Chapter 221: The World Unleashed

The roar of the Three-Tails gradually weakened.

A chakra construct of this magnitude could never have been a match for Hiruzen Sarutobi and Orochimaru.

Yet, even though the rampage of the tailed beast had begun to subside, the nerves of Konohagakure remained on edge.

The issue of how to deal with the Three-Tails was a thorny matter, but the diplomatic relationship with the Land of Water was an even more delicate minefield.

However, Konoha's most immediate threat was—That the search teams still couldn't find Obito Uchiha!

The aftermath of the large-scale decline of the Hyuga Clan four years ago had started to show its effects.

Konoha's investigative ability had significantly decreased, and their control over the internal environment was no longer as solid as an iron wall. Moreover, Zetsu was an expert at concealment and evasion, so despite several attempts, Konoha had found nothing.

The sun set, and the waning moon rose.

In the dark night, Konoha was lit brightly, with shinobi teams spread throughout the entire village, like a web, infiltrating every hidden corner, continually searching for any trace of Obito.

...

"Damn Konoha shinobi…"

In a certain alley, Zetsu, carrying the unconscious Obito Uchiha on his back, hid in the shadows, only emerging after the search team passed by.

Obito's condition had improved significantly. Zetsu had transplanted a large number of Hashirama cells into Obito's body. Even though he was still unable to move, at least he wasn't in immediate danger of dying.

However, if Obito were to regain his combat abilities, a series of major surgeries would be necessary. Furthermore, aside from physical recovery, what troubled Zetsu more was what to use to fill Obito's empty eye sockets.

"I don't need to think too much about it; let's get out of Konoha first. Obito, can you hold on?"

After waiting for a long time, Zetsu finally heard a faint, weak hum from Obito.

Within this barely audible response was an unmistakable undercurrent of hatred.

Obito once again found himself falling into endless darkness. As long as he could survive this night, his chakra would undergo a qualitative change... that is, if he actually lived to see tomorrow.

After sneaking around for another ten minutes, Zetsu suddenly stopped and crouched by the corner of a wall.

"No, we can't get out; there are too many Konoha shinobi," Zetsu clenched his fists and growled, "It seems we'll have to fight our way out."

"Wait…" At that moment, Obito suddenly spoke. He seemed to have gathered some strength and, suppressing his pain, slowly said, "I can no longer hear the Three-Tails' roar. What happened?"

"I don't know, maybe Hiruzen and the others dealt with the Three-Tails."

"Which means they could show up at any moment... Forget it, Zetsu, there's no way you'll be able to break through."

"Then what do we do? Should we give up?"

"No, not give up. Instead, we'll bet everything on one last gamble!" Obito gritted his teeth and said, "I can't see anything. Where are we right now?"

"The street sign says South Inn Sixth Street."

"Good. Zetsu, follow this street north. Turn west at the first intersection and keep going straight… Let's hope the village's layout hasn't changed. When you see a dark green house, go inside."

"Huh? Isn't that in the heart of Konoha?"

"That's exactly the point. The search teams won't be as concentrated in the core area as they are on the outskirts… Go, Zetsu. That's our only hope for survival."

Zetsu had no other choice but to follow the instructions. He carried Obito and headed towards the depths of Konoha.

It didn't take long before they arrived in front of the dark green house.

With a creak, Zetsu opened the window and jumped inside, placing Obito gently on a sofa. After ensuring no one was present, he treated Obito's ruptured wounds. A few minutes passed before Zetsu finally had time to carefully inspect the house.

"Such a strong smell of alcohol…" Zetsu wrinkled his nose.

"Where are we?" Obito, his empty eye sockets facing forward, spoke calmly.

"I've only been here a few times, but knowing the person who lives here, the photos on the wall should still be hanging in the living room."

"Hmm... Wait, is that... a young Hiruzen and the Sannin in their youth?"

"That's right. This place is…"

Before they could finish speaking, the door suddenly opened from the outside.

A middle-aged man, reeking of alcohol, wheeled himself into the living room, his face flushed red.

This was Jiraiya's home.

The moment the door closed, Jiraiya sensed something was wrong—despite losing his legs five years ago, a shinobi's instincts were still deeply ingrained in his body, and the alcohol could not completely dull his sharp senses.

Without any hesitation, an explosive tag appeared in Jiraiya's hand. His thoughts were simple: as long as he detonated it, a large number of shinobi would come to investigate, leaving Zetsu and Obito with no place to hide!

As for himself…

If he died, then so be it. For a crippled shinobi, perhaps dying for the village was the best end.

"Jiraiya-sama…" Obito suddenly spoke up.

"Zetsu, don't move. I want to have a word with Jiraiya-sama."

"Talk? Obito, you can't see it, but he's holding an explosive tag!"

"Shut up," Obito's tone was soft but firm. "Listen to me."

Zetsu punched himself in frustration but had no choice but to stand still.

"Jiraiya-sama, it's been many years. I'm sorry, but I can't see what you look like now."

"Obito, what do you want?"

"Nothing much, just wanted to see a fellow sufferer… After all, we're both people abandoned by Konoha."

"What nonsense," Jiraiya sneered, shaking his head. "Konoha never abandoned you; you're the one who abandoned your own path. We were never the same."

"You're wrong, Jiraiya-sama. We are the same." Obito's calm voice echoed in the room.

"The village rejected me, but it also abandoned you."

"You, one of the Three Legendary Sannin, who made great contributions in both the Second and Third Shinobi Wars, now reduced to sitting in a wheelchair, drunk on this chaotic night."

"Back at Kannabi Bridge, my right side was completely crushed, but by transplanting Hashirama's cells, I'm still alive and can even continue being a shinobi. Even now, with some treatment, I can still survive."

"Konoha has the cells of the First Hokage and the necessary technology, yet they didn't choose to use it on you."

"They'd rather embrace decaying morals than save a hero of the village. If that's not abandonment, then what is?"

Jiraiya's grip on the explosive tag tightened as he recalled the promise forced upon Orochimaru by his sensei just days ago in the Hokage's office.

Neither the sensei nor Orochimaru had chosen to break the rules to help him.

"What you're saying… is completely wrong," the white-haired man snapped out of his thoughts, glaring coldly at Obito.

"As a shinobi of Konoha, it is my duty to protect the remains of the fallen. I will never use Lord Hashirama's cells, and the village would never condone such an act."

Obito's face remained expressionless as his empty eye sockets seemed to lock onto Jiraiya's gaze.

"What noble shinobi principles… But tell me, Jiraiya-sama, why was Orochimaru allowed to return to Konoha?"

"Nonsense! What does Orochimaru have to do with this? That's Yuto's lab."

"Jiraiya-sama, you're actually quoting the official lie? That just shows you're wavering… We both know it was Orochimaru who stole the First Hokage's body. Yet, despite that, he was still allowed back into Konoha and is set to become the next Hokage!"

In the alcohol-heavy air, Obito's speech quickened.

"Look, Jiraiya-sama, while the village was abandoning you, it welcomed Orochimaru."

"He's committed so many human experiments, killed countless people, yet who even remembers that?"

"Back then, we joined forces to invade Amegakure and kill Nagato. No matter what plans I had, you, Jiraiya, were genuinely doing it for the future of the shinobi world. But now, who even acknowledges your efforts?"

"Today, the Amegakure delegation just left. Didn't Hiruzen Sarutobi know that the Akatsuki have a deep grudge against you? Yet he still let Konan in, without even considering your feelings."

"Why is it that in discussions about the Fifth Hokage, your name never comes up? Oh… Right, you're crippled, you can't fight anymore. For a shinobi, that's as good as being dead."

"So, Jiraiya-sama, haven't you noticed?"

"The things you cherish—the village, Hiruzen Sarutobi, and Orochimaru—have all abandoned you."

"Hahaha... At least there's still Tsunade." Jiraiya laughed heartily, shaking his wheelchair as he turned to leave, grabbing hold of the last shred of dignity. His actions were hurried, as if fleeing.

However, Obito's hollow eye sockets seemed to sense something, and he delivered a final, deadly blow:

"Jiraiya-sama, has no one mentioned this to you? The reason Tsunade was able to break my spine is that she had the Murakumo in her arm... Tsk, tsk..."

"Even when faced with Yuto, who slaughtered his clan and completely severed ties with Konoha, the village shamelessly borrowed his power, but they still wouldn't heal your legs."

"Oh? Jiraiya-sama, I suddenly remembered, the Seal requires physical contact. I wonder, could Yuto have come with Amegakure? Where is he staying? Could it be... still at the Senju Clan compound?"

The white-haired man's hand, just touching the doorknob, suddenly stopped.

(End of Chapter)