the familiar metallic scent told him everything.
Pure gold ryo. Real money.
Kakuzu's expression softened instantly, greed gleaming in his eyes as he tucked the pouch into his cloak with almost tender care.
"Heh… I like a client who understands how business works."
His tone was still rough, but there was approval there — the grudging respect one predator gives another.
He even smirked faintly, pride leaking through his usual gruffness.
After all, this was a man who once fought the First Hokage and lived to tell the tale.
And now, a teenage Daimyō had the gall — and the gold — to hire him.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
But then Kakuzu's gaze slid past Nobunaga —
to the rear of the formation, where Kimimaro and Jūgo stood quietly.
The moment his eyes landed on Kimimaro's pale skin and serpentine features, his smirk vanished.
"Hn… they're with Orochimaru, aren't they?"
The words hung in the air like poison.
Instantly, the previously calm atmosphere ignited with tension.
The name Orochimaru still carried weight — especially for one who had betrayed Akatsuki in such spectacular fashion.
Kimimaro's expression didn't change.
He silently drew one of his own bone blades, its polished white surface gleaming like ivory.
Beside him, Jūgo's breathing deepened — his face twisting, muscles rippling as the feral instincts within him began to stir.
In an instant, the killing intent in the camp spiked.
"They have nothing to do with Orochimaru," Nobunaga said calmly.
"And you saw nothing."
A second pouch arced through the air.
Kakuzu caught it out of reflex — his eyes widening slightly at the weight.
He didn't even need to look. It was heavier than the first. Much heavier.
His expression flickered.
Not because he doubted Nobunaga's words.
Not because he feared Kimimaro or Jūgo.
No — his only dilemma was…
Where the hell am I supposed to put all this gold?
He glanced down at his chest, where the first pouch already hung heavily inside his cloak, bulging awkwardly.
As a ninja, balance and agility mattered — but as a businessman, so did profit margin.
His brow furrowed in genuine annoyance.
"Tch… This is getting impractical."
"Have you confirmed the information I asked for?" Nobunaga asked, taking another small pouch from Zōmajirō and tossing it over without breaking stride.
At the mere sight of gold, Kakuzu's frustration evaporated like dew in sunlight.
"Found them! Found them!" he said, nodding so quickly it was almost comical.
"There's a pair — a mother and daughter — from the Uzumaki Clan hiding in Kusagakure.
The mother's half-dead already, but the kid's protected. Once the mother dies…"
He smirked darkly, his tone dipping lower.
"Well, let's just say she won't stay protected for long."
There was venom in his voice — the kind that only came from experience.
He'd seen too many shinobi villages chew through their own people like disposable weapons.
Once, he had been one of them.
"You don't even need to hire some traitor in Kusagakure," he added, almost casually.
"Give the job to me, and I'll have them out before sundown. Clean and quiet."
Another pouch of gold flew through the air.
Kakuzu caught it, delighted — but Nobunaga shook his head.
"No. The extraction must come from Kusagakure itself.
The village must hand them over willingly."
Kakuzu frowned, clearly not understanding.
But a paying client was a paying client.
He shrugged, clutching the bags of gold like precious children.
"You're the boss," he muttered. "Whatever makes you happy."
And just like that, the Akatsuki's infamous miser became Oda Nobunaga's most enthusiastic business partner.
As for Kimimaro and Jūgo?
He didn't see them.
Didn't hear their names.
Hell, as far as Kakuzu was concerned, Orochimaru was a beloved brother and partner in enterprise.
"Oh, right, Kakuzu," Nobunaga called out as they began moving toward the temporary encampment.
"Do you know any puppet masters with real skill?
I'm willing to pay a high price for the information — or double if you bring me one directly."
Kakuzu paused mid-step, his stitched mouth curling into something that could only be described as predatory delight.
"Puppet master, huh?"
He chuckled lowly.
"I might know one or two…
and they're worth every coin you've got."
As Nobunaga walked ahead, Kakuzu's mind was already calculating —
weighing risks, connections, and most importantly… profit margins.
There was a certain red-haired Akatsuki member he could sell information about —
a scorpion who fancied himself eternal.
And Kakuzu, ever the businessman, could already see the glint of gold in that transaction.
Yes, he thought with a grin.
If there's one thing I believe in — it's that everything and everyone has a price.