"There's one more thing. I'll be leaving Konoha in about two months."
Tsunade's face showed a rare hint of fatigue, but it was quickly replaced by a look of absolute seriousness.
"Before then, you must master the Mystical Palm Technique and the Healing Seal you're currently using."
"Don't worry about what happens after I leave; I'll communicate with you or meet you regularly every so often."
Naraku's talent for ninjutsu was exceptionally high, surpassing anyone Tsunade had seen in years.
With his aptitude, these requirements would be no trouble at all.
As for why Tsunade was leaving Konoha, the reason was obvious.
Konoha was already a place of sorrow for her.
Her return to the village was not only at Sakumo's request to treat Naraku, but also because her grandmother, Uzumaki Mito, was nearing the end of her days.
Mito's life force was fading after the Nine-Tails had been extracted, and Tsunade wanted to accompany her last remaining relative through the final journey of her life.
Given Mito's physical condition, she would likely last until the end of next month.
By then, Tsunade would have no family left.
Once her grandmother passed and Naraku's condition stabilized, she would have no reason to stay—not even for half a day longer.
"Yes," Naraku replied seriously to the arrangement, offering no dissatisfaction or objection.
"I will work hard to achieve it."
After Naraku left, a figure quietly emerged in the office where Tsunade remained alone.
A slightly hoarse male voice spoke, carrying the relaxed familiarity of old acquaintances.
"If Jiraiya came back and found you had just left, would he pound his chest in frustration?"
"Who cares about him!"
Tsunade waved her hand impatiently, complaining, "Didn't I tell you I needed more time to consider? Your experiments might not even work on him."
The black-haired man slowly walked toward Tsunade's desk.
His pale skin looked as if it hadn't seen sunlight in many years, and his golden, snake-like eyes were surrounded by purple markings.
"But ordinary methods are no longer effective for him. At most, he has a few years left; you know that in your heart."
"Tsk."
Tsunade tapped her fingers impatiently on the desk, looking at him suspiciously.
"Orochimaru, are you really that kind-hearted? Even if he's Sakumo's student, it's not worth you proactively coming to help, is it?"
Orochimaru didn't mind Tsunade's attitude in the slightest, maintaining a polite, thin smile.
"We've been old acquaintances for many years, Tsunade."
"To be honest, my lab is short on funds."
"I imagine the Uchiha Clan won't easily give up on that child, especially since you believe he can master the Mystical Palm Technique and the Healing Seal within two months—a genius with such extraordinary talent."
Tsunade rolled her eyes.
"I knew it; you really don't do anything without a personal gain."
The mission Minato and Kakashi were on was simple: escort a merchant caravan out of the Land of Fire and hand them over to another team of shinobi once they entered the Land of Rain.
It was said that the Land of Rain had recently renovated two trade routes, allowing passage for a very low transit fee.
This reduced transportation costs by nearly thirty percent compared to before.
As soon as the news broke, it immediately attracted countless merchants and vendors, both big and small.
The perennially rainy Land of Rain was suddenly bustling.
Caravans passed continuously on the roads.
Quick-witted local merchants had already started hotels and taverns, earning a fortune.
Growing businesses required more employees, which in turn allowed many commoners to find work to support their families.
In a short time, the number of refugees in the Land of Rain had sharply decreased, and the turbulent situation had slightly appeased.
"So that's how it is. The leader of the Land of Rain is very far-sighted."
Minato, sitting in the carriage, listened to his employer's introduction and offered his praise.
"The roads weren't built by the authorities of the Land of Rain."
The old merchant chuckled and waved his hand, a thoughtful and reminiscent expression appearing on his face.
"It is said to be an organization called 'Akatsuki.' They completed it within half a month."
"Even now, they are still continuously expanding the roads."
"They are truly remarkable fellows, hahaha."
The old man laughed, his eyes catching sight of a worker fumbling with the cargo.
He quickly ran over and slapped the back of the man's head.
"Clumsy! You can't even tie a knot properly!"
Seeing that the employer would be busy for a while, Minato withdrew his gaze and quietly observed Kakashi, who was sitting on the other side.
The boy was vigilantly watching the road, guarding against any enemies that might emerge.
"What do you think about this, Kakashi?"
Minato initiated the conversation, genuinely believing in the potential of the idea.
"Using shinobi power to build roads and bridges is indeed very convenient; it's much faster than ordinary people working without chakra."
"Hmm, I did something like that when I was a Genin…"
Kakashi's words trailed off.
He and Naraku had once received a mission to help villagers repair a road.
If he hadn't known Earth Style, he didn't know how long they would have been working.
But even with Earth Style, both of them were covered in dust and grime when they returned home.
At that time, while he was busy changing clothes, he had vaguely heard Naraku say…
"The productivity of a shinobi is much higher than that of an ordinary person."
"Hmm? What productivity?"
Minato's question pulled Kakashi out of his memories.
He realized he had zoned out while talking to his senior and had even subconsciously repeated Naraku's words.
"No, nothing."
Kakashi quickly regained his mission-appropriate demeanor and apologized, lowering his head.
"I'm sorry, Minato-senpai, I zoned out just now."
"It's fine, don't worry about it."
Minato smiled gently, his face showing genuine curiosity.
"But I'm more interested in the 'productivity' you just mentioned. Could you tell me about it?"
"Perhaps it just means that shinobi can accomplish more in the same amount of time?"
Kakashi averted his gaze, unconsciously rubbing the hilt of his sword to ease the restlessness in his heart.
"I heard it from Na—someone else. I don't really understand the meaning."
Minato vaguely understood the slip of the tongue and chuckled.
"The person who came up with that idea is truly remarkable."
"Uh, yeah…"
Kakashi mumbled his agreement.
Because he had just thought of Naraku, his thoughts uncontrollably drifted off again.
He wondered how the boy was doing now.
After leaving Tsunade's office, Naraku went straight to Sakumo's private hospital room.
Although the room was small, it had a very large window.
Sunlight streamed through the glass, filling the room and making it warm and comfortable.
Sakumo was sleeping on the bed in the very center, his expression peaceful.
It was as if he were only in a brief, light slumber.
Naraku pulled up a stool and sat by the bed.
He used the basic Medical Ninjutsu he had learned to examine the body, guide the chakra flow, and massage the long-unused muscles.
The deeper he delved into medical knowledge, the clearer it became that Sakumo's chances of waking naturally were slim.
It seemed things were as he had thought before; he would have to use popularity points to create a miracle under the guise of Medical Ninjutsu.
To completely heal Sakumo would require a massive amount of popularity points, so he needed to find more ways to fleece the audience.
And that black mud wasn't idle either; Zetsu was likely plotting every day how to promote the Infinite Tsukuyomi Plan to him.
If Naraku didn't play along, Zetsu would probably harm those around him.
Therefore, it was impossible to stay cooped up in the Uchiha Clan compound forever.
Nor could he be "healed" by anyone else.
Once Tsunade left Konoha, he would also have to start acting.
A gentle breeze blew through the window, and the bright sunlight made Naraku feel sleepy.
The massage was almost done, so he put down Sakumo's arm and leaned on the side of the bed.
He prepared to doze off for a bit.
After thinking for a moment, he pulled Sakumo's left hand over and placed it on his own head.
He pretended he could briefly be a carefree child again and slowly drifted into sleep under his father's comforting touch.