Naruto: The Chosen Undead

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Chapter no.10 Dark Wings Over Konoha

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Naruto made it to Shinobi's Edge in no time. It was the only shop still open this late, and the dim light spilling from the windows told him they were about to close. The place was old, with wooden beams that creaked whenever someone moved. The walls were lined with all kinds of ninja tools—everything from kunai to specialized gear only jounin typically used. It smelled like metal and oil, mixed with the scent of old paper from the scrolls tucked behind the counter.

The shop was mostly empty at this hour. Perfect.

"Welc—" the store clerk started to say, but the second Naruto walked in, he stopped mid-sentence. Naruto didn't care. He didn't have time for the clerk's fake smile or whatever he had planned to say next. He went straight for the back, grabbing everything he needed.

He picked up some fuma shurikens.

Yeah, this is going right into the demon's butt, Naruto thought with a smirk.

Naruto grabbed two stacks of ninja wire, a box of flash bombs, and some high-grade explosive tags.

All of this is going to cost a fortune, he thought, his heart sinking for a second. But he had three years' worth of savings. He threw the stacks of ryo onto the counter, not even bothering to count it.

"Here," Naruto said, placing everything on top of the counter.

The store clerk eyed him, his face tight.

"I'm sorry, but you can't buy this."

Naruto didn't have time for this crap. He grabbed all the gear, stuffing it into a storage scroll before the clerk could say anything else.

"Hey! You can't just take that!" the clerk shouted, his voice cracking.

Naruto kept moving, ignoring him. I paid for everything. I'm not going to stand here and argue.

"Stop! That's stealing!" the clerk yelled after him.

Naruto turned and glared, his eyes narrowing. "Shut up, I paid for it! Go count the money!" His voice came out harsher than he intended, and the guy flinched, taking a step back.

Naruto was about to leave, his chakra pooling in his legs, ready to leap out of there and get back to Oscar, when he heard the guy mutter under his breath.

"Of course, the demon brat wants that stuff for nothing," the clerk whispered, thinking Naruto wouldn't hear. "Can't believe the Hokage let a monster like that be a ninja. I'm gonna lose my job 'cause of this asshole who couldn't just die."

Naruto froze, the words hitting him harder than he expected. His hand clenched into a fist, and before he knew it, a fireball began forming in his palm.

One swing, and I could burn this whole place to the ground.

He could make the clerk regret every word, make him fear Naruto the way he always had. The heat in Naruto's hand built up, ready to be unleashed.

But then, Naruto saw the clerk's face—the fear in his eyes. Not just fear, though. That underlying smugness. Like he was right all along. Like this was proof that Naruto was the monster the villagers always thought he was.

He wants this, Naruto realized, his chest tightening. The guy wanted him to lash out, to prove him right. To give him an excuse to say, See? I told you so.

Naruto took a breath, forcing the fireball to fizzle out in his hand.

Ignore him. We have to save Oscar. That's what matters, he told himself over and over, trying to drown out the anger bubbling inside him.

But Naruto wasn't just going to walk away and let the clerk think he'd won.

"Hey, guys," Naruto said, summoning a dozen clones. "Gather all the garbage around here and fill this bastard's store with it."

"Dattebayo!" they all shouted in unison.

The look of horror on the store clerk's face as Naruto's clones tore through the trash bins, piling garbage onto every available surface, was priceless. Naruto smirked, feeling a small, petty sense of satisfaction as he ran out of the store. He etched that expression into his memory—a last laugh before heading back to the other world.

If I have to deal with demons, I'm sure as hell not letting jerks like him get off easy.

Naruto checked everything again, making sure it was all set. His clones had already brought the pills from another store—thankfully, a place that didn't treat him like garbage. He felt a small relief in that, but his mind was racing.

He double-checked the storage seal scroll. The Fuma Shuriken, ninja wire, flash bombs, and pills were all in place. Everything he needed was packed and ready in his inventory.

[ Do you want to use item "Darksign"? ]

[ Yes or No ]

As soon as he thought yes, Naruto's knees buckled. One knee hit the floor as his body surged with a strange energy. Naruto raised his hands in front of him, and there it was—the ring of fire, the Darksign. It glowed bright, the light piercing through his eyes, filling his vision with nothing but a blinding white.

He gritted his teeth. The heat from the Darksign seared into him, but Naruto welcomed it.

"Just wait, sensei," Naruto whispered, barely able to hear his own voice over the rushing sound of power coursing through him. "I'm coming to save you, dattebayo."

Suddenly, the boy's body vanished, swallowed by the blinding magic light, leaving nothing but an empty apartment in his wake.

But not entirely unobserved.

High above, hidden in the shadows outside, a dragonfly watched. Its keen eyes followed the events from afar. But this wasn't just any ordinary insect—it was a creation. The dragonfly's body gleamed unnaturally as it flapped its wings, its body made entirely of ink. As it moved through the sky, it left no sound, no trace, only a dark blur against the moonlit night.

Its destination was a shadowy apartment a few blocks away. The room it flew into was sparse, completely devoid of any furniture or decoration. The only thing that filled the empty space was a giant scroll, unrolled and spread across the entire floor. The ink insect splashed into the scroll upon contact, its form dissolving into the paper.

Overseeing the process was a small, cloaked figure—an ANBU agent dressed in a black cloak with a blank, featureless mask. But this was no ordinary ANBU. This was a Root ANBU Black Ops agent, trained in the shadows, an extension of Danzo's will for Konoha's "betterment."

The ANBU finished a series of hand signs, his fingers weaving through the air with practiced ease.

"Ninja Art—Ink Imagery Transfer," he muttered under his breath, his tone cold and mechanical. The ink from the dragonfly began to shift, swirling into specific shapes and patterns. Everything the ink creature had seen—the entire surveillance—was being transferred into a coded message on the scroll, written in a language only those within Root could decipher. Ever since Naruto's confrontation with the Third Hokage, Root had been keeping a close watch on him. This particular Root agent had been tasked with long-range surveillance, using the ink insect as his eyes. And now, with Naruto disappearing into that strange light, the ANBU knew something was off. Something significant.

The Hokage had opted not to send his own ANBU to follow Naruto—perhaps out of fear of pushing the boy further into distrust. It was a calculated move, but one that played into Root's hands. Root's surveillance had gone unnoticed, and the Hokage's restraint allowed them to observe Naruto undisturbed.

As the Root ANBU finished reading the coded message, his eyes, hidden behind the mask, narrowed. The implications of what the insect had just witnessed were clear.

I must inform Danzo-sama.

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Far away from Konoha, hidden deep within a rugged mountain range, lay a small, secluded temple. From the outside, it looked like any ordinary temple, ancient stone pillars standing stoic against the weathered landscape. But this place had a dark secret—it was no temple of worship. It was a glorified prison known as Fire Zen Temple, a remote location where banished shinobi who were too dangerous to be left free, yet too valuable to be discarded, were sent to live out their days in isolation.

The air around the temple was still, as if even the wind feared to intrude upon the grounds. In the midst of this eerie calm, a small pumpkin garden grew, its vines crawling across the soil. The man tending to the garden seemed out of place, his frail, aging body moving slowly as he dug into the earth with his bare hands. His shaggy black hair hung limply, and his right eye was covered by a bandage. An X-shaped scar marred his chin, a reminder of his youth. He wore a simple white shirt, a black or dark grey robe draped over it, covering him from his feet to just over his right shoulder.

This man was Shimura Danzo—the War Hawk of Konoha, the boogeyman of the shinobi world. And he was calmly planting pumpkin seeds, as if he were just another old man living out his final days in peace.

But behind Danzo stood two silent ANBU guards, their presence a reminder of the reality of his captivity. Or at least, that was the illusion. To the outside world—especially to Hiruzen Sarutobi—Danzo had been stripped of his power and locked away in this temple, guarded around the clock. But the truth was far more dangerous. Danzo had long since taken control of the Fire Zen Temple, turning it into his hidden base of operations, without anyone outside its walls being the wiser.

As Danzo pressed the seeds into the earth, another ANBU appeared. Unlike the others, this one wore a black cloak and bowed respectfully before him. Danzo didn't look up, his single visible eye focused on the garden before him.

"Speak," he commanded, his voice cold, devoid of any emotion. He buried the last seed with a deliberate motion, his fingers pressing the soil over it gently, as if the task itself held some deep significance.

It didn't.

"Danzo-sama, we have received an important report from operatives in Konoha."

Danzo's single eye flickered with the faintest glimmer of interest, an emotion so subtle that it was barely detectable. Slowly, he straightened, rising from his crouch, his gaze shifting from the garden to the Root agent standing before him.

Without a word, Danzo extended his hand, and the report was placed into his grasp. The parchment felt thin, ordinary—but the contents were anything but. His eye scanned the report, moving swiftly over the details: Mizuki's betrayal of Konoha, and more importantly, the report of the Jinchuriki, Naruto Uzumaki, using previously unknown ninjutsu.

The war hawk's brow furrowed ever so slightly as he reached a specific section. Confirmed space-time ninjutsu.

His eye lingered on the words, absorbing their significance. He continued reading, taking in the description of the verbal altercation between Hiruzen and Naruto, the tension that had built between the boy and the Third Hokage.

Danzo remained silent, his expression unreadable. None of the Root ANBU could ever guess what was going on behind that cold, calculating eye.

"Your command, Danzo-sama?"

"Continue your observations of the weapon," Danzo said, his voice like ice, betraying nothing of the plans forming in his mind. "And destroy any evidence of Mizuki's connection to outside forces."

The ANBU operative bowed and swiftly vanished into the shadows, leaving Danzo alone once more.

The original mission had been simple enough in its design: Root operatives would supply Mizuki with the necessary information to obtain the Forbidden Scroll of Seals. In exchange, Mizuki would involve Naruto Uzumaki, faking the boy's death and leaving his body to be retrieved by Root. Naruto, brainwashed and reshaped, would become the perfect weapon for Konoha—an asset Danzo could wield in secret.

But the plan had failed. Mizuki was killed, and Naruto had not been drawn into Root's grasp. Instead, something far more interesting had occurred.

Danzo's gaze flicked back to the report, his mind racing.

Unknown ninjutsus?

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. Danzo's lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

"Your new abilities will greatly serve Konoha, Jinchuriki."

The world was shifting, and with it, the fate of Konoha. But one thing remained clear to Danzo—Naruto Uzumaki was now more valuable than ever, and he would not rest until the boy was under his control.