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Kakuzu glared at Gojo Kaigetsu and Orochimaru, his resolve firm. He wouldn't give them anything. A Shinobi had his principles. He wouldn't cooperate with those who'd—defeated him.
"The 'Earth Grudge Fear'. Tell us its secrets, and then—participate in our research, Kakuzu," Gojo Kaigetsu said, his tone casual, yet menacing.
"You think—I'd help you?"
"We'll pay you."
"It's not about the money."
"I can—arrange for you to manage some of Konoha's—key industries. The profits—yours to keep. Invest them, hoard them—whatever your—financial Shinobi way dictates. You're familiar with Konoha's economic strength, aren't you?"
Kakuzu's eyes widened. "Are you—serious?"
"Absolutely."
"The Earth Grudge Fear's hand seals are…"
…
…
Konoha Hospital.
The hospital was unusually busy. The Hokage's crackdown on criminal organizations and underground exchanges had—inspired many Shinobi to—overestimate their abilities.
They'd destroyed the hideouts, yes, but at a cost. Missing limbs, bodies battered, they were being carried in on stretchers.
It was unclear if the medical fees would even cover the hospital's expenses.
Hitomi, one of the injured Chunin, felt a chill in his heart.
He was just an ordinary Shinobi, his income—modest. Like most middle-aged Chunin, his earnings were mostly spent on—well, let's just say he enjoyed the finer things in life. His savings were—limited.
Though medical costs had decreased, his injuries were severe. The bill would be—substantial.
Tears welled up in his eyes. This was the Shinobi life — high risk, high reward.
He'd ignored the mission's warning: 'Experienced Chunin teams recommended.' He'd thought he could handle it alone.
He hadn't expected the enemy to have—Explosive Tags. Though he'd completed the mission, he'd lost an arm and a leg in the process.
If he'd died, at least his family would have received a—generous compensation.
But he'd lived. And now, the medical bills would likely—ruin them. Even if he recovered, his career as a Shinobi was over. He'd be lucky to find D-rank missions.
He remembered the story, "A Bowl of Plain Ichiraku Ramen," from Three Years at the Ninja Academy.
He'd likely be—relying on their charity soon.
"I—I don't want treatment anymore. Let me—go," he moaned, his voice strained with pain.
A life of D-rank missions after this—he'd rather be—incapacitated, save the money for his son's education, let him have a chance at a better life, a chance to—carry on his legacy.
"What are you saying, Hitomi?! Without treatment, you're finished! Your wife will leave you! Your children will have a—stepfather!"
…
…
He soon arrived at Konoha Hospital.
The waiting room was filled with similarly injured Shinobi, victims of their own—overconfidence.
The nurses at the triage desk were overwhelmed. "What do we do? So many—severe injuries. We don't have enough medical-nin. Every department is overloaded."
"Get Tsunade-sama!"
"We've already sent for her."
In a corner, a Shinobi, bleeding profusely, was fading fast.
Just then, Gojo Kaigetsu arrived, accompanied by a masked figure in a strange uniform.
"Advisor Gojo? Where's Tsunade-sama? If she doesn't arrive soon…"
"This—is a top-tier Uzumaki medical specialist," Gojo Kaigetsu said, his tone serious. "Prepare an operating room. Now."
"Understood! Make way! Advisor Gojo has brought a medical-nin!" The nurses cleared a path.
Kakuzu, now an Edo Tensei—Medic, looked around the hospital, the smell of disinfectant stinging his nose.
He'd spent his life killing. And now—he was being forced to—heal.
What a—twist!!
"Hey!" he hissed at Gojo Kaigetsu. "You promised me—management of Konoha's key industries! And—I'm an Uzumaki now? What's the meaning of this?!"
"Do you intend to go back on your word?! I'll—destroy this place!"
Despite being under the Edo Tensei's control, Kakuzu's—personality hadn't changed. He still valued money above all else.
"What do you mean, 'not a key industry?'" Gojo Kaigetsu asked, his voice calm. "Don't you know Konoha Hospital is a—profit center?"
"A Hospital? Profit?"
Kakuzu stared at him, his eyes filled with disbelief.
Though neither Takigakure nor Amegakure had hospitals, he still understood—the basics.
Hospitals were a drain on resources, not a source of income.
"Let's see—a typical surgical procedure costs between 200,000 and 1 million ryō, depending on the severity," Gojo Kaigetsu explained.
200,000 for minor injuries, 1 million for—Limb Reattachment.
"That includes pain medication, blood clotting agents, the medical-nin's fee. For extreme cases, we even have genjutsu specialists to—manage the pain. And for optimal healing, we offer high-quality chakra-infused sutures. Do you consider that—expensive?"
"It's—reasonable," Kakuzu admitted.
Konoha Hospital's prices were below average, even—generous. In some villages, the cost was double, even triple.
In most villages, such services were reserved for the wealthy, not ordinary Shinobi.
Konoha Hospital, offering surgery starting at 200,000 ryō, was practically a charity.
And even after surgery, a Ninja's strength would be permanently diminished. Many simply—gave up, choosing to live as—incapacitated veterans.
"So, Kakuzu, with your—expertise in the Earth Grudge Fear, how long would it take you to—reattach a limb?"
Kakuzu was silent. His heart began to race.
He hadn't considered this before. Using the Earth Grudge Fear for surgery—it could be—lucrative!
After all, the Earth Grudge Fear was essentially—a highly precise chakra thread manipulation technique.
Though not exactly—aesthetically pleasing, its precision and efficiency were unmatched. And the chakra cost? A few Soldier Pills would replenish that.
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