As Second Tsuchikage 42

Chapter 42: You’ve Really Screwed Me Over

After hearing what Gengetsu Hōzuki said, Mū’s brows remained tightly furrowed. Hashirama and Madara might truly be dead, but there was also the possibility that they were still alive. Right now, they were essentially in a Schrödinger’s cat state. Especially Madara.

Back then, Mū hadn’t had a chance to properly verify Madara’s condition. Hashirama had shown up not long after, and the battle had escalated so rapidly that everything became a blur. With the overwhelming scale of his Dust Release, it was impossible to tell what had actually happened.

From what he remembered, the Uchiha clan possessed two forbidden jutsu: Izanagi and Izanami. The idea that Madara might have used one of them to fake his death and survive made Mū’s frown deepen. What if that bastard decided to return for revenge?

"But... if he really used Izanagi, then he would've lost one of his Mangekyō Sharingan. That would’ve drastically weakened him. He wouldn’t be able to match me," Mū silently reminded himself.

As long as Madara hadn’t awakened the Rinnegan, Mū’s Sage Mode combined with Dust Release would still completely overpower any version of him with just a single eye. Seriously, who did he think he was? With how Dust Release worked, Mū was practically untouchable.

As long as nothing disrupted that balance, he’d remain at the top. If chakra absorption mechanics hadn’t been introduced in later Hokage-era power scaling, Dust Release could’ve easily dominated the entire shinobi world without resistance.

"Alright, alright, stop stressing about it. He’s definitely dead. I swear," Gengetsu declared as he patted his chest confidently, striking the pose of a proud war-hardened general on stage. "We beat him that badly, if he’s not dead… Hmm, I will get naked, I think!"

Hey, hey, hey! Could you not throw death flags around like that?

Mū sighed helplessly and slowly stood up. The more you spouted things like that, the more likely it was that things would go horribly wrong.

Guided by Gengetsu and the others, they made their way through the crowd toward a temporary plaza. Though crudely constructed, the plaza carried a weighty solemnity that couldn’t be ignored. The flags of the four major villages fluttered in the breeze, each one marking its presence with pride.

At the center stood a tall platform, where several tables and chairs had been arranged. The four Kage sat comfortably there, sipping tea, exchanging jokes, and even gambling with actual money, looking more like retired friends than leaders of nations.

Beneath the platform spread a sea of shinobi, an allied force gathered from all four villages. Thousands of ninja had assembled, forming a scene of sheer magnitude. The shinobi of Iwagakure, Kirigakure, Kumogakure, and Sunagakure were scattered across the field. Some sat around looking bored, others passed time chatting in small groups, and a few gathered in circles to play cards.

At this point in history, the hostility between the villages hadn’t yet festered into the deep-rooted hatred that would plague future generations. In the original timeline, it was only after three World Wars that the divisions between nations turned irreversibly bitter.

But this was still the early age of the villages. And because their leaders hadn’t yet become openly hostile, everyone was getting along better than anyone could’ve expected.

As Mū stepped into the plaza with the other Kage beside him, countless eyes instinctively turned his way. The stares were filled with deep respect and sincere gratitude. One after another, the shinobi present rose to their feet, offering heartfelt thanks and solemn nods.

And rightly so.

Had Mū not released his Dust Release at the critical moment to block Hashirama’s True Several Thousand Hands, many of them would’ve been crushed into nothing. Pulverized. It was no exaggeration to say that Mū had saved every last person in this gathering, and their appreciation was more than justified.

"Haha! Mū’s finally here!" came a booming voice.

Ishikawa, seeing his successor awake and moving again, broke into a wide grin, the burden in his heart finally lifting. "You had me scared half to death. I couldn’t eat or sleep while you were unconscious, I was genuinely worried about you!"

He leaped down from the platform with an exaggerated grin as he greeted Mū.

"Old man, by ‘worried,’ do you mean while you were gambling away and sipping tea like nothing happened?" Mū replied with a dry, unimpressed tone.

"Heh heh..." Ishikawa scratched the back of his head and let out a sheepish laugh. "Hahaha..."

"Ahem. You two, stop with the pointless chatter already!" Byakuren’s sharp voice cut through their exchange, his irritation plain as his eyes twitched. "We’ve got real business to handle. Some of us actually have things to do!"

Ishikawa led Mū up to the stone platform without further delay. Soon, Shamon, the First Raikage, and Gengetsu also ascended and took their places.

At the center of the table sat the four Kage hats, carefully arranged. Each of the four village leaders took their seats, while their respective successors stood behind them like shadows ready to take the reins. Mū glanced over the solemn arrangement, a single thought drifting through his mind: All that’s missing is Konoha.

This was supposed to be the first Five Kage Summit, but with Konoha’s absence, it had now become a Four Kage Summit.

"Alright, let’s not waste time," Ishikawa began. "The war hasn’t officially started yet, but we need to reach an agreement on how to divide the spoils ahead of time. Otherwise, we’ll end up fighting each other once the dust settles. Everyone, mark your desired territories on the map."

Two jōnin promptly stepped forward, unfurling a full-scale map of the ninja world across the table. It stretched wide, displaying borders and regions ripe for negotiation.

"Heh, then I won’t hold back!" The First Raikage immediately grabbed a brush and boldly marked out his claims.

With a confident stroke, he took the entire northern region of the Land of Fire, then added the Lands of the Moon, Rice Fields, and Hot Water, all for the Land of Lightning.

Mū arched a brow. The Land of Lightning certainly had an appetite.

Still, after a moment’s consideration, it made sense. Those three smaller nations hadn’t yet formed their own shinobi villages, making them vulnerable targets.

"Then I won’t hold back either!" Byakuren declared coldly. His eyes narrowed with determination as he swept the brush across the map.

In one motion, he claimed all surrounding islands and maritime territories, including the Land of Whirlpools, placing them firmly under his influence.

The First Kazekage, Reto, quietly marked the Land of Rivers and the southern portion of the Land of Fire as his own. His exposed, unbandaged face stayed unreadable, not giving away a single emotion.

The way these three were treating the Land of Fire was like slicing up a chunk of meat, casually claiming territories as if victory were already assured. No one even paused to consider whether they could actually win, let alone hold what they seized.

Even if they did take the land, maintaining control was another matter. Rebellions would spring up constantly, and not even someone like Mū could be everywhere at once to suppress them all.

"The Land of Earth has vast territory, so the western region of the Land of Fire should go to us!" Ishikawa declared as he drew a firm line across the map, carving out his piece.

With the four Kage dividing it among themselves, only the central region of the Land of Fire remained unclaimed.

"We’ll deal with that part after we take it," Byakuren said slowly, his tone calm but decisive.

Everyone silently agreed to this approach.

Once the matter of territory was settled, at least for the time being, the conversation shifted to forming a united shinobi army. As talks progressed and details were discussed, the question arose: who would lead this coalition?

"So then, who should lead the joint army?"

The moment those words left someone’s lips, every eye in the room turned in unison toward Mū, who stood behind the Tsuchikage.

Ishikawa, Reto, both current and future Raikage, Byakuren, Gengetsu, and Shamon all turned to look directly at him. Even the shinobi gathered below the platform slowly began shifting their attention to the same person. Their expressions were expectant, unanimous.

It was clear. Everyone had the same candidate in mind.

Mū, surrounded by hundreds of gazes, suddenly felt uncomfortable, resisting the strong urge to activate Dust Release and disintegrate himself out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.

Noticing Mū’s silence and reluctance, Gengetsu took the initiative to break the tension.

"Well, to lead the allied forces, the person should at least meet a few basic requirements," he said in a measured voice. "First, they must be the strongest among us."

"Second, they need to be respected. Ideally, someone who’s saved our lives and earned the trust of every village. Third, they should be clever, a real tactician who can handle complex battles. And fourth..."

Before Gengetsu could continue, Shamon interrupted with a smirk.

"Let me guess, they should also be wrapped from head to toe in bandages and use Dust Release?"

"And their name must be a single, powerful character, right?" added the Second Raikage with a grin.

"Maybe they should also be tall and handsome, with a destined disciple named Onoki who ends up being the greatest shinobi in history?" someone else chimed in.

"Wow, who could that be? This mystery’s killing me!"

Even the young Onoki down below started playing along, scratching his head and joining the chorus of voices shouting, "Who could it be? What a tough riddle!"

"Come on! Just tell us the answer already!"

All eyes remained fixed on Mū, who was still trying to hold his composure. The teasing had reached its peak, and even the four Kage were now covering their faces in exasperation, half-laughing, half-sighing at the absurdity.

Mū himself was having trouble keeping a straight face, especially after hearing the bit about the bandages and the single-character name.

Why not just read out his ID number while they were at it...

Seeing that Mū was still pretending not to get the hint, Ishikawa grew increasingly anxious. This was Iwagakure’s best chance to shine, to take center stage on the world’s battlefield. Even if it was just symbolic, Mū had to be pushed forward.

"Mū! You should lead. What does everyone else think?" Ishikawa said loudly, turning to the other three Kage for support.

Without hesitation, they all nodded in agreement.

"Ahem, well... maybe we don’t really need a supreme commander," Mū said, clearing his throat as a faint flush crept up his face. "We could just discuss things and coordinate as equals..."

Before he could finish, Gengetsu walked up and smacked him hard across the backside. "Oh, cut the crap! Stop pretending. You're the only one we all trust to take that spot. You won’t even be a real commander, just a figurehead! Now get up there already!"

Ever since that legendary battle, no one had dared question Mū’s strength. Everyone had silently acknowledged him as the strongest among them.

"Someone bring the commander’s chair!"

Immediately, a chair was brought up and placed squarely between the four Kage, symbolizing Mū’s new role.

"Ugh... but I really don’t care about being some figurehead," Mū muttered with a defeated expression. Then, in a falsely righteous voice, he added, "How could someone like me possibly deserve such a lofty position? Leading the entire shinobi alliance? Absolutely not. That’s too much responsibility!"

Down below, the impatient Second Raikage had had enough. He cupped his hands and shouted toward the mass of shinobi, "Where are Iwagakure’s Anbu? Come get your leader and sit him down already!"

Almost instantly, several Anbu from Iwagakure appeared in a flicker of movement. Mū recognized every one of them; they were the same warriors who had stood up to Madara Uchiha to shield him during that brutal confrontation.

"Hehe, Mū-sama, please stop resisting!"

"You’re the one we all believe in!"

"Forgive us, Mū-sama!"

Before he could react, they swarmed him, lifted him off the ground, and forced him into the chair with coordinated precision.

It was an odd sight. This was the man who had slain Madara Uchiha, who had blocked Hashirama Senju, and yet he was now helplessly manhandled by a handful of Anbu like some unruly student being dragged into a classroom.

Mū sat stiffly in the seat, looking completely defeated, now occupying a position equal to that of the four Kage.

"Ahh... you’re all the worst. Truly the worst," he muttered, shoulders slumping.

"Pfft!"

That did it. The moment broke what little tension remained. The four Kage, the shinobi below the stage, everyone burst out laughing.

Even Mū couldn’t hold it anymore. A small grin slipped through his carefully maintained frown.