Naruto: Hatake's No Misfortune

Chapter 117: The Great Project



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As the hardest part of Hiruko's body, the tail failed to withstand Muzan's devastating fist. Sasori didn't dare risk blocking it with his own body.

Hiruko's construction was intricate and time-consuming, requiring specialized materials. Since joining the Akatsuki, every mission had been fraught with danger, and now Sasori found himself face-to-face with Muzan in a critical moment.

The Third Kazekage puppet, controlled by Sasori, extended five sharp claws, blocking the space between them and halting the momentum of Muzan's monstrous punch.

"Boom!"

Sasori underestimated Muzan's strength. Even with the Third Kazekage puppet, the force of the punch sent the puppet crashing into the ground, raising a cloud of dust. Sasori quickly reattached his chakra threads.

"What terrifying power… Who is he?" Sasori muttered, glancing at the Third Kazekage puppet as it stood back up. He was relieved it hadn't been severely damaged—repairing it would have been a nightmare.

Over the years, Sasori had faced countless powerful foes, but only one matched this level of raw strength—Konoha's Tsunade. Yet, her technique was different. Sasori had never truly understood her method of enhancing strength, making it even harder to counter.

"Whew…"

With Hiruko's strongest tail destroyed, relying on hidden weapons alone wouldn't be enough to defeat Muzan. Furthermore, the Third Kazekage's Magnet Release was at a disadvantage here. Sasori weighed his options. Could he afford to continue this battle?

After deliberating, it became clear he didn't have a way to defeat Muzan outright.

"I need to find a way to retreat for now," Sasori decided.

Abandoning Hiruko, he focused entirely on the Third Kazekage puppet. From beneath its black cloak, countless puppet arms appeared, each brandishing a sharp weapon. The puppet's claws were sharp enough to cut through nearly anything.

Even so, Muzan's apparent lack of weaknesses posed a significant challenge.

"This one is truly troublesome," Muzan murmured. He prepared for a drawn-out fight, stealing a glance at the setting sun. Nightfall was still hours away—until then, this was the most dangerous period for him.

As they fought, Muzan subtly absorbed natural energy from the air, preparing for the worst-case scenario.

The puppet's countless hidden weapons launched simultaneously, targeting Muzan.

"Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique!"

The clash of projectiles and flames lit up the battlefield like fireworks. As the chaos unfolded, a hole in the puppet's arms released a cloud of purple smoke.

The poisonous gas slowed Muzan's movements and obscured his vision. However, outside the battlefield, Yamanosatsu's Blood Demon Art activated, allowing him to distinguish Sasori'smovements within the purple mist.

Muzan's kunai struck a pile of sand as he tried to pursue. Sasori had used a substitution technique to escape.

Muzan waited as the poisonous mist cleared, his face cold and composed. The weapons had little effect on him, but he couldn't help but regret not having the Byakugan. With it, Sasori might not have escaped so easily.

The remains of Hiruko lay shattered, with a third of it obliterated by Muzan's strike. Sasori had sustained heavy losses, and even if he returned to the Akatsuki, repairing Hiruko would take a significant amount of time and resources.

As for Orochimaru, Muzan suspected he had already joined the Akatsuki.

"Konoha couldn't control Orochimaru, and neither can the Akatsuki," Muzan mused.

Sasori's retreat would undoubtedly stir unrest within the organization, but that wasn't Muzan's concern.

"It's a pity. Next time, you won't escape," Muzan muttered, his voice filled with murderous intent.

From a distance, Yamanosatsu observed the scene, feeling a chill run down his spine. Terrified, he knelt on one knee. "Lord Muzan, I couldn't locate his whereabouts."

"He's already gone," Muzan replied coldly. "Your Blood Demon Art is still too weak!"

As punishment, one of Yamanosatsu's eyes burst under Muzan's cold gaze.

Suppressing the searing pain, Yamanosatsu dared not speak. Humiliated, he resolved to strengthen his Blood Demon Art and evolve his bloodline. He vowed to become a true Upper Rank demon as soon as possible.

The battle's aftermath left the area in ruins. Deep cracks in the ground, caused by Muzan's fist, exposed a river of lava beneath the surface.

Leaping away, Muzan left the scene. At the base of the mountain, the village chief and his men had heard the commotion and rushed up to investigate. When they saw the battlefield, they were shocked.

"If you're injured, you can rest here for a while," the chief offered, hoping to establish goodwill.

"No need," Muzan replied curtly. "I've given you the design plans. The parts aren't difficult to make, but they must be precise."

Meanwhile, Sasori had fled the Land of Craftsmen without delay. Without materials to repair Hiruko, the puppet resembled a tattered relic.

Upon returning to the Akatsuki base, Konan was startled by Sasori's disheveled appearance.

"Someone managed to damage your puppet?" she asked, a mix of surprise and concern in her voice.

Sasori nodded grimly. "Yes. Something unexpected happened in the Land of Craftsmen. I encountered a formidable opponent."

As he recalled Muzan's overwhelming power, Sasori clenched his fists.

"Once I've repaired my puppet, I'll return to investigate further," he vowed.

---

The Akatsuki organization does not concern itself with the affairs of the Land of Craftsmen. After all, no organization, no matter how powerful, can rival the might of the Rinnegan.

At present, the Akatsuki is a terrorist group composed of S-rank rogue ninjas. Their strength and confidence in invading any village are a testament to their power.

Sasori had been assigned to investigate the Land of Craftsmen. The region appeared to be quietly amassing power, preparing for a moment to reveal itself to the ninja world. Konan, ever cautious, had also instructed others to monitor this mysterious development. A group capable of challenging someone of Sasori caliber was not to be underestimated. Should they interfere with the Akatsuki's plans, Konan was prepared to eliminate them without hesitation to achieve her vision of peace.

Meanwhile, Muzan, unaware of the Akatsuki's interest, traveled openly to the Land of Waves.

The alliance between the Land of Waves and the Land of Craftsmen barely registered in the greater ninja world. After all, they were considered minor nations. However, the partnership's subtle influence was gradually growing.

Muzan returned to the mist-covered Land of Waves, where he expanded his laboratory after completing essential repairs.

"The key issues hindering progress are population and land," he muttered, frowning as he reviewed a map of the region.

The decision to make the Land of Waves his base dated back to the Third Shinobi War. As a small, isolated nation, it served as a safe haven during the conflict. This strategic decision had also been a factor in Pakura's swift rise to prominence after arriving in the Land of Waves.

However, the nation's small size and fragmented geography posed significant challenges to large-scale development. The islands and surrounding seas divided the land like a patchwork, hindering industrialization.

Now that the first stages of industrialization had begun, more factories were needed. Building offshore facilities would be prohibitively expensive and require constant maintenance due to seawater corrosion.

After much consideration, Muzan made a bold decision: land reclamation. Expanding the Land of Waves' territory would create more space for infrastructure and population growth.

Muzan's long-term vision and meticulous planning placed him ahead of his time.

"This project will be massive," Kakuzu, the Twelve Kizuki's financial overseer, remarked, his tone laced with skepticism. "We might have to halt our current work, and all the money we've earned could go down the drain!"

The proposed project went far beyond typical ninja endeavors, requiring years or even decades to complete, along with astronomical resources. To Kakuzu, the idea of spending money on something as intangible as soil was absurd.

"Money is no object," Muzan replied calmly, tapping his fingers on the table. "The basic factories in the Land of Craftsmen are up and running, which will generate substantial revenue. Don't underestimate their craftsmen; their accumulated wealth may surpass that of some daimyo."

Muzan had deliberately avoided making the Land of Craftsmen his primary base due to trust issues. Factories established outside the Land of Waves handled only basic processing. Final assembly and critical work occurred in the Land of Waves, where Muzan retained complete control. This ensured his dominance over the entire operation.

Muzan's priority was clear: scientific advancement to meet his research needs. It was a hard-earned lesson from observing Orochimaru, whose research stagnated without consistent funding and support.

"The real challenge isn't the money but acquiring the land," Kakuzu said, leaning back. "Negotiations with the daimyo will be unavoidable."

Muzan nodded, acknowledging the complexities. Fire Country, the continent's most fertile region, was primarily controlled by nobles and feudal lords.

"The daimyo aren't fools," Kakuzu warned. "They see ninjas as tools. Be ready to face their arrogance—and avoid direct conflict with them."

"I understand," Muzan replied, his tone cold. "But sooner or later, these relics of the old era will fall. Their outdated systems hinder true progress."

Despite his disdain, Muzan knew better than to provoke the Fire Country daimyo or risk open conflict during these early stages.

"We don't need the daimyo's approval," he said, holding up a detailed map of the Fire Country. "Most of the fertile land is controlled by the nobility. Many of them are shortsighted and greedy. If we offer enough immediate profit, they'll gladly trade their unused land for cash."

Muzan's gaze lingered on one particular region near the Land of Waves. It was controlled by the Muchuan family, a noble house known for its lavish lifestyle.

"They'll be my next target," he said, a sly smile creeping across his face.

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