Mufasa took a deep breath as he looked around the room. His subordinates were talented, no doubt about it.
The Hidden Sand had some of the best minds and strongest fighters under his command. But talent without discipline was dangerous.
"Everyone has their own ideas," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "And if they aren't guided properly, they'll run wild."
Frustration crept into his voice as he addressed his council. "Enough. I need solutions, not arguments. Let's focus on creating a solid reform plan. We need to move forward, not talk in circles."
With that, another long, exhausting day of discussions began. Progress was slow, but at least they were moving in the right direction.
Several days later, near the entrance to the industrial sector, two Sand ninja patrolled the area.
Satou adjusted the mechanical prosthetic eye in his right socket, scanning the passersby. He had been a victim of a brutal attack years ago, losing his right eye and left leg.
Now, both had been replaced with high-tech mechanical enhancements. His cold, analytical gaze swept the street, as emotionless as ever.
But even he wasn't as intimidating as his partner, Jiro.
The man was born with an expression that never changed—his face permanently unreadable, as if carved from stone.
The two patrolled in exoskeleton suits equipped with three-dimensional mobility devices and high-frequency blades at their waists. They looked imposing, but the villagers were used to them. No one batted an eye as they passed.
Jiro sighed. "Another boring day."
Satou nodded. "Ever since Mufasa's reforms, the village runs like clockwork. Fewer crimes, fewer disturbances."
They continued their rounds, wandering aimlessly—until a commotion near the industrial gate caught their attention.
Finally. Something interesting.
Jiro's lips barely twitched, the closest thing to excitement he ever showed.
The two rushed forward, only to find… a runaway camel.
One of the nomads from the Sharan tribe struggled to regain control as the panicked beast bucked wildly, nearly trampling bystanders.
Satou sighed. "Not exactly the grand mission I was hoping for."
Jiro didn't waste time. He stepped forward, grabbed the camel's reins with practiced ease, and yanked hard. The animal reared but ultimately calmed down under his firm grip.
The Saharan tribesman bowed deeply. "Thank you!"
Jiro, as always, said nothing. Satou gave the man a nod. "Be more careful next time."
Just as the group was about to disperse, Satou's mechanical eye locked onto a figure among the nomads.
Something felt off.
"Hey, you," he called.
The figure froze.
Satou narrowed his gaze. The man's robe and hood hid most of his features, but his attire didn't match the others. The patterns on his cloak were different.
"Come here."
Jiro turned his sharp gaze toward the man, ready for anything.
The stranger hesitated, then stepped forward as if complying.
But the moment he reached them, he threw off his robe.
Underneath, he wore a ninja's uniform. His hands moved in a blur—one reaching for a scroll, the other gripping a brush.
Satou's instincts screamed danger. "Not good!"
Too late.
The man finished his jutsu. "Ninja Art: Super Beast Scroll!"
From the unfurled parchment, ink creatures sprang to life—eagles, serpents, tigers, rats, and dragons, all surging toward the two Sand ninja.
Spy.
Both Satou and Jiro drew their high-frequency blades in unison.
Steel met ink. The vibrating energy of their blades sliced through the beasts, disrupting their chakra constructs instantly.
But the ink creatures weren't meant to kill.
The ink splattered across the area, clouding their vision.
Chaos erupted. Villagers screamed and scattered.
By the time the ink settled, the enemy had already leaped onto the back of a massive ink bird.
"Damn it!" Satou cursed. "He's escaping!"
Jiro didn't hesitate. "Not if we stop him."
They activated their three-dimensional mobility gear. Anchors shot out, latching onto the village walls. With a whir of machinery, the cables retracted, flinging them forward at incredible speed.
The chase was on.
Their pursuit was fast, but their enemy was faster. Sai, an expert in deception and speed, knew exactly how to keep them at bay. He drew another scroll mid-air. "Super Beast Art: Water Serpents!"
Dozens of ink snakes surged toward the Sand ninja, their liquid bodies twisting unpredictably.
The two slashed through them, but the ink exploded upon impact, further obscuring their sight. More serpents lunged from the darkness.
Satou barely had time to react before one wrapped around his leg, yanking him downward.
Jiro slashed at the constricting ink, but another snake slammed into him, sending him crashing into a wall.
By the time they recovered, Sai was gone.
"Damn it!" Satou punched the ground. "He got away."
Jiro was silent, his fist clenching.
Then, they both turned their heads toward the village wall.
None of the security measures had activated. No alarms. No countermeasures.
Something wasn't right.
Inside the central control room, Mufasa leaned back in his chair, watching the monitors with a smirk.
Beside him, Yoruya frowned. "My lord, are you really going to let that spy escape so easily?"
Mufasa chuckled. "Of course."
Nocturne's frown deepened. "Why? He stole valuable information."
Mufasa's grin widened. "Exactly."
Understanding dawned on Yoruya's face. "You're using him."
"Let him run straight to Konoha," Mufasa said, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Because once he delivers that information, Tsunade and Danzo will have a real headache on their hands."
He laughed, folding his hands behind his head. "And then… the real fun begins."
Sai entered the Hidden Sand Village under the guise of an assistant at the sandworm breeding facility.
It was the perfect cover, granting him access to the village's industrial sector.
However, he and Shigara Tanuki were under constant surveillance by the Sand Village's ANBU. Every move they made was being watched.
Despite knowing Sai was a spy, Mufasa didn't stop him.
In fact, he made things easy for him—occasionally allowing Sai to steal drawing paper and blueprints.
But everything Sai managed to steal was precisely what Mufasa wanted him to take.
Mufasa wasn't worried about espionage.
Industrial advancement wasn't something that could be copied overnight.
A factory didn't become a powerhouse simply because someone smuggled out blueprints.
Industry relied on a complex ecosystem—resources, logistics, skilled labor, and technological refinement.
If you gave a feudal lord a sewing machine, could he stitch a space suit? If you handed a blacksmith an iron rod, could he forge a spaceship? Of course not.
Shimura Danzo thought everything revolved around jutsu. As if one could master an advanced technique simply by reading a scroll.
Mufasa welcomed Danzo's attempts to steal technology.
He wanted him to try.
Let Konoha take the refinery blueprints—what would they do with them? Build an oil refinery? Where would they even get the oil?
Even if they dug through every inch of Konoha's land, would they find a single drop? Unlikely.
Even if they somehow found an alternative energy source, could they sustain industrial production?
Some machinery required 24-hour operation. Could Konoha's shinobi maintain such a grueling pace?
Sand Village was already leagues ahead. It had moved beyond merely exporting goods; it was exporting technology, standards, raw materials, and expertise.
If Konoha tried to industrialize, they would soon realize a painful truth—everything they needed still came from the Hidden Sand.
Mufasa could cut off oil, halt equipment shipments, and withhold technical expertise. Konoha would be left floundering, factories rendered useless.
So, Mufasa was more than happy to let Danzo play his little game.
He silently cheered for Danzo.
"Go on, Danzo. Work hard. Ganbare, ganbare. Kekekeke..."
"I'm counting on you."
"You can do it."
Meanwhile, in Konoha, Danzo sneezed multiple times. He frowned, wondering if he was coming down with something.
Thanks to Mufasa's deliberate negligence, Sai successfully escaped into the desert. Nothing stood in his way as he vanished into the horizon.
Satou and Jiro, both clad in their exoskeleton suits, watched helplessly as Sai disappeared into the clouds.
Jiro scowled. "Damn it! I should've brought my sniper rifle. I could've shot him down."
Satou shook his head. "Walking around the village with a sniper rifle? That would've been a violation of security laws."
The two had no choice but to return empty-handed. Yet, strangely, their superiors neither punished nor rewarded them. The entire incident was quietly buried, leaving behind nothing but a brief note in the team log.
Mufasa stood atop a floating platform with Yamato, Kakashi, and Naruto, overlooking the Hidden Sand Village and its industrial park. The view was breathtaking.
Yamato had worked tirelessly to transform the village. The once-barren desert was now flourishing. Greenery lined the streets, groundwater lakes shimmered in the sunlight, and parks were filled with trees. These became the favorite gathering places for villagers, where families spent their evenings relaxing and enjoying barbecues.
Mufasa turned to Yamato. "Your contributions to the Sand Village are invaluable."
Yamato smiled. "I'm just happy I could help."
From the sky, the transformation was even more striking. Even Naruto, who was usually restless, remained quiet, taking in the sight.
Mufasa addressed the group. "Ninjutsu isn't just for killing or war. It has the power to shape the world, to serve people, and to preserve peace."
The words struck a chord with everyone.
Kurotsuchi thought of her home in Iwagakure, surrounded by rocky mountains. The Hidden Sand was evolving—shouldn't her village evolve, too? She wanted to bring these ideas and advancements back to Iwa.
Kakashi, ever observant, asked, "Mufasa, is this all for peace?"
Mufasa's expression grew serious. "Of course. But my vision of peace is different."
He folded his arms. "I don't believe in fragile peace—the kind where small, isolated nations remain untouched simply because no one cares about them. Nor do I believe in the so-called peace where people are expected to forgive and forget even after suffering great loss."
His gaze hardened. "True peace is found in progress. A balance between ordinary citizens and shinobi. A world where everyone moves forward together."
He turned back toward the village. "That's the peace I strive for."
The words lingered in the air, leaving everyone deep in thought.
Kakashi exhaled. "Then I guess we have our work cut out for us when we return to Konoha."
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Word count: 1691
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