Rōshi: "…"
"What the hell?"
"What the hell—how did I just whoosh and end up flat on the ground?"
"Did I… lose??"
I mean, nobody actually thought Rōshi was going to win, right? Right? If Yorin hadn't been curious and wanted to check Rōshi's "skill list," the old man would've been dead beyond dead on the spot.
Sure, Rōshi still "died" after the tailed beast was extracted.
But wasn't he brought back afterward with a revival technique?
Honestly, canon was kind of unfair that way. Because Gaara was Naruto's fanboy, he got resurrected. The other jinchūriki didn't get that treatment—die for nothing, then get dragged back as undead and die again. Brutal.
Rōshi: "So what's going on?"
After he got back up, he realized the beast inside him was gone—yet his body had no wounds at all. Completely baffled, he scanned left and right, staying on high alert for ages… and found no enemy. He just ended up looking like an idiot.
"…Fine. Everything has karma. This must be fate's guidance."
Like hell it is.
How could he possibly pretend nothing happened?! He'd taken a humiliating loss and didn't even know who beat him. Even a saint would be furious, let alone some wandering monk.
And the weirdest part?
He couldn't even remember the attacker's face properly. He had seen them—he had felt that shock of "Wait, it's you—what are you doing?!"—but no matter how he tried, the identity wouldn't stick in his mind.
That was the Uchiha ocular trick at work.
In the end, the only clear sentence left in his head was:
"I hate it when people call themselves Son Gokū. The real Son Gokū isn't some clown like you."
And yes—Rōshi's "Son Gokū" was the Four-Tails: a gigantic four-tailed monkey.
So… who in the world would be that hung up on the name, and be strong enough to do this?
"Don't tell me it was the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi? Does he even have that kind of power?"
Rōshi thought hard. If it were Hiruzen in his prime beating him and maybe even killing him, Rōshi could believe it. But "one-shotting" him? No. Absolutely not.
"There has to be another culprit. There has to."
"And if someone can steal tailed beasts and then use them to wreak havoc, my strength alone won't be enough to stop it…"
After a short struggle, he made up his mind.
Screw being a wandering monk—this world was too dangerous. Only a village could offer even a little warmth and safety.
Yorin had no idea about any of this.
He hadn't shown up like he did with Utakata, hadn't talked face-to-face—he'd just hit Rōshi, used a technique to erase the memory cleanly, and left.
Why would Rōshi still return to Iwagakure and try to join the Ninshū?
Yeah. Yorin didn't know. Even if he did, he probably wouldn't care—he'd grumble a couple lines and move on.
It wasn't a bad outcome.
At most, it'd be a little awkward if they ran into each other later in the organization.
And if Yorin's shameless enough, it wouldn't even be awkward.
Compared to that, what he cared about now was the stuff Orochimaru had built.
"Finally… we're done."
So the next stop was Orochimaru's "secret" research base.
It was "secret" in name only. The Ninshū's strength kept growing, so the base kept getting upgraded—again, and again, and again.
Area, staff, scale—this "secret base" was now a sprawling complex covering several square kilometers, with over a dozen different facilities. A massive integrated research hub.
The sky fortress was the biggest symbol of it.
The Sky Ninja had once been proud of it—spent decades trying to restore that war machine.
Now it was revived in months.
More death-row and hardened criminals were shipped in as "fuel" for the Zero-Tail's dark chakra output.
With the restored Zero-Tail acting as the core power source, the enormous flying fortress rose into the sky—so huge it practically blotted out the sun. Everyone who saw it felt the same chill:
"Is this… really power humans can control?"
Then the shock flipped into exhilaration.
Because yes—this was power humans could control.
More precisely: power Uchiha Yorin controlled.
A miracle-engineering project like this crushed enemy morale and boosted friendly morale at the same time. Off the charts.
A lot of researchers were cheering so hard they almost cried when the fortress stabilized.
Yorin: "It's pretty damn good, isn't it?"
He turned to Orochimaru.
Orochimaru nodded. "It is. The Sky Ninja's resources and tech were never on the same level as the Ninshū.
They couldn't finish this in decades. We did it in months.
And it's even better than we expected…"
As he spoke, he handed Yorin two sets of blueprints.
"I rewrote the control program and improved the mechanical transmission system. And I designed two weapons packages to replace the Sky Ninja's old Zero-Tail chakra cannon."
Yorin glanced once and understood immediately.
"Cloud's chakra cannon tech."
"Exactly," Orochimaru said. "The strongest weapon paired with the strongest fortress—maximum synergy. This level of firepower can kill even Kage-class opponents."
Orochimaru's eyes shone with excitement.
Beyond immortality, what he loved most was mastering techniques—learning "arts."
And what was science if not another kind of art?
A sky fortress fitted with chakra cannons—if that wasn't an S-rank "forbidden technique," what was?
Yorin nodded… and then, honestly, he felt he should pour some cold water before Orochimaru used this as an excuse to ask for even more funding.
"You're making great points," Yorin said calmly, "but stop right there.
Because I can already think of two reasons this won't work."
"How could it not?" Orochimaru said, still riding the high. His brain was clearly running slower than usual. "To me, a sky fortress plus chakra cannons is a perfect match."
Yorin didn't bother with gentle hints.
"Reason one: power output. The Zero-Tail has enormous chakra, sure—but based on the reports I saw, keeping the fortress airborne is already close to its limit. Even if there's some spare capacity, it isn't much.
Chakra cannons are extremely energy-hungry. The Zero-Tail likely can't supply both flight and sustained heavy weapon fire."
Orochimaru's excitement cooled a little. "That's… fair. But it's not unsolvable.
If we solve mass-production for the Zero-Tail, we can mount two—three—more power cores per fortress."
Yorin: "In theory. But that introduces a whole stack of technical problems."
Orochimaru: "Then I'll solve them."
Yorin: "Fine. Maybe you can solve that. But reason two is worse—and I don't think you can 'solve' it away."
Orochimaru finally quieted.
Yorin continued, "This fortress is a giant target. Too big. Defense too weak. And flight itself is inherently unstable.
Think about it: if we pour insane resources into building one of these, and it gets shot down, the material loss is catastrophic—and the morale hit is even worse."
"…," Orochimaru went silent.
The first point hadn't fully convinced him. The second one hit like a hammer.
Shinobi warfare was full of glass-cannon tactics—flashy, wide-area, absurdly destructive jutsu everywhere.
If his masterpiece, the ultimate sky fortress, got swatted out of the air by a few coordinated Kage-level techniques…
Orochimaru's skull practically rang.
He had to admit Yorin was right: a "super fortress" could easily become a "super bullseye."
"…So what's your recommendation?" Orochimaru asked, suddenly much more humble.
"Miniaturize," Yorin said. "Strip off the pointless decorative bulk. Replace stone-heavy design with more mechanical engineering.
Build smaller Zero-Tails to power smaller airships—not a single gigantic floating city.
Make a thousand. Ten thousand. More.
Same 'sky darkening' presence, same shock value. Similar total resource cost. But much lower research and production complexity.
And if a few get shot down? You won't feel like your heart got ripped out."
"…That actually makes sense," Orochimaru admitted.
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— This Fanfic is Completed in Patreon!