Kanjuro sat in the daimyo's residence, surrounded by ledgers and scrolls. With Oden gone, the responsibility of managing Kuri's finances fell on his shoulders giving him considerable power.
Once again, Orochi had borrowed money from Kuri, citing the same excuse; as the newly appointed shogun, his revenues were unstable and he could not manage the country's finances properly.
Kanjuro had little choice. As Oden's retainer, it would reflect poorly on Oden's honor if he refused. Rumors would spread quickly in Wano. And so, while Orochi asked for a 'reasonable' sum, Kanjuro always doubled the amount before sending it off quietly bleeding Kuri's treasury.
Now, in Oden's absence, only a handful of retainers oversaw Kuri. The others neither touched the finances nor knew how the money flowed. Kanjuro alone could hide the discrepancies.
A sudden creak broke the silence. The window slid open on its own, letting in a sharp breeze that scattered papers across the floor.
Kanjuro rose to close it then froze. His hand stopped midair. Wedged in the frame was a folded letter, his name written boldly across it; 'Kurozumi Kanjuro.'
His heart lurched. Impossible. No one here knows that name.
Suspicion raced through his mind. Orochi? No, Orochi used secret channels, he would never expose him like this. Kin'emon and the others? Impossible; none had acted strangely.
Aside from Orochi, only a handful of people knew his true identity.
He slipped the letter into his robes and shut the window with care. Only after glancing outside did he sit again, unfolding the letter with trembling fingers.
From the shadows, Ashura Doji's sharp eyes followed his every move. Ever since Teach had whispered his suspicions, Ashura had been watching. Kanjuro had always seemed reliable, though weak, Oden had embraced him despite his strange appearance. But now… his cautious movements screamed of secrets.
So Teach was right, Ashura thought grimly.
Meanwhile, Kanjuro read the message. Orochi summoned him to the eastern forest of Kuri, promising something important. The letter was signed with Orochi's name, delivered by a member of the Orochi Oniwabanshu.
Kanjuro's doubts lingered, but he left his chamber quietly.
At the main gate, Kin'emon waved cheerfully. "Yo, Kanjuro! Going for a stroll?"
Kanjuro, tall and awkward with his brush-shaped hair and kabuki robes, returned a harmless smile. "Yes. It's been too long since I've seen the Kuri that Lord Oden built."
"Haha! True enough. Maybe I'll go myself tonight." Kin'emon laughed.
Once Kanjuro departed, Ashura Doji clutched his stomach. "Kin'emon, I'm not feeling well. Cover for me."
"Go on, then," Kin'emon replied, still smiling.
But Ashura didn't head inside. He scaled the wall, slipping down the other side, and made for the eastern forest—toward Teach.
In the woods, Kanjuro clutched his weapon, a massive brush-sword forged from fireproof steel, perfectly suited to his art. His sharp eyes swept the trees. Years in a theater troupe had honed his acting; his calm demeanor was part performance, part instinct.
Suddenly, a ninja in black appeared on a branch above. His garb bore the coiled snake emblem of Orochi's Oniwabanshu.
"Lord Kanjuro," the ninja said, producing a small wooden chest. "Lord Orochi sent me to deliver this personally." He cracked the lid open, revealing the swirling pattern of a Devil Fruit.
Kanjuro's eyes widened. A Devil Fruit… Though already a user, he knew its immense value.
"Why give this to me?" he asked cautiously.
"Orochi wishes you to cultivate another loyal pawn, another nail to drive into the Kozuki clan," the ninja replied coolly.
Kanjuro's suspicion eased. He approached slowly. The ninja dropped from the branch, closing the distance.
At two meters apart, the ninja suddenly lunged. His claw shot forward with lethal speed. Kanjuro twisted aside just in time, his robe ripping open where the strike grazed him. Cold sweat trickled down his spine. That blow would have gutted him.
Weapon in hand, he barked, "Who are you? How do you know my identity?"
The ninja chuckled, his voice shifting. "The better question is, how did you know I was a fake?"
Kanjuro's face hardened. "Your aura. It's nothing like a ninja's. One infiltrator in the Kozuki clan is already risky enough. More only invites disaster."
He slashed, his brush-sword coated in Haki. The ninja caught it in one claw, striking at Kanjuro with the other.
It was Teach.
His strength was overwhelming. Kanjuro barely kept his composure, already calculating counterattacks. He sketched with his free hand. "Ink Snake!"
From the brush, a serpent slithered into life, snapping at Teach's head. Teach sneered, springing aside. Ink spattered where the creature struck.
Kanjuro abandoned his brush-sword, conjuring another from ink. His ability was absurdly versatile. The more realistic the drawing, the stronger the creation. He could even draw people he'd seen.
"Ink Crane!" A massive bird materialized. Kanjuro mounted its back, soaring upward.
"Ink Dragon!" A serpentine beast of shadow ink spiraled from his brush, lunging at Teach.
Teach kicked off the air itself, using Moonwalk to close the gap. The dragon's body blocked him, but it was sluggish compared to Teach's speed. With practiced steps, he weaved around it, eyes locked on Kanjuro.
For a time, the battle tilted toward Kanjuro. His flight and summoned creatures made him difficult to pin down. But Teach's power dwarfed his—he only needed the right opening.
"Demon Claw—Rift!"
Ten massive slashes ripped through the air, each over ten meters long. Kanjuro hastily painted shields, raising them in desperation.
"Shield Arts!" Ink walls shimmered into being—then shattered instantly, torn like paper. The slashes carved through his crane mount, splitting it in half. Ink rained down as Kanjuro was caught in the storm of blades.
"AAAHHH!" Blood burst across his body. His robes shredded, skin and muscle torn.
Staggering, Kanjuro fought to stay aloft, conjuring new creations to slow Teach. Each stroke drained his stamina, his defenses crumbling.
Desperate, he angled toward Kuri, the only safe haven. Teach pursued relentlessly, claws gleaming.
Then, through the blur of pain, Kanjuro spotted a figure below. His heart leapt.
"Ashura Doji! Help me! Orochi sent an assassin!"
His voice rang through the night, laced with both terror and cunning.