Chapter 75 Becoming a Hoshikage Before Hokage

A few days later, inside the laboratory, Renjiro held up a vial of violet liquid. Under the lamplight, the potion glowed faintly.

“After countless sleepless nights and thousands of experiments, I’ve finally created a serum that can suppress the damage caused by the Star Training.”

It wasn’t a cure—only a way to suppress the effects. Renjiro had only worked with blood samples from children who had undergone the training. That alone made this achievement impressive. But to completely remove the side effects, he would need the Star itself.

The “Star Training” (Hoshiton Training) was a secret practice in Hoshigakure. There, shinobi meditated near a strange meteorite called the “Star” By absorbing its chakra, they could gain unique powers.

But the Star’s chakra was poisonous. Though it gave great strength and sharper chakra control, it also caused severe illness, and often death for those who trained with it too long.

Renjiro wasn’t a professional scientist. The only reason his work had succeeded was because Arkain guided him through every step. Even so, with his future goals in mind, he had now stepped into the role of a researcher.

Luckily, when he explored Danzo’s old hideout, he had uncovered a wealth of data on human experiments. That knowledge had greatly sped up his sudden “career shift.”

Now, with tangible results in his hands, Renjiro was finally ready to advance to the next phase of his plan.

---

The Capital of the Land of Bears

Although called a “capital,” it was hardly worthy of the title. Compared to the thriving capital of the Land of Fire, it looked small and poor. The streets were quiet, and its people lived in poverty.

The Land of Bears was naturally defended by mountains and ridges, making it almost impossible to invade. Because of this, foreign nations had rarely attacked it throughout history.

But the land itself carried a curse: a faint poisonous miasma hung in the soil and air. This toxin stunted crops, ruined harvests, and left the country trapped in constant poverty.

---

At the Daimyo’s Palace

For such a small country, even the palace of the Bear Daimyo held little splendor.

Renjiro had secured an audience with him without much trouble—though it had cost a bribe. Still, after looting Danzo’s hidden vault, such a sum was nothing more than pocket change.

At the highest chamber of the keep, the Daimyo awaited him. True to the name of his land, the man was broad-shouldered and heavyset.

Yet Renjiro’s sharp eyes saw past the surface. Behind the intimidating frame was a body long eroded by wine and women, a man whose strength was only a shadow of what it once might have been.

The Daimyo looked at Renjiro and said: “Your Excellency must be the great Nura Rihan. Truly, your presence is most imposing.”

The Daimyo’s eyes flickered with envy. Before him stood a man of almost unnatural charm, his features were sharp and striking.

But this was not Renjiro’s real face. Today, he wore a disguise—the likeness of Nura Rihan from the Nura Clan. In a world brimming with hidden dangers and buried secrets, exposing his true identity too soon would be reckless. A mask was simply common sense.

And if one had to wear a mask, why not choose a figure worthy of admiration? For Renjiro, that meant embodying one of the most stylish figures he revered: Nura Rihan, heir of Nurarihyon and the second head of the Nura Clan.

Of course, Renjiro hadn’t copied the look completely. Instead of the clan’s trademark long, flowing hair, he chose a shorter style, neatly cropped at the ears.

But appearances aside, the real matter soon returned to focus.

Though envy flickered in his eyes, the Daimyo quickly regained his composure. A ruler could not linger on such petty feelings, he had greater concerns.

“I’ve heard.” The Daimyo said, his voice turned serious: “That Your Excellency has a business proposal for me?”

There was a hint of eagerness beneath his tone. Though called a Daimyo, his life was only modestly better than that of his subjects.

In a land as barren as his, wealth was scarce, and any promise of profit was worth seizing. That promise was the only reason Renjiro had been welcomed into his hall so quickly.

“Yes.” Renjiro replied calmly: “I do have a business proposal.”

“And what kind of deal would that be?” The Daimyo asked, in an impatience voice.

Renjiro’s lips curved into a faint smile: “I wish to buy the Hidden Star Village. Name your price, Daimyo-sama.”

The Daimyo froze, utterly stunned: “Y-Your Excellency… what did you just say?”

“I want to buy Hoshigakure.” Renjiro repeated calmly: “Please, Daimyo-sama, tell me your price.”

Glup!

The Daimyo swallowed hard, his expression twisting into an uneasy smile: “…Surely, this must be some kind of joke.”

“I do not joke.” Renjiro replied, his smile vanishing as his face hardened: “The truth is simple: relations between Hoshigakure and the Land of Bears are already tense. Rather than let that hostility grow, why not sell the village to me? In exchange, you will gain immense wealth, and a shinobi village bound in loyalty to your throne.”

“…This…”

The Daimyo faltered, his heart unsettled. Renjiro’s words struck deep, for they were not lies. The ties between his country and Hoshigakure were fragile at best.

The Land of Bears had long lacked the resources to properly support its shinobi village. The Third Hoshikage had endured that neglect in silence, but under Ranzo Hoshino’s leadership, resentment had taken root. Their relationship had soured to the point of hostility.

Yet even if he wished to, the Daimyo had little real power over Hoshigakure. To “sell” the village outright was beyond his authority.

Renjiro caught the hesitation in his eyes and let out a quiet chuckle.

“I don’t need them to hand me leadership willingly.” He said smoothly: “What I require is legitimacy, a title. All you must do is recognize me as Hoshikage. Leave the rest to me.”

With that, he nudged forward a heavy chest. Its lid opened with a creak, revealing stacks of banknotes that caught the light with a golden gleam: “You may consider this… a first payment.”

“Ahhh!”

The Daimyo’s eyes widened, greed flashing like fire as he stared at the overflowing chest.

“What… what do you mean?” He whispered.

“It’s yours.” Renjiro said, pushing the chest closer across the floor: “All I need is your signature. If I succeed in taking control of Hoshigakure, you will have a loyal Hoshikage bound to your throne. If I fail, the gold remains yours. For you, Daimyo-sama, it is a deal without risk.”

The Daimyo’s gaze darted between Renjiro and the glittering wealth before him. His expression trembled.

The temptation was overwhelming, yet the cost was clear. If he agreed, he would be cutting off Hoshigakure’s current leader, Ranzo Hoshino, forever.

The weight of that choice pressed on him—until Renjiro’s voice cut through his hesitation like a blade: “Daimyo-sama.”

“Hm?”

The Daimyo lifted his head, only for a sudden spark of lightning to explode before his eyes.

Crrrkk!

“What?!”

In the next instant, his vision swirled. He gasped, heart pounding in disbelief.

The guardians who had been hidden in the shadows, his personal shinobi, sworn to protect him—now lay scattered across the floor. All of them had been struck down in the blink of an eye.

And there, standing calmly amidst their fallen bodies, was the man wearing Nura Rihan’s face. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, yet the truth was undeniable. He alone had defeated them instantly.

“You…!”

The Daimyo of the Bear Country glared at Renjiro in shock and anger.

“Daimyo-sama, now you see my strength, don’t you? Rest assured—this agreement will not bring you any loss.” Renjiro’s voice was calm, almost reassuring, though the edge beneath it was unmistakable.

It was no offer. It was a threat, a clear show of power.

The Daimyo stared at him in silence for a long time. Renjiro’s expression began to harden with impatience before the man finally exhaled and gave a slow nod.

“Very well. I will appoint you as the Fourth Hoshikage of Hoshigakure. But, Rihan-dono… you must keep your word.”

“Of course.” Renjiro replied without hesitation. Whether those words held truth or not was something only the future would decide.

At once, the Daimyo called for a servant. Brush and ink were brought, and before Renjiro’s eyes, the decree of appointment was written.

In truth, the Daimyo’s surrender came down to two simple reasons: Renjiro’s sheer power, and the mountain of wealth placed before him.

His three elite guardians, each of them seasoned, Special Jōnin-level shinobi had been struck down in an instant. That alone proved Renjiro was no ordinary shinobi.

Besides, if Renjiro had wished him harm, he could have taken what he wanted by force. The very fact that he offered payment suggested his intentions were not hostile, at least, not toward the Daimyo himself.

And most of all, the Daimyo knew the limits of his own authority. He had never truly controlled Hoshigakure’s leadership.

If he couldn’t dictate the village’s fate anyway, why not take the gold, sign the decree, and leave Renjiro and Ranzo to settle the struggle themselves?

Renjiro could guess what was running through the Daimyo’s mind, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the legitimacy of the appointment.

With the Daimyo’s decree in hand, convincing the village would be far easier.

It also gave him a layer of official recognition—something that would prove useful in the future, especially when resources or supplies needed to be secured under the Land of Bears’ name.

---

Valley of Stars

With the decree in hand, Renjiro set out for the next step of his plan. His path led him to the Valley of Stars.

Using his Mind Net and sharp sensory skills, he quickly pinpointed Natsume’s secluded home, the same quiet dwelling where her late husband now rested.

Standing beneath the looming, star-shaped rock formation, he called out with courtesy: “Natsume-dono, I am Nura Rihan. I’ve come to discuss an important matter with you.”

He called more than once, but silence was his only answer. Renjiro could sense her presence within, her chakra steady. She was there, she simply chose not to respond.

At last, he let his voice ring louder: “This is about a way to end the harmful effects of the Star Training. Please, Natsume-dono… come forth.”

That finally drew her out. After a brief pause, Natsume stepped from her home, her movements measured but steady.

For a moment, she faltered. Renjiro’s features were striking, almost unreal, which caught her off guard.

Even someone as resolute as she, loyal to the memory of her late husband, could not help but glance twice. But she quickly regained focus.

“You said you can counter the side effects of the Star Training.” She asked with urgency in her voice: “What did you mean by that?”

Without a word, Renjiro drew a small vial from his cloak and tossed it lightly toward her. The liquid inside shimmered faintly in the light.

“This.” He said calmly: “Is a medicine that suppresses the Star’s influence. Study it if you wish—or test it yourself.”

Natsume studied the vial, then looked at Renjiro, and asked in a suspicion voice: “Who exactly are you? To know so much about the Star’s curse, and to create something like this?”

Renjiro did not answer her question directly: “Consider me a friend. I’ll be staying in a nearby village, if you have doubts, you can find me there.”

With that, he vanished in a blur, leaving her to decide.

---

Back inside her home, Natsume lingered over the vial. She tested it against every poison method she knew, but found nothing harmful. Still, doubt gnawed at her—could it truly suppress the Star’s effects?

In the end, three reasons pulled her toward risking it.

First, her husband’s death had already left her weary of life; only her son, Sumaru, kept her tethered to this world.

Second, countless shinobi of the Star Village still suffered under the same torment. If the medicine worked, it could free them.

And third, though Renjiro’s sudden appearance was cloaked in mystery, she could not sense any malice in him.

At last, she raised the vial to her lips and drank.

The effect was instantaneous. For the first time since beginning the Star Training, the crushing, suffocating pain that had haunted her every day simply… vanished. Her body felt light, almost weightless, as if a great chain had fallen away.

Tears welled in her eyes. She stared at her trembling hands and whispered: “It really works…”

Relief flooded through her, quickly followed by a spark of hope she had long thought dead. There was no hesitation now—she had to find that man again, and secure this medicine for the sake of the village.