Chapter 139: Jiraiya! The one who should reflect is you! And that big toad too!

Tachibana Jiro’s words painted an expression of utter complexity across Biwa Jūzō’s face—but his lower half was smeared with strange, blood-red grease paint, making it impossible to read his emotions.

“Ninja Cat… you’re saying Iizumi knows a lot about the Akatsuki Organization? Does that include intel on Orochimaru?”

Jiraiya never thought he’d be asking a question of a cat.

But he desperately needed to know where Orochimaru was.

“Capturing the traitor Orochimaru and bringing him back to Leaf Village,” he thought, “and finding the Chosen One the Great Toad Sage spoke of—those are the only two goals I’ve had since my youth.”

“Even if Iizumi knows, it’s none of your concern,” Tachibana Jiro sneered, glancing at Jiraiya with disdain. “Iizumi has no obligation to share intel with you. Especially not with you—his former friend. If you ever did find Orochimaru, would you even have the will to kill him?”

Jiraiya froze.

Then, Uchiha Iizumi’s voice cut in.

“You’ve never truly wanted to kill Orochimaru, have you?”

His gaze was cold, detached.

“To you, anger toward him isn’t because of what he did. It’s because he betrayed the Leaf Village. He broke the Will of Fire. That’s what you can’t tolerate.”

“That proves we’re on completely different paths.”

Iizumi turned to leave.

Before Jiraiya could recover, Biwa Jūzō suddenly called out:

“Uchiha Iizumi! Even if you know some of Akatsuki’s secrets, you can’t know my true purpose here. Aren’t you even curious about why I came?”

He was desperate.

This was the first time Biwa Jūzō had ever met a ninja who dismissed intelligence so casually.

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t grasp it.

“Want to spill your heart out? Go ahead,” Iizumi said coolly. “But if you’re trying to play some cryptic game, I’m not interested.”

Biwa Jūzō: “…!”

This guy was impossible to deal with.

Thankfully, he was a Leaf Village ninja—not an Akatsuki member.

If he were from Akatsuki, and even potentially assigned as his partner… Biwa Jūzō feared he’d one day be driven mad by him.

He clenched his jaw.

“Information requires fair exchange. I’ll tell you my purpose—on one condition. You tell me what I want to know.”

He straightened, no longer lounging. His height matched Iizumi’s. He looked him straight in the eye.

“What do you know about Madara Uchiha?”

Jiraiya: “!!”

Izumi: “!!”

“Madara Uchiha?”

The name stirred something in Konoha Rin’s memory.

Jiraiya and Iizumi both stiffened.

They knew that name—too well.

“Madara Uchiha… in the Akatsuki?” Jiraiya breathed, stunned. This was more shocking than any intel on Orochimaru.

“That man… he’s still alive?”

For Jiraiya, Madara was a relic of an old era—something from a time before even his own. He had believed the man had died in the First Hokage’s hands during the Battle of the End.

If he was still alive… how old was he now?

Jiraiya’s shock couldn’t be hidden. A chill crept through him.

It felt like a shadowy conspiracy, thick and impenetrable—like mist he couldn’t pierce.

And with no real grasp of the truth, Jiraiya felt an uneasy premonition.

“Madara Uchiha…” Iizumi murmured, then blinked.

“No… that can’t be the real Madara Uchiha. The man in Biwa Jūzō’s words—Zetsu couldn’t be the historical Madara. It’s almost certainly a fake—one played by Uchiha Obito.”

In the heavy silence, under Biwa Jūzō’s expectant stare, Iizumi spoke again, his tone flat:

“Biwa Jūzō, you’re only fit to be a killing machine on the battlefield. Not a spy.”

Biwa Jūzō froze.

“When you asked me about Madara, you already revealed your purpose—someone in Akatsuki sent you to me. You’re here to learn about Madara.”

“That’s your goal. That’s Akatsuki’s goal.”

Iizumi paused.

“Let me guess… who’s so curious about Madara?”

“Nagato… no. That’s not his nature. Whether Madara is real or not—doesn’t matter to him.”

Biwa Jūzō blinked.

Nagato…?

Who was that?

But Jiraiya—silent until now—suddenly widened his eyes, disbelief flooding his face.

“Miharu… he should be dead. Or long ago turned into a puppet.”

“Konan… that must be her.”

His voice dropped.

“So it is her. But you don’t even know her real name, do you? What was her alias in Akatsuki?”

“Shiro? Shiro Tiger?”

“Right?”

Biwa Jūzō’s expression turned from shock to horror.

He stared at Iizumi like he was a monster.

Every casual word, delivered like idle chatter, spilled secrets so deeply buried even he didn’t know them.

It was as if Iizumi was the true mastermind behind Akatsuki.

How could someone so young know so much—so precisely?

“Nagato… Miharu… Konan…”

Jiraiya whispered the names, his mind reeling.

His three former students—had they joined Akatsuki?

And not just members—high-ranking ones?

Otherwise, how could they command the Seven Swordsmen?

A wild thought struck him.

Could it be… Akatsuki was theirs?

That’s why Iizumi only named those three.

Because they were the core.

Jiraiya’s head spun.

In just minutes, he’d learned more than years of painstaking investigation had revealed.

…

At the Ninja Academy, members of the Hiruzen Clan and relatives of Izumi Kaede had arrived, quickly collecting the bodies and taking them away.

Hyūga Neji watched silently as the Hiruzen ninjas carried the corpses off.

He’d witnessed everything from a distance.

Now, his understanding of Absolute Justice deepened.

Part of him screamed: You should’ve followed him. You should’ve told him you want to believe in this Justice.

But Neji clenched his fists.

Fear. Deep, visceral fear.

Not just of Iizumi’s overwhelming power—but of the cold, merciless methods he used.

And shame.

Because of the Birdcage Seal branded across his forehead.

He was terrified—terrified that with that mark, Iizumi would reject him.

That he wouldn’t be worthy.

No one could have guessed that the academy’s greatest prodigy would be so torn.

“…Clan Head!!”

Neji knew his hesitation was disgraceful.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he vented his frustration on the Hyūga Main Branch.

Then—suddenly—a voice rang out behind him.

“You’re the Hyūga Neji the dork mentioned—strange, yet drawn to Justice, right?”

Neji frowned, turning.

There stood Uchiha Sasuke, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp.

He knew Sasuke.

He’d seen him outside the Hyūga Compound—son of the Uchiha Clan Head, and the one who’d killed a young Hyūga.

Despite being just insulted by Yamana Ino, Sasuke still wore that cold, Uchiha-like aura.

He stared straight at Neji.

“If you truly believe in Iizumi’s Absolute Justice—if you’re worried about it—then you shouldn’t hesitate. People full of doubt can’t carry out Justice properly.”

Neji stiffened.

Had Sasuke read his mind?

Or was his inner turmoil so obvious?

Sasuke studied him.

“I know you’re called the greatest talent in the academy in recent years. I’ve heard you’ve already matched sixth-years—graduates—in strength. For a time, I even saw you as someone I had to surpass.”

He smirked.

“Now? Surpassing someone so conflicted? What’s the point? I’ve already passed you.”

“I’m not conflicted,” Neji snapped, eyes narrowing. “I’m not hesitating.”

“You don’t understand Justice,” Sasuke said coolly. “What you showed at the dork’s place—your curiosity, your longing—it’s not for Justice. It’s for power. To you, Justice is strength. You crave it.”

“And if you do finally speak your mind to Iizumi? He won’t accept you. Not because you’re weak—but because you’re not worthy.”

Neji froze.

“Why not?”

Sasuke parroted Ino’s words, rephrased in his own style.

“True Justice… is about protecting the victims. It’s about defending the innocent. It’s about judging the guilty. It’s about upholding true morality.”

“Hyūga Neji—have you ever done any of those?”

Neji stared.

“Just chasing power under the name of Justice? You’re nothing but a puppet of strength. One day, you’ll fall into darkness.”

Sasuke didn’t wait for a reply.

He turned, walking away with deliberate slowness—perfectly capturing the Uchiha demeanor.

“…”

Neji stood motionless, silent.

…

“How was it?” As soon as Sasuke turned the corner, Naruto rushed up, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Did he crack? What did he say?”

Sasuke’s stoic mask cracked.

He let out a soft huff.

“Dork… why’d you make me do that?”

Naruto grinned.

“Because he’s curious about Justice. But he doesn’t really understand it—just like we did at first. Someone had to show him what real Justice is—just like Ino showed us.”

“He’ll be one of us soon!”

Naruto beamed, slapping Sasuke on the shoulder.

“And we’re helping Iizumi build new Justice bloodlines! That’s not boring!”

He paused, then added, “Besides, I think he’s got potential. Maybe he’ll be the fourth believer in the academy!”

Sasuke scowled, brushing Naruto’s hand off.

“Next time, you do it.”

Naruto pouted.

“If I could remember all that crap, I’d do it myself.”

Behind Naruto, Ino watched silently.

She was getting more and more convinced—these two were not mature.

Iizumi never said they should recruit new followers in the academy.

And yet they were doing it anyway.

Was that really okay?

Then—Ino sensed something.

She turned, eyes narrowing.

A pink-haired head suddenly ducked back.

“Ino?”

…

“Pfft—!”

In the Hokage’s office, Hiruzen Sarutobi was sipping tea when an Anbu Ninja’s report made him nearly spit the drink all over Tsunade Konoha.

“The Rain Village envoy was arrested by the Investigation Corps?!”

Hiruzen’s face was a mask of disbelief.

He’d hoped that after Uchiha Iizumi’s Justice, things would calm down.

But now—this?

He was flustered.

“Which Rain ninja?!”

Tsunade Konoha, having just dodged the spray, frowned.

“The Rain envoys were being hosted by Yūhi. Could Iizumi really have arrested someone in front of her?”

She paused—then realized her own mistake.

Because Iizumi had the nerve.

He’d killed a Hyūga Clan member right in front of Hyūga Menji.

So arresting someone? Of course he’d do it.

“No,” the Anbu replied. “It was Biwa Jūzō—the traitor who defected to Rain Village. And it wasn’t Iizumi who captured him. It was Iizumi’s subordinate—Uchiha Izumi.”

“It was her?!”

Tsunade Konoha’s expression darkened.

She remembered that girl—she’d mocked her, openly, in front of her.

She hated that Uchiha girl.

And now she’d arrested one of Rain Village’s envoys?

She narrowed her eyes.

“You were one of the Anbus tracking Biwa Jūzō, right? Why didn’t you stop her?”

“Because Jiraiya was there,” the Anbu reported. “When Iizumi and Mitarashi Anko demanded Biwa Jūzō be taken to the Investigation Corps—Jiraiya arrived. He looked like he wanted the prisoner too.”

Tsunade Konoha was stunned.

The Hiruzen Sakuko incident had involved Kushina—but that was expected. Tsunade had little faith in that gambling addict.

But this? Jiraiya—back in the village—already stirring trouble?

Sannin of the Leaf… what was going on?

“Biwa Jūzō arrested…?” Hiruzen’s brow furrowed.

“That’s a serious diplomatic incident. If he were just a rogue Mist ninja, it’d be one thing. But he’s a Rain envoy. If anything happens, we’ll have no explanation to give.”

He paused.

“But… if Iizumi’s subordinate attacked him immediately, that suggests it’s not a death sentence.”

Tsunade Konoha blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“If Iizumi and his team were truly intent on killing him—especially someone like Biwa Jūzō—they’d have executed him on the spot. No trial, no arrest.”

“Now, he’s just captured. That means—for now—he’s not going to be killed.”

Tsunade Konoha twitched.

That… actually made sense.

“But we can’t keep a Rain envoy locked up in the Investigation Corps. That’s unacceptable. If the Rain leader hears, we’ll be in deep trouble.”

“Agreed,” Hiruzen nodded.

“Go tell Fugaku. Have him use his authority as Corps Commander to order Biwa Jūzō’s release.”

“Yes, Hokage-sama!”

…

In the Uchiha Police Force interrogation room, Iizumi’s calm gaze stood in stark contrast to the shock on Jiraiya and Biwa Jūzō’s faces.

“Akatsuki…?” Jiraiya breathed, ignoring everyone else.

“Is it true? Did Miharu and the others create Akatsuki?”

Iizumi glanced at him.

Jiraiya saw the answer in that cold stare.

Yes.

Jiraiya felt another chill.

He didn’t mind Iizumi’s silence.

“Then… what was their purpose?” he pressed. “My years of research—Akatsuki seemed to be just a mercenary force, inciting wars between nations for profit. That’s… not like them.”

“What illusion makes you think you can understand their hearts?” Iizumi finally spoke.

“And what delusion makes you believe your former students had to follow the path you imagined for them?”

He continued, voice like ice.

“Drop that arrogance, Jiraiya. The twisted Ninja World breeds extremes—extreme ideals, extreme monsters. You can’t begin to imagine what it creates.”

“Your two surviving students—after the death of the most innocent one—were already corrupted. Or even if no one led them astray… the world itself warped them. They’re sick, like the world.”

Jiraiya blinked.

“You sound… like you know them better than I do.”

Biwa Jūzō spoke.

“You’re making me think you’re the real mastermind behind Akatsuki!”

But Iizumi ignored him.

He turned back to Jiraiya.

“Want to know what your two living students are thinking?”

“…Yes.”

Biwa Jūzō: “…!”

Damn it! He was an elite of Mist, yet here he was—completely ignored.

And yet… he was curious.

Iizumi didn’t treat Nagato’s secrets as secrets.

They weren’t his.

“Your Nagato believes the Ninja World is sick. He thinks peace is impossible in this cursed world. He believes people can never truly understand one another.”

Jiraiya froze.

That was nothing like Miharu.

It was the opposite.

“He seeks a weapon capable of destroying nations. He wants to make the world feel pain—so that fear of war will finally stop it.”

“Konan? She has no real will of her own. She follows Miharu. Then follows Nagato.”

Iizumi’s lips twitched—just slightly.

Not a smile of approval.

A smirk of mockery.

“Jiraiya… did you even teach them culture?”

The words hit hard.

Jiraiya didn’t know what “Wolong Fengchu” meant.

But he felt the contempt in the words.

Iizumi clearly despised Nagato’s idea—make the world suffer, so it stops fighting.

And then, the final question.

Jiraiya had no answer.

Because… he hadn’t taught them culture.

Back then—war was everywhere. Rain Village was falling apart. All he could teach was how to survive.

But now… he regretted it.

Maybe… he should have taught them.

Miharu? Maybe not. He was the only one who was sane.

But Nagato and Konan—they needed it.

Too late now.

“Hah… sounds like I overheard something I shouldn’t have.” Biwa Jūzō’s face tightened.

He felt like he might be killed once he got back.

Unless… she didn’t know what happened here.

“So you’re the source of all evil! Meow!” Tachibana Jiro pointed a paw at Jiraiya.

“Those three—what Iizumi just named—weren’t they your Chosen Ones? The ones the toad spoke of?”

Jiraiya’s face paled.

“The Chosen One the toad promised? The savior? Jiraiya… you found and trained a savior who wants to destroy the entire Ninja World.”

“Meow—how do you know the next Chosen One won’t be warped too? Or worse… are you the one who warped them?”

“You’re the one who should reflect, Jiraiya!”

“You’ve been fooled by that toad! Believe that toad, or believe us, the Ninja Cats!”

“We’re the ones who truly care about restoring Justice. We’re the ones helping Iizumi—without dragging the world onto some Chosen One’s shoulders.”

“Not like that toad. Not like you.”

Tachibana Jiro railed against Jiraiya and the Great Toad Sage.

Jiraiya opened his mouth—then closed it.

He felt his face burn.

…

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end