NOVEL WEB A chat in the cafeteria and placing a bet he will lose
(Akio POV)
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whoooosh
After finishing up with the second prisoner of the day, who required a quick healing session to prevent him from losing one or four his limbs, I headed to the tucked-away Anbu cafeteria behind HQ for lunch.
Buzzz
It’s always the same bland, nutrient-packed food I reluctantly swallow—perhaps a poetic form of justice for my role as the Anbu torturer.
Whiiiii
Honestly, I don’t even need food to survive, but skipping meals would raise suspicions, especially with my plan yet to commence.
Ssssss
After loading up my plate, I settled at an empty table in the center of the cafeteria, eager to get through the meal as quickly as possible to minimize the suffering its taste inflicted.
"So, how was work?" my white-haired colleague/friend, Sakumo, asked as he joined me, his own plate of culinary misery in hand.
Riiiing
Buzzz
Zzzz
Ssssss
Tick-tick
Whiiiii
Whoooosh
"It’s fine, Sakumo," I replied between mouthfuls, shoveling in the tasteless nutrients and trying to ignore the constant buzzing in my head.
When I went to grab a cup of water and returned while sipping on the way, I almost spat it out when I heard his next question.
“Is Danzo-sama alright?”
Memories from the transmigrator’s were bubbling in, and I nearly choked on my water, suppressing laughter at the inside joke I was hearing.
"He’s still recovering, but his arm is permanently crippled, so he's no longer in active duty," I said, masking my amusement with a feigned indifference.
Looking at him for a moment, I briefly considered Sakumo's potential promotion, expecting changes in the Anbu leadership after the death of the previous Anbu Captain, who had been part of the Blamekage squad. The squad had been ambushed, and while Blamekage survived thanks to Izanagi, he just initiated it too late to save his arm.
Back to my thoughts in mind—Sakumo, having risen to the rank of Deputy Anbu Captain, seemed next in line for the position, assuming Sandaime-sama was comfortable with him.
Zzzz
I did my best to keep Sakumo’s reputation confined to Anbu, advising the higher-ups to forbid any public discussion by making missions illegal to be disclosed(except for one's permitted by them) and anyone caught gossiping about it would be expelled in disgrace under the guise of maintaining confidentiality. Hopefully, this kept Sakumo off Sandaime-sama's radar... at least I hope.
Our conversation then shifted to the latest updates from the battlefield, where Sakumo shared insights into ongoing conflicts with other villages.
Click-click
Despite the rumors swirling in the subdivision, I always knew it was better to hear directly from someone on the battlefield to separate fact from fiction.
"With Lady Tsunade swiftly developing an antidote for Lady Chiyo's poison, the casualties have dwindled, allowing progress to be made without hindrance."
"So, Tsunade cracked her code?" I remarked, impressed by her speed. Despite the expectations from my transmigrator's memories, I couldn’t help but be impressed by her achievement.
However, the situation in Iwagakure presented a different challenge. The formidable Explosion Corps continued to thwart Konoha’s advances, while unable to make advancement as well, creating a stubborn stalemate with no clear solution in sight.
As for Amegakure, their resilience remained impressively stubborn. Using a combination of poison and explosive tags, they successfully defended against attacks from all three sides. Yet, their defense is unsustainable against the combined forces of three major villages if war drags on.
Of course, I knew the eventual outcome of the war from the transmigrator's memories. Amegakure would be defeated, regressing before making progress due to the presence of a deluded man, only to descend into lawlessness where the savior of the world forgot about them, remembering only when a new threat emerged there.
"Victory seems likely for Konoha as long as the other villages don’t interfere," I observed, noting the favorable odds, to which Sakumo nodded approvingly.
‘Though there’s a chance we’ll lose an ally if my assumptions are correct, unless I prove them in time.’
Regardless of that, it feels like this war will drag on endlessly before I can claim the spoils
Ssssss
I suppose this is what happens when you want something so badly but can’t yet have it.
zzzz
whiiiii
riiiing
buzzz
ssssss
tick-tick
whoooosh
"So you're free, right?" I casually prodded, eager for him to test a hypothesis of mine.
"Actually, no. I promised Aki a date, so I can't hang out with you," he admitted awkwardly.
‘Oh well, I can wait for the jutsu to be completed.’
Our conversation soon shifted to the academy, where we exchanged observations about the current youth enrolled by accessing the student list—one I secured without much hassle. (Gotta love nepotism.)
Obviously, I crossed out students from the Hyūga clan on the list, as the main family typically avoided missions without their branch members spoon-feeding them and then claiming all the merit. Meanwhile, the branch family served as invaluable sensors within both regular forces and the ANBU Black Ops division—a strategic asset for Konoha's interests.
Their physical prowess paled compared to the value of their Byakugan—a sentiment we both understood for the greater good, of course. (Not that they were physically weaker than most shinobi, just that their worth lay more in support.)
wwwwwwhhhhhjjjjjoooooooooossssshhhh
After reviewing the list, we began to bet on who would emerge as the next academy genius.
(Unfortunately, Tsunade isn’t around, or we could have gotten free money.)
Currently, we’re tied, having each won and lost 15 times since we started betting back in our Genin days.
‘Hmm... so he’s here...’
Looking at the list, I wagered 150,000 Ryo on Namikaze Minato, a five-year-old first-year student, while my companion staked 175,000 Ryo on Uchiha Akane, a year older but equally promising. (If only she wasn’t from a clan of red-eye freaks.)
The terms were straightforward: if the one we wagered on graduated before the other, he would win the bet. In the event of a tie, popularity would act as the deciding factor.
Of course, the outcome was an obvious conclusion. With the Golden Boy’s exceptional talent, I knew I had this in the bag—easy pocket money from Sakumo, who remained blissfully unaware of our little game’s inevitable result.
Speaking of which, I should start making some arrangements for him. I can’t let his talent be wasted in the hands of that peace-loving hypocrite and the ever-preaching pacifist, he is the strongest of the next generation after all.
After lunch, we parted ways and left the cafeteria.
Returning to ANBU HQ, I headed straight to the desk, preparing to repeat the tedious process of getting the keys to my designated torture room once again.
Even though Yome is my friend and should recognize me by now—just from my voice and the sight of my shadow manipulation (which no other Nara can do without hand signs)—the hypocrite insists on sticking to protocol, as if anyone else could replicate the feat.
Still, protocol is protocol that I have to respect even if I don't want to, and I don’t want to waste time on minor inconveniences.
"Your identity has been confirmed. Here’s the key to your workplace," she said, handing it over before I departed upstairs.
eeeeee
zzzz
ssssss
click-click
wheeee
whoooosh
‘.....Definitely should change my body tomorrow to stop hearing this annoyance.....’