Pain, death, wails…
This short distance had already filled Osamu with far too many negative emotions.
Disgusted to his core, he wanted nothing more than to quickly bring this sin-drenched body before Pain and exchange the death of “Danzo Shimura” for the enemy’s withdrawal.
War.
Foolish powerhouses uttered those two simple characters with lighthearted ease, conjuring an imagined utopia out of thin air, only to crush living, breathing human beings beneath blood, tears, and agony.
Pain stared at the man who had suddenly appeared before him.
When his eyes met that calm, cold eye, he subconsciously looked away.
“Danzo…?” He chewed on the name.
“So it was you…
who joined forces with Hanzo back then to ambush us.” “That’s right.” Osamu looked completely unbothered.
Ignoring the Anbu members trying to shield him from behind, he walked straight toward the guy who had somehow managed to push Danzo Shimura to the back of his mind.
“So, I have come to accept my death.” Having said this, Osamu’s voice suddenly turned icy cold.
“You didn’t get so caught up in tormenting civilians that you forgot to seek revenge against me, a member of Konoha’s high council, did you?” These words showed no mercy whatsoever, causing Pain to inexplicably feel a twinge of guilt.
Both he and Osamu knew that in this attack on Konoha, Pain—or rather Nagato operating behind the scenes—had never planned to conveniently settle the score with Danzo.
After staring blankly for a few seconds, Pain offered a stiff response: “This is granting necessary pain…
They will understand the fear brought by war.
This is a necessary step toward achieving peace.” Rather than an answer, it sounded more like a defensive excuse born of embarrassment and anger.
At least Tsunade and the surrounding Anbu didn’t buy it.
Yet Osamu believed him, because he understood that anyone in this world harboring a “peaceful ideal” suffered from this disease to some degree or another.
He simply stepped forward, walking slowly toward the edge of the Hokage Residence’s roof.
Detecting no Chakra fluctuation whatsoever, Pain allowed him to pass by.
Pain turned to look at his back and, following an inner impulse, fell into step behind him.
Standing at the roof’s edge, all the wreckage below came into clear view.
“Do you see it?” Osamu asked Pain, who stood behind him.
“Nothing more than dead shinobi.” Pain settled his mind, gazing coldly at the scene crushed by the summoned beasts.
“This is the current state of the world—a sight the small nations must face every single moment.” Osamu closed his eyes, exasperated by this head-in-the-clouds chuunibyou.
“That is because shinobi possess the basic combat capability to escape buildings and fight you on the open ground.” “Can’t you see?” “Beneath the crushed buildings, there are people who couldn’t escape.” They were ordinary civilians without the strength to truss a chicken, working diligently every day just for a peaceful life.
They were the bedrock of a nation’s operation, the blood flowing through its veins.
All they asked for was a quiet corner to eat and live in peace, yet they were also the most fragile, vulnerable group.
Pain did not answer, but Osamu could feel his body stiffen.
Osamu had no intention of letting him off the hook.
“They are the ones bearing the most pain,” Osamu said bluntly.
“And now, they are dead.” The people who feared war the most, lusted for peace the most, were the gentlest and most peaceful, posing zero threat.
Now, they were dead.
Just like Nagato’s parents who perished in the war, just like the Akatsuki who sought peace only to be crushed by Hanzo.
Yet the person who created this scene was an idealist pursuing peace.
Arrogance.
Osamu turned around, leaning his frail, exhausted body against the railing at the roof’s edge.
Having gouged out his eye, he had already lost a massive amount of blood.
Eager to come here and die, he saw no need to receive medical treatment.
He merely stared calmly at the silent young man, then lowered his gaze to look at the empty ground below.
“Still, death might be a release for them,” Osamu said in a flat tone, just as Pain had casually spoken of necessary pain moments ago.
Pain was baffled.
“Why?” “Because everything they relied on to survive has been destroyed.” Osamu remained patient, offering a thoroughly realistic explanation to this foolishly arrogant yet remarkably capable guy.
“Civilians aren’t like ordinary shinobi, and even less like you, who possess world-class combat and survival capabilities.
If they want to survive, they must have warm clothes, food to fill their bellies, safe and comfortable shelter, and a means to secure survival resources.” Clothing, food, shelter, transportation.
Now, all of it was buried deep within the ruins.
“Konoha’s funds might be reallocated to provide them with necessary subsidies,” Osamu mused for a few seconds, making a rough estimate of the affected population.
“However, the numbers are too vast.
Most people will be crammed into tiny shelters or orphanages, struggling to survive in filthy, noisy, ungovernable environments beyond the reach of the law.” “Those who can’t be accommodated will be displaced.
A lucky few might last until a spot opens up in a shelter, though most will likely die of hunger and illness before then.” Osamu paused for a few seconds after saying this before continuing.
“Furthermore, most of Konoha’s operating funds are provided by the Daimyo of the Land of Fire.
Following this invasion of Konoha, an aggrieved Daimyo will likely cut off the supply of funds.” “Chaos and war-torn areas are unfit for trade and living.
Surviving merchants and civilians will also find ways to leave Konoha, seeking safer regions to survive.” Tsunade, listening from a distance, had turned deathly pale.
Funds.
That was an unavoidable, harsh reality.
“Moving forward, search and rescue require funds, medical care requires funds, providing everyone with food, water, sanitation, establishing relocation points, staffing operations, and communication all require funds.
On top of that, troops must be deployed to the borders to prevent other major nations from taking advantage of the crisis.” Osamu raised his remaining left hand, ticking off points one by one.
“Moreover, the dead must be handled and buried as quickly as possible.
Those who can’t be buried in time must be cremated on the spot.” Pain’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at Danzo in disbelief.
Tsunade, however, knew best why this had to be done.
Her lips trembled stiffly as she spat out a terrifying word: “Plague.” Corpses would decay, bringing even more death.
Pain stood there in silence for a long time before turning his head to look at Danzo.
“Hand over the Nine-Tails to me.” “As long as we can…
we can guarantee no other nation dares to wage war.
As long as peace is maintained, the worst outcome you envisioned will not happen.” So after thinking for so long, all he came up with was a “Do you dare defy me, who possesses Bael?” level of logic?
Osamu closed his eyes and sighed softly.
“What a foolish child.” Being addressed like that out of nowhere, Pain froze for a few seconds before asking back in annoyance, “Do you have a better way?” “I do.” Osamu felt completely helpless toward this fellow who couldn’t drop his arrogance yet had severely limited methods.
“Directly control the Daimyo of the Land of Fire.” If you can’t cut expenses, then aggressively expand revenue.
Cast one Genjutsu, and the Daimyo of the Land of Fire becomes nothing more than a heartless money-printing machine.
“Besides, the Land of Fire’s Daimyo has closely intertwined financial interests with the Daimyo of other nations.
You can directly control him to write to the other Daimyo, demanding they stop funding the war efforts of other ninja villages.
Without money, war cannot be waged.” When the cannons roar, gold flows like water.
War is a money-burning machine; cut off its funds, and the machine will have no choice but to grind to a halt.
Pain was stunned for a long moment by this unadorned, highly efficient, and bloodless proposal.
Finally, he gritted his teeth.
“Hand over the Nine-Tails to me, and I will set off to control the Daimyo of the Land of Fire.” He had caused the deaths of civilians—he admitted it and would take responsibility.
This damn kid still hasn’t given up.
Osamu rubbed his brow with a headache.
“It’s not as simple as you think…
Sigh, why can’t you get it through your head, child…” Why was his mind so stubborn?
Pain had grown accustomed to this enemy’s gently scolding tone and simply waited in confusion for Danzo to elaborate.
Tsunade and the Anbu were somewhat speechless watching this scene, but it was a good thing Pain was willing to listen quietly.
At least those raging summoned beasts had halted their attacks; only the other Paths of Pain were holding off the Konoha shinobi from coming over to reinforce them.
Osamu finally organized his thoughts and explained to Pain, who was waiting in front of him.
“I know your plan: gather all the Tailed Beasts, summon the Ten-Tails, and use it to suppress any possibility of war, achieving the peace you desire.” Pain was not surprised that Danzo knew their plan.
In that brief verbal clash—or rather, Danzo’s one-sided lecture—he could feel that this man was far more profound than they had imagined, possessing far greater wisdom and foresight.
Knowing that they were gathering the Tailed Beasts made inferring the Ten-Tails, or even the entire plan, a trivial matter for someone like Danzo.
“War brings death and hatred, but some things are far more terrifying than death and hatred.
Even if you summon the Ten-Tails, even if you possess absolute strength, people driven by fear will find other ways to make war re-emerge.” “War will merely change its name and break out anew in every corner of the world.” “There are countless ways to force others to die without using brute force.
I’m sure you know plenty of them.” Pain listened in bewilderment.
As soon as Osamu finished speaking, he blurted out impatiently, “What could be more terrifying than death and hatred?” In his view, death was the most fearful thing in the world, hatred was the blade that caused more death, and war was the cradle that nurtured them both.
As long as war ceased and the chain of hatred was severed, the world would reach the peace Yahiko had dreamed of.
Osamu looked at this child, who could no longer hide his childish naivety, with a helpless gaze.
“You grew up in the Land of Rain—didn’t you experience it yourself?” “It is ‘survival.'”