"Did you get the enhancer formulas from Orochimaru?"
Kiyohara asked.
If there were enhancers, that really could boost his strength fast.
The Akimichi clan are the masters here—though they don't call them "forbidden drugs," but legally made secret medicines. For example, the Three Colored Pills: the green pill boosts physical strength by a third; the yellow pill fully unleashes the user's potential; and the red pill is said to trigger a hundredfold surge.
Kiyohara figured that was hype—if it were that outrageous, the Akimichi would've been the number-one clan in the shinobi world ages ago. Still, the name alone spoke to how remarkable their family formulas were.
He was curious what kind of effect the enhancers Rogue Kiyohara knew about would have.
"I got a few," Rogue Kiyohara said. "But most are hard on the body."
He sounded rueful when he said it. The power they granted could exceed a typical jōnin's, but you'd need lifelong meds to suppress the side effects. He'd stepped on that exploding-tag trap because he'd had a flare-up at the time.
"Then tell me the ones without side effects."
"Strictly speaking, every 'secret medicine' has a cost—the difference is whether it's permanent or temporary, and whether you can recover."
"Spell it out."
Rogue Kiyohara shot Kiyohara a glance—no surprise his past self didn't flinch at these methods. Proper shinobi gain strength through grinding training—"walking the shinobi path," and all that. But Kiyohara was shipping out to Kannabi Bridge in three days; cramming wouldn't save him now. If you want a shortcut, you use unconventional means.
"Go take out a loan. Now."
"A loan? For what?"
Kiyohara blinked. Maybe those meds were expensive.
"You don't even know if you'll live. Why sit on cash? Turn it into things that keep you alive."
Rogue Kiyohara shook his head, a bit exasperated.
He'd learned that the hard way. He'd defected in a rush; Orochimaru hadn't given him time to prep. By the time he looked back, he'd already slipped out of Konoha—and everything he owned got legally confiscated.
"Ninja can't borrow much, right?"
Kiyohara had never tried. Ninja is a high-mortality profession; forget loans—no insurer would touch you.
Konoha had refrigerators, TVs, power lines and all sorts of tech—pretty modern—but people's mindsets were still conservative. He'd even thought about borrowing money from every Uchiha a few days before the massacre; once the clan "auto-closed" its accounts, the debt would… take care of itself. He trusted Itachi's "business ability"—he'd surely leave only his little brother Sasuke.
"Borrow whatever they'll give," Rogue Kiyohara said. If you're headed to the front, why not max out every line of credit?
"It's a sure thing: if you die, the debt dies with you; if you live, run more missions and you'll make it back."
Kiyohara thought about it. Annoyingly, that did make sense.
It was going all-in, though—and not many people pick the right spot. You never really know a mission's true difficulty; you can only guess from the rank. A C-rank can turn into a B-rank out of nowhere; an A-rank might drop to C-rank if the enemy slips up.
Take Kannabi Bridge—everyone thought with Minato there it was a lock. And Minato did complete the objective. But who knew who'd be the price paid?
No matter how strong Minato was, he couldn't protect everyone. Most folks don't think they're the ones who'll die, so almost no ninja take out loans. Only someone with foreknowledge could exploit the information gap like this.
Kiyohara hesitated a moment, then tore the place apart gathering anything of value to pawn. Using those as collateral, he borrowed 650,000 ryō. No one would go higher, and no-collateral loans were a nonstarter. He'd gotten that much only because he still had decent credit in the village—and luck. In their eyes, a lowly genin had a high KIA rate. Add his savings and he had 700,000 ryō—no small sum.
Then, following Rogue Kiyohara's guidance, he immediately went to buy herbs and equipment.
In Konoha, the Nara and Akimichi clans were deeply entrenched in the herb trade—frankly, they monopolized a lot of it. The Nara owned vast forests and raised wise deer; antlers were valuable medicine. The Akimichi excelled at formulas; even Tsunade had borrowed their recipe books in the original canon—proof of their worth. And with the Ino–Shika–Cho alliance, the Nara and Akimichi were a powerhouse pair.
"Yikes. These herbs are pricey."
Half his fresh loan vanished before it even warmed his pocket.
"They're expensive for a reason. These enhancers minimize side effects. If you dose correctly, you'll at most have occasional headaches for three months—after that, nothing."
Rogue Kiyohara said.
He'd only gotten these after sticking with Orochimaru for a long time—that guy had finally tossed him a few good scraps. Orochimaru's eyes were fixed on Sasuke, though. The silver lining for Rogue Kiyohara was that he didn't have to worry about Orochimaru stabbing him in the back. He'd rather a cold kunai in the ribs than Orochimaru's soul in his body.
"Three months? I can live with that."
Kiyohara was pleased. Don't call this a forbidden drug—this was a miracle pill.
"What's a brat like you doing with that many herbs?"
At the voice, Kiyohara turned—and two shadowy "clouds" loomed into his field of view, their curves… very full. He eyeballed them: sizable. Add the purple diamond on the woman's forehead and the blond hair, and her identity was obvious.
"Tsunade-sama."
He bowed.
Tsunade was back in Konoha. With the village at life-or-death stakes, she wasn't going to sit it out. On the eve of the Third War, she'd even treated Minato when he collapsed at Training Ground Three. She hadn't stayed away the whole time after Dan's death—this is recorded in the official "Minato Side Story" manga.
"I'm buying these to make a family secret medicine," Kiyohara said.
He didn't trot out a story about sick relatives or friends. Tsunade wouldn't buy it. Ninja also don't pry too hard into each other's business.
Sure enough, Tsunade didn't press. Instead, curiosity flickered and she asked something else:
"Kid, I just saw you taking out a loan. How'd you get it approved?"
Her tone was a touch urgent.
She'd lost some money again—and needed seed capital for a comeback.