Anime Girls are Moist

Chapter 1116 1,115: Purge the Scoundrel and Tsunade's Deal

Three days later, in the Hokage's office—

The afternoon sunlight was a little blinding.

It slanted in through the window, cutting across the room and lighting up the small mountain of paperwork on the desk until it gleamed. Dust drifted lazily in the beam, turning slow circles.

Tsunade sat in that wide chair—the one that belonged to the Hokage.

Her back sank into the cushion, but she still wasn't fully relaxed.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Her fingers knocked against the solid wooden armrest without thinking, producing a dull, monotonous rhythm.

As if she were counting some invisible measure of time.

Finally… it's stable.

The thought flickered through her mind.

Sarutobi Hiruzen. Shimura Danzō.

Those two old men, and the tangled web of influence they'd cultivated—this time, they'd been ripped out by the roots.

And the rotten upper ranks that clung to them like parasites, sucking Konoha dry—none of them had escaped either.

Konoha was hers now.

Completely.

Cleaner, too… and emptier.

By all logic she should've been able to breathe easy, but something was still hanging in her chest—neither up nor down, just irritating.

That idiot Jiraiya had been so shaken by the old man's death that he'd looked like he'd lost his soul. He didn't even say goodbye—just left the village.

Something about going to find the "real answer."

But compared to that unreliable fool, the person who truly kept Tsunade on edge was someone else.

Rei Ao.

Three days ago, that guy had clearly said, "I'll come find you."

And now?

Three whole days, and not even a shadow of him.

It was like he'd evaporated—no, even worse than that. Like he'd never existed at all.

"Don't tell me he played me…"

Tsunade muttered under her breath.

Her pretty brows drew into a hard knot as irritation flared up.

And then, without warning, her mind went ding.

Crisp.

Jarringly crisp.

It hadn't come through her ears—it detonated directly inside her consciousness, forceful and intrusive, like a pop-up ad shoved into her brain.

Immediately after, several lines of faintly glowing text appeared in the empty air "in front" of her.

[Welcome to the Trading Chat Group.]

Tsunade stiffened.

…What the hell?

A chat group? Genjutsu? Some new Yamanaka mind technique?

No.

This feeling… it was too clear. Overly clear.

Not chakra fluctuations. Not that sticky, slimy sensation of mental interference.

This was cold. Ordered. Possessing a "texture" she couldn't understand at all.

Before she could sort it out, a voice she knew all too well—one that made her grind her teeth—rang directly inside her head.

Rei Ao.

Same lazy drawl, like he'd just woken up, but with a certainty that didn't allow doubt.

"Want to revive your little brother?"

Just that.

Blunt. Brutal.

Like an ice-cold awl driven straight into the softest, most untouchable place in her heart.

Tsunade's breath caught.

"If you do, start the trade."

And then the voice vanished, leaving behind a chilling aftertaste.

"—Hey!"

Tsunade shot up from her chair so fast it kicked up a gust of air. Her sharp gaze swept the office like a blade, corner to corner.

Empty.

Only paperwork, sunlight, drifting dust—

And the sound of her own heartbeat suddenly too loud.

Damn it… where is he? What kind of technique is this?

She closed her eyes, dragged in a hard breath, and let it out slowly.

Her chest rose and fell a few times as she forced her emotions—almost ready to explode—back down.

Calm down, Tsunade.

His methods had already gone far beyond "common sense."

Obsessing over how he'd transmitted his voice was pointless.

What mattered was what he'd said.

Revive… Nawaki.

The moment the thought surfaced, it was like a spark dropped into dry hay—whoom, igniting into an inferno.

In an instant it burned away hesitation, suspicion, and the rational calculations a Hokage was supposed to make.

Her brother.

Her only little brother.

That boy who'd smiled at her and called her "Sis," and never made it home again.

Without realizing it, her nails were already digging deep into her palm. The small, sharp pain helped her hold onto the last thread of clarity.

This was a trade.

Bare, merciless—possibly even malicious.

But did she have a choice?

For Nawaki…

Tsunade opened her eyes again. All the tangled emotions in those beautiful eyes were pressed down until only one thing remained:

A do-or-die resolve.

In her mind, to the empty air, she silently spoke two words.

"…I accept."

Her voice came out painfully dry, like sandpaper grinding hard against rough wood.

[Ding! Trade Confirmed! Trade Initiated!]

The air in front of her suddenly began to warp and shimmer—like asphalt on a scorching day.

Ripples spread outward, visible to the naked eye, like water waves.

At the center of those ripples, light was ripped apart and rearranged.

A door slowly formed.

It was made purely of flowing light and shadow, its edges blurred and unstable.

Behind it was a depthless darkness that made her scalp prickle—nothing could be seen, as if even her gaze would be swallowed.

Rei Ao's voice came again.

This time, beneath the lazy tone, there was a clear thread of amusement.

"Come in, Hokage-sama."

Tsunade lowered her head and looked at the brand-new robe she was wearing, embroidered with the words "Fifth Hokage."

She reached up and smoothed a tiny wrinkle out of the fabric, slow and heavy, as if drawing strength from this symbol of authority—something to brace herself against the unknown.

Then she lifted her foot and stepped forward.

No hesitation.

She crossed the threshold into that strange, dazzling door.

A brief sensation of weightlessness hit.

All around her, light and shadow streamed at high speed in colors she couldn't even identify—like falling into a tunnel with no end.

Time blurred. It might've been an instant, or it might've been a long while.

Then, in the next moment, her feet met something solid and perfectly smooth.

The rushing light dispersed.

She found herself standing in a… room.

A room so enormous it was absurd—so luxurious she momentarily ran out of words.

The floor was glossy like a mirror, clearly reflecting her tense silhouette and the ceiling's intricate, bizarre glowing structures.

All around were furnishings and decorations she'd never seen before—sleek lines, strange materials, glowing with soft light or a cold sheen.

But none of it held her attention for more than a second.

Her gaze snapped forward as if chained there, locked onto the center of the room.

Two people were standing there.

Rei Ao.

And… a bullied-looking young girl.