After handing the Uchiha problem off to Kakashi, Tsunade angled her body slightly and looked toward Cocolia, who was still wearing an ordinary ANBU cloak.
"So what's the situation with Serval right now?"
The sound of pages flipping stopped.
Cocolia turned around and, with a crisp motion, removed the animal mask from her face. A few strands of blonde hair slid down from her forehead, revealing a striking face that blended sharpness with radiant beauty.
She glanced at Shikaku Nara, who was still buried in paperwork as if he couldn't hear a word of their conversation, and—understanding the implication—carefully avoided mentioning Orochimaru by name.
"I don't have real-time updates on Serval's progress," Cocolia said. "Hold on. I'll contact her."
A translucent, half-transparent interface unfolded before her eyes—visible to no one else. It was the private UI of her Shinobi World Chat Group (Subgroup).
[Cocolia → @Serval: You awake?]
The response came almost instantly.
[Serval: Awake, awake! Wide awake! I'm feeling fantastic!]
Even through text alone, the excitement practically vibrated.
[Serval: I tried the medication she provided, and her chakra-stimulation plan too. The results are amazing. I've been awake three days and three nights straight, and I still don't feel tired at all.]
Cocolia's brows drew together faintly.
[Cocolia: No damage to your body?]
There was worry in the question—subtle, but real.
Still, she wasn't overly alarmed. The greatest medical expert in the shinobi world was sitting right beside her. And even in the worst-case scenario, if Tsunade couldn't fix it, they could ask the mysterious Group Owner, Eisen, for help.
Or simply send Serval back to Belobog and let the Preservation Path wash her system clean—whatever the issue, it would be gone.
Serval's willingness to use herself as a test subject probably came from that same confidence: a safety net existed.
Serval's reply arrived quickly.
[Serval: Relax, Cocolia! She ran tests personally. She says my baseline physical condition is tougher than the average shinobi here, and my tolerance is higher too.It's just that back in Belobog I relied too much on Path power for combat, so I never really pushed my body's own potential.This medication and chakra stimulation? It's basically a warm-up. Completely within safe limits. No negative effects.]
Cocolia's last trace of worry eased.
[Cocolia: Good.Things are going smoothly here. Tsunade has formally taken office as Hokage, and I've gotten a preliminary grasp on the shinobi world's overall structure from the archives.How's your side progressing?]
On the other end of the connection, deep inside the dim underground base of the Sound Village, Serval stared at the message and scratched her messy blonde hair in frustration. There was even a smear of grease in it.
The information overload about the shinobi world's technological state was enormous—too many threads, too many contradictions. Trying to explain it with a few lines of text felt impossible.
She sighed and typed fast.
[Serval: It's complicated. I can't explain it well in text. I'll come over and tell you in person.]
The moment the message sent, a figure appeared out of thin air inside the Hokage's office.
Serval stood right in the center of the room, still dressed in practical work clothes. Her hair was a little chaotic, but her eyes were bright—almost dazzling.
Shikaku's pen paused for the faintest heartbeat.
His pulse quickened, though his face remained composed. Out of the corner of his eye, he ran a rapid scan of Serval from head to toe—clothing, posture, breathing rhythm—hunting for anything useful.
His mind raced.
That ANBU woman—Cocolia—said she'd talk to someone named Serval… then she fell silent for a long time…
Some kind of long-range communication technique? Like Yamanaka mind transmission? But there was no clear chakra fluctuation… and what's the range?
And now this person—apparently Serval—had bypassed ANBU security, the sensory barrier network, and the surveillance squad that operated nonstop, appearing in the Hokage's office as if the village didn't exist.
Exactly like Cocolia's earlier "arrival."
A high-level space-time technique?
So it wasn't exclusive to Cocolia. Did Tsunade possess a technique that could summon specific people instantly to her side?
The strategic value of that…
Shikaku suddenly felt how painfully shallow his understanding was—of the soon-to-be Fifth Hokage, and the mysterious inner circle around her.
Tsunade's voice cut through the brief stiffness in the air.
"So—what's the situation?"
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking straight onto Serval.
Serval rubbed her temples hard, as if trying to force her tangled thoughts into order.
"It's hard to sum up," she said, exhaling. She walked to the window. The entire village was laid out below.
Outside, power lines crisscrossed between buildings in a messy web. Air-conditioning units hung outside windows, droning steadily. Through a few open windows, you could glimpse refrigerators and television screens flickering with moving images.
"The shinobi world's technology is way too weird!" Serval said, her tone filled with genuine confusion—as if she were describing a paradox that shouldn't exist.
"Look at this. You've got refrigerators, air conditioners, televisions, and long-distance power transmission. In medicine and human modification—an advanced field—you even have high-precision computer equipment."
She turned around, her back to the view that looked almost modern and prosperous.
"But what about basic livelihoods and agriculture? No large-scale farming machinery. Planting and harvesting still rely on human and animal labor—so inefficient it's absurd. Manufacturing is all small, workshop-level stuff. You have trains and ships, but why are important information and materials still being transported by shinobi teams?"
Her frustration sharpened.
"And communications are a mess too. Short-range radio exists. Mid-range security cameras exist. But chakra is like an omnipresent interference field—once you push distance, everything turns into garbage."
She spread her hands, helpless.
"It's contradictory. It's irrational. You've clearly unlocked high-end tech applications, so why are the most fundamental things—the ones that free up productivity and improve civilian life—almost nonexistent? That's the opposite of how technological development is supposed to work!"
Serval came from Belobog, a world with scarce resources and brutal survival pressure.
To Belobog, every ounce of productivity had to be accounted for—used for survival and construction.
She couldn't understand how this kind of deformed, lopsided development could be accepted and maintained across an entire world.
The office went quiet. Only faint street noise drifted in from outside.
Tsunade tapped her fingers against the desk unconsciously, thinking.
A soft chuckle broke the silence.
Cocolia shifted her posture, relaxed against the cold wall, arms folded.
"This isn't hard to understand, Serval," she said calmly. "In these past few days—through observation and archive analysis—I've formed a clear outline of how this world is structured."
She raised three fingers, her nails catching the sunlight.
"The shinobi world is essentially divided into three distinct classes."
She lowered two fingers, leaving one.
"At the bottom is the enormous civilian class. They work from sunrise to sunset, hands calloused, backs bent—farming, weaving, building… the most basic production that supports society. They are the foundation of material wealth, and also the most silent, most powerless group."
She lifted a second finger.
"Above them is the noble class—those who control power and wealth. They don't produce, but through harsh taxes, rent, and monopolies, they greedily siphon off the vast majority of what civilians create."
Then she raised a third finger.
"And connecting the two—serving the nobles' needs for control—is the military class."
Her eyes sharpened.
"The shinobi class. Nobles use money extracted from civilians to hire shinobi. Shinobi provide force, execute special missions, and fight wars between nations."
"Shinobi are the sharpest blade in the nobles' hands—and also the violence machine that keeps this exploitation structure stable."
Cocolia looked back to Serval, a hint of razor-edged irony in her voice.
"Now, to your question. Those refrigerators, air conditioners, computers… did they really develop naturally?"
She answered without hesitation.
"No."
"They weren't born from exploration of basic scientific principles or driven by civilian needs. They're the result of a small group of elite shinobi—those with deep chakra mastery, power, and resources—forcing out chakra-based black tech without building the full prerequisite tech tree."
She peeled the illusion away piece by piece.
"Shinobi need to preserve valuable samples and medicines—so refrigerators appear. Shinobi want comfort in underground bases or scorching climates—so air conditioning appears."
"They need to process massive datasets, simulate jutsu, or run precision human experiments—so high-end computers appear."
Her voice gained a cold, mocking edge.
"They obviously understand that simplifying and distributing these technologies—bringing them into civilian life and agriculture—would unleash enormous productivity. Crop yields would explode. Transportation would become efficient. Information would move freely. This world would change beyond recognition."
"But."
Her tone turned sharp, cutting.
"Would the noble class allow that? Productivity liberation means civilian power grows. It means the exploitation structure loosens—maybe collapses."
"Nobles enjoy comfort and privilege maintained by shinobi violence and civilian blood and sweat. They instinctively fear any change that might break the balance."
"And shinobi?"
Cocolia's gaze flicked toward Tsunade and Shikaku.
"Shinobi serve nobles. They're paid and supplied by nobles. Their interests are heavily bound to those nobles. Maintaining the status quo guarantees stable mission supply and generous payment."
"Distributing technology that changes civilian life offers them no immediate benefit—might even threaten their status as society shifts."
"And more importantly, it violates the will of their employers."
"So shinobi also choose—quietly—to enforce knowledge barriers and technological monopolies. The 'high tech' exists only inside villages, laboratories, mission bases, and places that serve noble indulgence."
"It does not flow into the public."
Cocolia's voice softened into something like a heavy sigh.
"And civilians?"
"Under double-layered knowledge suppression—nobles above, shinobi enforcing—basic literacy is already difficult to guarantee. Forget systematic scientific education, forget innovation."
"They're chained to the land, repeating ancestral labor. They have neither the ability nor the conditions to touch knowledge that's been locked away."
Then Cocolia's eyes slid toward Shikaku, as if mentioning it casually.
"And this monopoly doesn't stop at civilians."
"Even within the shinobi class, there's an enormous gap between civilian-born shinobi and ancient clan shinobi."
"The latter have secret family jutsu and training methods. The former?"
"They grind missions, trade blood and life for a trickle of techniques from the village."
Cocolia's voice was flat—almost clinical.
"This monopoly strangles upward mobility at the root. It kills the possibility of changing one's fate. That is the shinobi world's rule."
Silence.
Shikaku felt as if a silent thunderbolt had struck him and left him rigid.
When Serval first asked why technology looked so wrong, his first response had been confusion.
To him, Konoha's prosperity and shinobi strength had always been "the world."
Power lines, refrigerators, air conditioners… it all felt as natural as breathing.
He'd never thought there was a problem.
But Serval had torn the surface open with her bewilderment—revealing the jagged contrast between "high-end" and "primitive."
And his mind had begun to run.
If those technologies—currently serving only nobles and shinobi—were simplified and distributed into farms, workshops, and transportation lines…
If chakra interference could be overcome and radio networks could cover the land…
If trains and ships replaced shinobi couriers…
Images flashed through his head:
Golden fields harvested by massive machines. Mountains of supplies moving on rails. Information crossing hundreds of miles instantly. Civilian lives becoming visibly richer.
What kind of explosive productivity leap would that be?
What kind of earthshaking social upheaval would follow?
The conclusion crushed him with suffocating shock.
He realized—for the first time with brutal clarity—that the world he accepted as "normal" was fundamentally irrational… and terrifyingly fragile.
Then came the deeper question:
Why?
Why had something so obviously distorted become the shinobi world's default rule for decades—maybe centuries?
Why had everyone—including him—accepted it without thought?
What kind of stubborn, powerful force maintained it?
And then Cocolia's analysis arrived like a scalpel—precise and merciless—slicing through every remaining fog and laying the truth bare:
Three classes.
Exploitation.
Interlocking interests.
Knowledge suppression.
Technological monopoly.
Each phrase hit like a hammer.
Shikaku understood instantly.
Everything connected.
Noble greed. Shinobi dependence on the existing system. Civilian ignorance and helplessness.
This wasn't an accident.
It was inevitable.
A cage built by the beneficiaries to preserve privilege.
Cold sweat soaked through Shikaku's undershirt, clinging to his skin in a chilling film. He felt a brief wave of dizziness and had to lower his head, pressing fingers hard against his temple.
Because one final realization slammed into him like falling ice:
Konoha was the strongest shinobi village in the world.
And he—Nara Shikaku—Konoha's chief strategist, clan head of a legacy family—
stood very high on this pyramid of vested interests.
He, his status, his clan…
were pillars supporting the system's bones.
The absurdity and inversion hit him like a tidal wave.
He raised his head, restless and wary now, his eyes darting between the three women in the room.
Tsunade-sama… what are you actually planning to do?
But the other three were unnervingly calm in the face of his internal quake.
Tsunade only glanced at him—deep and unreadable, as if she'd expected this all along.
Cocolia's gaze remained steady, as though she'd simply stated an obvious fact.
Serval blinked, still digesting the analysis, barely noticing Shikaku's disturbance.
Konoha—and the Sand Village, now under hidden control—
were already effectively in Tsunade's hands.
And with foreign knowledge and an expanded worldview, Tsunade's gaze had long since pierced through the limits of the shinobi village system established under the daimyō.
Change was coming.
Like an arrow drawn to its limit.
Waiting only to be released.
As for Shikaku?
In Tsunade and Cocolia's eyes, he was first and foremost a smart man.
Smart men can be negotiated with—and that also means they can be dangerous.
Letting him see reality clearly and willingly step into the tide was far better than forcing or deceiving him.
It reduced future resistance.
It prevented that brilliant mind from brooding in a corner—spinning suspicion into trouble.
It was the same logic Tsunade had used with Orochimaru.
A mind at that level—if bound by force—would only give perfunctory obedience.
But if left alone, or pushed into opposition…
the damage could become catastrophic.
As for Shikaku's final choice—
a faint, cold gleam flickered in the depths of Cocolia's eyes.
If he couldn't accept it, or tried to obstruct it, then Tsunade—or Cocolia herself—could simply use the Word-Spirit Tights to compel him.
Serval's confusion dissolved into clarity as Cocolia's explanation settled.
"So that's what it is…"
She let out a long breath, understanding shining in her eyes—then quickly shaded by something more complicated.
"…That's really different from Belobog."
In her homeland, a city locked in seven hundred years of winter and crisis, survival was the only priority.
Resources were so scarce every action had to be optimized. There was no room for suppressing productivity just to protect privilege.
Everyone—architects and Silvermane Guards alike—worked toward a single goal:
Survive. Continue.
And in the Star Rail universe, the existence of the Paths pushed most people toward belief and ideals. Power struggles existed, yes—but a systemic, structural knowledge blockade like the shinobi world's felt like a grotesque novelty to her.
Cocolia didn't let her linger.
She cut straight to the next problem.
"Given the current conditions, can you design and build large-scale agricultural machines—tillers and combine harvesters?"
Serval snapped instantly back into professional mode.
Technician's focus. Engineer's precision.
She nodded confidently.
"Technically, no problem. The structures aren't complicated. I can produce blueprints and build prototypes quickly."
Then she frowned.
"But there's a key issue: do we include chakra-driven systems?"
She moved to the window and spoke faster, laying out the trade-offs.
"If we don't include chakra and rely on pure mechanics and fossil fuels, efficiency and durability drop a lot. More importantly, this world is saturated with chakra—especially where shinobi operate."
"Fine mechanical components are extremely vulnerable to chakra interference and corrosion. Failures would spike. Lifespans would crash."
She spread her hands again.
"But if we use chakra as the core power source, then the drive system and control system can rely on chakra circuits. Efficiency and quality become easy, and environmental resistance shoots up."
"Except then we hit the other wall."
"Civilians without chakra can't operate the equipment. It becomes another tool only shinobi and nobles can use—meaning it won't actually liberate the bottom layer."
Cocolia's fingers rubbed her chin, eyes turning inward with calculation.
"Use chakra drive," she decided cleanly.
"As for civilians operating it—I already have a few improvement ideas regarding this world's chakra system. That problem can be solved."
"You focus on design and manufacturing. I'll handle the energy-access and operational adaptation."
Serval shrugged, accepting the directive without emotion.
To her, choosing a technical route was simply choosing a path toward the objective.
She was a builder. A solver.
Once the decision-maker set the direction, she would execute.
"Understood. I'll prioritize the chakra-driven version."
Cocolia moved immediately to the next point, gaze shifting as if it could see through walls—past Konoha, toward the endless sands of the Land of Wind.
"Then what about the Land of Wind? Do we have a concrete plan to improve it? Stabilizing the Sand Village is a crucial part of our strategy."
Shikaku's ear caught the keywords—Land of Wind, Sand Village.
His barely-settled mind stirred again.
Why bring up Wind Country now?
Had Tsunade's influence over Sunagakure already reached the point where they could discuss its environmental core problems?
Serval reacted differently.
She froze for a split second—then her brows lifted.
She understood Cocolia's intent.
Earlier, because Shikaku was present—and because Orochimaru was "officially" still Konoha's traitor—they'd avoided mentioning their collaboration openly.
But now that Cocolia had brought up the Sand Village directly, the signal was clear:
No need to keep tiptoeing around Orochimaru's existence in front of Shikaku anymore.
Serval spoke calmly, professionally, as if reciting a normal project report.
"Everything is progressing smoothly on that side."
"She has basically taken control of the Sand Village and acquired the most detailed geographical, climate, and resource data in the Land of Wind."
"We've analyzed it. Conventional desert-control methods—massive reforestation, building mountain barriers to intercept moisture, or extracting deep groundwater for irrigation—would work in theory."
"But the effect is too slow."
"It could take decades, even a century, to see significant change. It would require enormous investment, constant maintenance, and in Wind Country's extreme environment, one major disaster—or one human mistake—could undo everything."
"For our needs—fast, decisive environmental transformation—it's not enough."
Serval's eyes lit with the fierce joy of facing a challenge. She stepped forward, voice gaining force.
"My recommendation is: skip the tedious, low-efficiency process. Go straight to the final solution."
She spread her arms, as if embracing something enormous.
"Combining Reenactment, chakra, technology, and puppet techniques, we can build a super-scale engineering machine unlike anything this world has ever seen."
She delivered the concept like a hammer strike.
"A shinobi-world version of a Creation Engine."
"Use it to directly modify the geology of the Sand Village—no, the entire core region of Wind Country."
"Reshape terrain. Redirect deep water sources. Solidify shifting sands. Even alter local climate circulation."
"Brute force, direct, shortest time."
"Turn that death desert into a livable, developable oasis."
"This is the solution that matches our efficiency requirements."
A Creation Engine?
Modifying geology?
Shikaku felt his brain beginning to fail him.
A moment ago they were dissecting the brutal class structure and the monopoly on technology.
Now they were leaping straight into using a world-scale machine to remake a nation's natural environment.
This wasn't reform.
It was…
the work of gods.
His eyes locked onto Serval, searching her face for even a trace of joking.
There was none.
Only absolute certainty.
A chill crawled up his spine—mixed with a surreal sense of unreality and a sharp fear of what lay beyond his understanding.
Inside him, questions boiled like magma.
Tsunade-sama… what are you trying to do?!
Smash the thousand-year power structure. Shatter the old order of nobles and villages.
And at the same time, wield near-miraculous power to rewrite the land itself?
That scale…
"That's a good idea," Cocolia said, cutting through Shikaku's swirling thoughts. "Efficient."
Her expression showed faint satisfaction.
In Belobog—ice-locked, resource-poor, always on the edge—efficiency had been carved into her bones.
Serval clapped her hands, ready to leave.
"Anything else? If not, I'm gone. She's waiting for me."
Serval wasn't even trying to hide anything anymore.
Cocolia nodded. "Go."
Serval vanished as abruptly as she'd arrived, leaving only the faint scent of machine oil in the air.
She had already used group teleportation to return to the research base—continuing discussions about a Creation Engine capable of changing the world itself.
On their table lay stacks of classified geological reports from the Sand Village and puppet-technique scrolls.
The office was left with three people.
Tsunade finally pulled her gaze off Shikaku's face. The amused look faded.
She leaned back in the chair, fingers interlaced over her abdomen, voice blunt and direct—leaving no escape.
"Alright, Shikaku. No one else is here."
"If you've got questions, ask. Keeping it bottled up isn't comfortable, is it?"
Shikaku inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, forcing his heartbeat back into something resembling control.
Then he turned to Cocolia, and his eyes carried a level of reverence he hadn't expected to feel—mixed with the faintest thread of fear.
He bowed slightly, sincere.
"So… you're the one strategizing for Tsunade-sama behind the scenes."
"Seeing you today—your thinking, your perspective—truly… astonishing."
"Shikaku… feels inferior."
Cocolia only returned a polite nod, elegant and distant, accepting the greeting without any show.
Tsunade waved impatiently.
"Enough. Quit flattering. It's useless."
"Talk about the real thing."
Her eyes sharpened like a blade, stabbing straight into Shikaku.
"What do you honestly think—about everything we just discussed?"
"I want the real judgment of the Nara clan head. Konoha's chief strategist."
In the instant her words landed, Shikaku's expression hardened into full seriousness.
The last trace of looseness vanished.
"Too fast."
Three words, absolute.
He met Tsunade and Cocolia's gaze and laid it out cleanly.
"With what you just described—chakra farm tools to unleash civilian productivity, a Creation Engine to reshape environments and erase resource inequality—if it's implemented successfully…"
"Then the entire shinobi world's underlying logic is rewritten."
His speed increased as his mind ran the consequences.
"Civilians no longer struggle just to survive. Food and basic goods become abundant. Wars driven by resource scarcity lose their soil."
"The geographical advantages and resource endowments that the Five Great Villages depend on become meaningless in the face of a machine that can reshape geology and climate."
"Strategic barriers disappear. Power gaps are forcibly flattened."
"If that becomes reality…"
A flash of longing crossed Shikaku's eyes—quickly drowned by deeper worry.
"The thousand-year cycle of war might actually end."
"When the foundation of survival no longer depends on plunder and slaughter, when regional difference is erased…"
"Then aside from the greed and malice that can't be removed from human nature, the reasons for war are stripped away at the root."
"Peace… might truly be within reach."
He paused—then his tone dropped into heavy gravity.
"But—too fast, Tsunade-sama."
"Your plan leaves this world—this thousand-year order—no buffer at all."
"You're forcing reality to change with the most violent method possible."
"And that means there is only one outcome."
"Every ruling class and vested interest will fight back—madly."
"To the death."
Shikaku pointed out the truth without dodging it.
"I, Nara Shikaku—Nara clan head—am also one of the beneficiaries of the old order."
His eyes were honest, clear.
"But I can also clearly see the future you're building: a world rich in resources, where class walls are broken."
"In that future, Nara's advantage of inherited wisdom may be partially leveled."
"But the total resources and development space the clan can gain will surpass the present so completely they can't be compared."
"As for status?"
"The Nara have always been early adapters. Our ancestors were among the first to see the trend and surrender part of their independence to join Konoha."
"For us, long-term stable peace is far more valuable than keeping a higher rung on the ladder."
"So in the long run, if your goal succeeds, it benefits Nara—without question."
Then he hammered the point again.
"But the problem is still: too fast."
"Nobles hold secular authority and enormous wealth."
"The villages hold military violence."
"They're used to being above everyone else. Used to controlling everything."
"A change this violent—this foundational—is the same as digging out their roots, cutting their lifeline."
"How could they possibly accept it?"
"They will panic. They will struggle. They will use every method available to resist this flood that overturns their world."
His eyes cut toward the window, as if he could see the invisible tides gathering.
"And the most terrifying part is the civilians."
"They've been kept ignorant for generations. Short-sighted. Easy to stir."
"The nobles and village resistance will take advantage of that—twisting the reforms into a Konoha conspiracy, whipping up rage and chaos."
"If that force detonates… the destructive power will be incalculable."
His gaze swept across Tsunade and Cocolia, dense with worry.
"Even inside Konoha."
"Will the clans truly surrender their advantage over civilian shinobi without resentment?"
"Will they accept a new world where strength is leveled?"
"Human hearts changing… is harder than changing the heavens and the earth."
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
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Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 81
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Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 60
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 61
Checking In in Demon Slayer 65
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 80
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Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 26
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