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Chaos erupted in the room.
Han had actually been found—barely hanging on to life. A heavy silence fell over the entire council room. Moments later, it erupted into chaos.
Council members shouted over each other, accusations flying in every direction.
One member cried, "We lost to Konoha! It seems Minato Namikaze found out about our plan!"
Another added, "It also looks like he's being protected by an elite, highly-trained Konoha squad!"
A third exclaimed, "That must be how he used some deadly jutsu to eliminate them all!"
"Silence!" the Tsuchikage barked, and the room instantly went quiet.
After a few tense moments, the Tsuchikage sighed and raised a hand, signaling one of his ANBU. This ANBU had, through covert means, managed to steal a few of the Yamanaka Clan's mental interrogation techniques.
"All right," the Tsuchikage said. "Get us the information."
The ANBU nodded and left for the hospital. Han was still unconscious, which likely meant his tailed beast was currently focused on healing him. That gave them time—time to extract memories and data before the Jinchūriki woke up and regained control.
The operative entered Han's room and began the jutsu, probing gently into his damaged mind to uncover the truth of what had happened. He completed the mental dive and returned swiftly to the council chamber.
"Lord Tsuchikage," the ANBU said, kneeling. "With your permission?"
The Tsuchikage nodded once.
The ANBU formed a rapid series of hand signs and slammed his hands together. A chakra screen shimmered into view in the center of the room. All the council members leaned in, watching as a vivid memory projection began to play—the last moments of the battle.
What they saw left them speechless.
The enemy—Naruto Uzumaki—was moving like an elite S-rank, perhaps even SS-rank shinobi. And yet… he was just a boy. A teenager. No more than a genin by age.
Their own highly trained shinobi attacked him in waves, but Naruto weaved through them effortlessly. To him, they looked like toddlers stumbling toward a seasoned predator. His eyes were bored, cold—detached.
Then, he began to gather chakra. The ground trembled under the sheer pressure. Veterans among the council shivered—recognizing that force. It was not normal chakra. It was monstrous. Controlled. Refined.
And then came the horror.
Through Han's point of view, they witnessed Naruto's onslaught. Every blow shattered bones, ruptured organs. The Three-Tails' chakra surged—and was instantly overpowered. Han's beast-form vanished beneath Naruto's merciless counterattack. In one move, Naruto appeared in front of Han, hurled him clear of the blast radius, and slammed him down with terrifying precision.
Then… nothing. Han was unconscious.
The memory ended.
The council room was silent again.
No one spoke.
And then the chaos returned.
"That kid must have used some kind of forbidden technique or something!" one member shouted.
"Lord Tsuchikage, we have to act!" another exclaimed. "He's only eight years old, and look what he's done! He's wiped out our ambush squad, overpowered our elite forces, and defeated our Jinchūriki like it was nothing! We can't ignore this."
The council chamber filled with overlapping voices, everyone shouting different suggestions at once. Lord Ōnoki (the Tsuchikage) had had enough. He looked around the room. A part of him, though he wouldn't admit it, was genuinely afraid.
The kid had power—unbelievable power.
In all his years, Ōnoki had only ever felt fear like this once—when he stood before Madara Uchiha and realized the sheer weight of what that man could do. And now, this boy… that same sensation was crawling up his spine. The bored, indifferent look in Naruto's eyes during the recording haunted him. Deep inside, he knew: the boy could have done much worse if he wanted to.
Especially that energy beam attack—it had carved a crater nearly the size of Iwa itself. It wasn't just destructive—it was calculated, refined. It reminded him of a Bijūdama, but far more concentrated… and far more dangerous.
He gulped slightly but steeled himself. He couldn't show weakness in front of his people.
"I see," Ōnoki finally said. He looked around the council. "Put him in the Bingo Book."
"With what classification?" a member asked.
"He's obviously an S-rank shinobi!" another blurted out.
Ōnoki slammed his hand on the table. "I know that! But we can't officially declare an eight-year-old as S-rank. What do you think other nations, our clients, or even the Daimyōs will say? That we're afraid of a child?"
Another member stood. "But if we downplay it too much, Lord Tsuchikage, our shinobi might get cocky. If we classify him as a B or even C-rank and they engage him… they'll die. All of them. Without even scratching him."
Ōnoki sighed deeply. This was a tight spot. "Fine. But I'm not marking him as S-rank—not yet. I'll have him listed as an A+-rank, or perhaps High A++-rank shinobi. That should keep the fools from throwing their lives away."
Most of the room nodded reluctantly in agreement.
It was a shame. An eight-year-old had single-handedly wiped out their best Anbu operatives and defeated one of their Jinchūriki with ease. From Han's perspective, it hadn't even been a battle—it had been a slaughter. Blow after blow, bone after bone broken. His own power, the strength of the Three-Tails, had felt like a raindrop falling into the ocean of that boy's overwhelming chakra.
Ōnoki rubbed his forehead and sighed again.
It looked like he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.