Chapter 424: Black Zetsu and Indra

Only if Ninshū continued to expand and Chakra continued to spread would the number of living people possessing Chakra grow larger. And the greater that population became, the more abundant—and stable—the supply of “soul energy” his future “world of the dead” would be able to receive.

The struggle over the successor?

It was nothing more than a necessary means of keeping Ninshū running smoothly and motivating everyone to expand outward.

The Heavenly Curtain split into two scenes.

One followed Asura.

He soon arrived at the designated village.

But the sight before him was even worse than he had imagined.

The village was in ruins. Houses were collapsing, the fields were cracked by drought, and the water sources had long since dried up.

The surviving villagers were all gaunt and sallow, their eyes hollow and filled with the lifeless despair of people merely struggling on as they waited for the end to come.

Standing at the entrance to the village, Asura took in the scene without showing the slightest trace of hesitation or disdain.

He took a deep breath, and a determined light ignited in his eyes.

Rather than using some powerful Ninjutsu to forcibly reshape the land, he chose the simplest—and most difficult—path.

He walked straight into the village and went from door to door, speaking with every villager in a gentle yet resolute voice.

He listened to their hardships, shared the teachings of Ninshū, and described the possibility of rebuilding their home.

His sincere attitude and genuine concern were like sweet rain after a long drought, gradually nourishing the villagers’ parched hearts.

Little by little, a faint spark called hope rekindled in those lifeless eyes.

Then, he led by example.

He removed his fine robes, rolled up his sleeves, and joined the villagers in digging wells wherever underground water was most likely to be found.

He led the able-bodied villagers in surveying the terrain and planning routes for irrigation canals.

He organized the elderly and infirm to repair the most dilapidated houses and clear the village roads.

He did not use his immense Chakra to show off. Instead, it became greater endurance, sharper perception, and occasional assistance when it was needed most.

Because of his arrival and leadership, the entire village was awakened from its deathly silence and burst into activity!

Everywhere, people worked with purpose and hope. The sounds of hammering, shouted work chants, and laughter replaced the despairing sighs of before.

Asura’s face was covered in dust and sweat, but his smile was brighter than ever.

Through his actions, he was putting into practice the ideal of using Chakra to connect people’s hearts and help one another build a better future.

Meanwhile, the other half of the Heavenly Curtain followed Indra, who had set out alone.

By himself, he strode along a wilderness path toward his destination, his steps proud yet steady.

Unlike Asura, who immersed himself among the people, Indra kept his Chakra restrained but vigilant at all times, like a drawn blade ready to respond to any sudden danger.

He believed his strength was sufficient to overcome any difficulty. As for this so-called task of “helping the villagers,” he perhaps already had a perfect solution in mind—one based on efficiency and the application of Ninjutsu.

As he entered the depths of a dark, dense forest, silence surrounded him, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Suddenly, Indra stopped without warning!

The restrained aura around him instantly sharpened. An invisible pressure spread outward from his body, and for a moment, even the air around him seemed to freeze!

Slowly, he turned his head. The Rinnegan he had inherited from his father gleamed with cold, piercing light, like a hawk fixing its gaze upon hidden prey as his eyes bored straight into the darkest shadows of the forest.

His cold shout shattered the forest’s silence and tore apart the calm facade concealing the undercurrent beneath it.

“Is that you?”

His voice was not loud, yet it carried a penetrating force—and a hint of coldness, as though he had expected this all along.

“Black Zetsu…”

“Come out.”

Deep within the forest, the light was dim, and shadows danced beneath the trees.

Before the echoes of Indra’s shout had fully faded, the patch of darkness he was watching began to writhe and gather unnaturally.

“Indra, you’re still… as perceptive as ever.”

Black Zetsu’s distinctive voice rang out, carrying its familiar cold, viscous quality. His form seemed to separate itself from a pool of ink as he slowly “emerged” from the shadows of the trees, nearly blending into the darkness around him. Only those pupil-less eyes glimmered with a faint, eerie light.

Only Black Zetsu himself knew how insincere that praise was.

It was not that Indra’s senses were truly extraordinary enough to perfectly detect the concealment of a ghost that had lurked in the shadows for a thousand years.

Black Zetsu had merely… deliberately leaked a trace of his presence for Indra to notice.

This was a carefully orchestrated “chance encounter.”

“Did you need something from me?” Indra asked, his voice as cold as ever, carrying his customary aloofness and pride.

Black Zetsu’s sudden appearance did not surprise or unsettle him in the slightest. His tone was as calm as though he were speaking to a visitor who was neither particularly familiar nor entirely unknown.

Clearly, during the genius of Ninshū’s travels and private investigations, he had encountered this mysterious “shadow,” which seemed to possess knowledge of many ancient secrets, on several occasions. They might even have engaged in some form of transaction or exchange of information.

Black Zetsu did not answer immediately. His intangible “gaze” seemed to carefully examine Indra.

The robes that emphasized his strength. His proud, cold profile. And especially those eyes, inherited from his father, yet sharper and more arrogant than his father’s own.

Black Zetsu let out a soft sigh.

The sigh sounded particularly abrupt amid the forest, carrying a peculiar sense of regret.

Then his tone suddenly shifted, and he posed a question that struck directly at the most sensitive place in Indra’s heart.

“Indra… do you think your father truly intends to choose you as Ninshū’s successor?”

The question was like a stone dropped into a still lake.

Almost instinctively, Indra raised his chin proudly, the line of his neck straightening.

The unquestionable confidence of a genius blazed fiercely in his eyes, as though the question itself were an insult.

“Of course.”

Indra’s answer was resolute, carrying the certainty of someone proclaiming an undeniable truth.

“Whether it is strength, intelligence, or my understanding of the nature of Chakra and Ninjutsu—not to mention my talent for innovation… Asura is not even remotely comparable to me!”

“Look across all of Ninshū—past, present, or future. Other than me, who else could possibly be qualified to inherit Ninshū and carry on Father’s great work?”

His words were filled with absolute confidence in his own worth, as well as undisguised contempt for what he regarded as his younger brother Asura’s “mediocre” abilities.

In Indra’s eyes, the question of who should become the successor was never something worth debating. The answer was obvious.

“Yes…” Black Zetsu nodded in complete “agreement.”

His twisted form swayed slightly. The approval in his voice sounded utterly sincere, even carrying a trace of apparent empathy.