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Chapter 16 — The Hero Water
[Wait.]
Alex's voice flickered across the page just as Konan prepared to fly off.
[I'm curious about the origin of that forbidden jutsu—Jiongu. Konan, could you ask Takigakure's leader about it?]
Konan nodded silently and turned back toward the building, her paper wings folding away as she entered through the window.
Alex retreated to his usual hiding spot—nestled quietly against her chest—erasing any trace of his presence.
Until he had gathered enough power, he preferred not to reveal himself unnecessarily.
Inside, the two paper-wrapped figures stood rigid like lifeless mummies.
Konan approached them, her expression blank. With a subtle motion of her hand, the paper around their faces peeled away layer by layer—revealing the terrified faces of the Takigakure chief and his jonin aide.
"Akatsuki… White Tiger!" the old man gasped.
Every village had intelligence on Akatsuki's members by now. As the only woman in the organization—and the sole master of Paper Release—Konan was instantly recognizable.
The jonin beside him was drenched in cold sweat, straining futilely against his bindings.
The paper looked delicate, but its strength was that of tempered steel—unyielding.
After exhausting himself, the jonin slumped in defeat, fear replacing his anger.
"You Akatsuki scum!" he shouted, voice trembling despite his effort to sound bold. "Wasn't stealing our Seven-Tails enough? Do you plan to destroy our village too?"
His bravado didn't last. Konan's silent, icy stare made him avert his gaze. The oppressive weight of her chakra pressed upon him like a mountain.
'Tch… small-village shinobi, all nerves and no spine,' Alex thought dryly from within.
'Already a jonin and still shaking like a leaf. No wonder this place is falling apart.'
Konan raised a hand—one sheet of paper sealed the jonin's mouth shut.
She didn't need his noise.
"Talk," she said coldly. "Tell me the origin of the Jiongu technique."
To Alex, her tone carried the sharp edge of authority—cool, commanding, effortlessly dominant.
The elder swallowed hard. "I… I'll tell you everything I know. Please, just don't harm the village."
Konan's silence was colder than words. Her gaze alone said you are in no position to bargain.
The old man understood. Trembling slightly, he began to speak.
"I don't know much—only what was passed down from the elders before me. The Jiongu technique predates even our village's founding."
He took a shaky breath. "One of the founding clans brought it to Takigakure. They wished to study it collectively, to unlock its power for the good of the village."
"Take me to that clan," Konan interrupted.
The old man gave a bitter, almost helpless smile. "That clan… no longer exists. Every bloodline member perished long ago."
Konan's expression didn't change. She didn't need to ask how—they had likely been erased in some petty internal struggle.
'A tiny village full of petty politics,' Alex scoffed inwardly. 'Small pond, too many frogs.'
"Continue," Konan ordered.
"The only thing I know," the old chief said quickly, "is that this clan discovered the technique after finding a strange, black hair—like a thread. The Jiongu was born from studying that thing."
"Black hair?" Konan frowned. The thought of Kakuzu's black tendrils flashed through her mind.
"Yes," he confirmed. "The clan believed it was a divine relic—a strand fallen from a god's body."
He hesitated, then added softly, "To be honest… I think they may have been right. In the age of legends, it was said there were eight million gods in the world."
'Eight million gods?' Alex thought with a snort. 'More like eight million self-proclaimed "immortals." Probably a bunch of overgrown beasts like the ones in Mount Myōboku and Ryūchi Cave, calling themselves gods because no one stronger was around.'
He almost laughed aloud. And then Kaguya wiped them all out. The few that survived must have gone into hiding.
As for Jiongu—he suspected that clan had found a piece of some "divine creature" and, through mad experimentation, created that grotesque technique from its tissue.
Satisfied, Alex signaled to Konan.
They had learned what they needed. There was no point interrogating further.
Konan turned to leave.
"Wait—please, don't—!" the old man cried, but his voice was cut short as paper once again wrapped around his face.
Konan ignored him, stepping onto the windowsill. The two bound shinobi remained upright and silent, their muffled words lost beneath the rustling of paper.
She and Alex slipped out into the night. The paper bindings would dissolve after they left.
---
Behind Takigakure, several guards stood watch over a cavern entrance.
They never saw her coming. With a faint motion of her hand, Konan struck them down silently—three chunin and a single jonin collapsing like felled trees.
She landed softly and entered the cave.
Alex emerged from her chest once more, his eyes sweeping across the cavern.
It was massive—at least the size of a football field, the ceiling five stories high.
And across the chamber's upper span stretched a colossal tree root—thick as a house, its bark gnarled and ancient. It pierced the ceiling above and slanted down toward the far end of the cave, where it touched the ground beside a small, emerald-green pool.
Drip…
A single drop of glowing green liquid fell from the root's tip, rippling across the surface.
[That must be it—the Hero Water.]
Konan approached, crouching beside the pool. The liquid shimmered faintly, like light caught in glass.
Alex hovered above it, his senses spreading outward.
He could feel the power inside—an energy that seemed calm and natural on the surface, yet wild and unstable beneath. A paradox of serenity and chaos.
After a moment of analysis, realization dawned on him.
'Hero Water, huh?' he mused. 'More like liquefied natural energy.'