Chương 461: CH_12.28 (461)

Baizan had been living in his mansion in the Ember Imperial City, the capital of the Land of Fire, for the better part of a decade to be closer to the Daimyo's court. Sitting across from him was a high-ranking official, looking poised and collected, in contrast to his own jittery nerves and bubbling impatience.

"Did you somehow offend the Leaf?" said the official, picking up the ceramic cup of steaming tea as his nervous gaze fluttered to the room's entrance.

"Not that I can remember. Did you hear something?" A lot had happened in the past twenty days. Hisasa had been utterly useless. He had failed to break or even quell the strike. Compared to the mercenaries that had taken care of it so effortlessly the last time around, it was a shitshow. With the emergence of a second strike elsewhere, Baizan immediately sent him to rehire the Scorched Wolves, kicking himself for not doing it in the first place.

But the mercenary group had been retired—broken up by shinobi intervention. However, it wasn't a big deal. There was no shortage of good fixers eager to have him as a client. He had another mercenary group ready and out on the job the very next day. But en route to the second village, the mercenary group disappeared. No one knew if they had reached it because there was no contact with them.

The same happened with the former shinobi employees that he had sent to Hisasa's aid, who told him that while the group of five did arrive in the late evening, they were nowhere to be found in the morning. The only trace of them was their belongings left in their rooms. It was then that he began taking Hisasa's words seriously. He had initially ignored his subordinate when he said that the mayor and constabulary had turned on them, but after his men disappeared, he gave those words a second thought.

According to Hisasa, the mayor and constabulary were scared of something, angry at him, and had lost all reverence or respect for the Baizan name after licking his boots for years.

"Why else would they supply evidence against you?" said the official, his gaze pulled to the entrance.

"At least, that's what I heard. I can't be sure." Three legal cases he had paid handsomely to be buried were being reopened. The timing was all too perfect, given everything that was happening in his life. Someone was behind it. And now he was being told that the shinobi were behind his troubles. The thoughts of the mercenary group and his men going missing made him nervous.

"What good will come from messing with me?" Baizan all but yelled.

"In fact, I'm a generous client. Do you know how many former and current shinobi I hire all year round as couriers?" His business logistics for delivering ore, metal, and product were handled by shinobi. His back was slicked with sweat. When he heard about Danzō's exodus and change in status, he had feared that the shinobi might come after him because he had done some work for Danzō that others would find less than savory, but when they didn't, he forgot about it. Had the time finally come?

"Whatever it is, you need to take care of it," said the official.

"You don't want this escalating until others start having thoughts about you." Baizan gritted his teeth. People were like hyenas. The moment they got a whiff of a meal, they would gather around to see if they could have some of it for themselves—even if they weren't the ones who hunted it. It was obvious they wanted a piece of decades of Baizan's hard work!

"It's time. Are you ready?" asked the official. Baizan had no choice. He called for a servant and asked for the other guests to be invited to the room. An excruciatingly long minute later, a masked man with a black robe stepped into the room. He was of short stature but had a presence broader than the room itself. It wasn't Baizan's first time seeing an ANBU-nin; he had seen a couple during the wars, but nothing could ever make him used to their presence.

Perhaps it was the masks they wore or the authority they represented. Behind the ANBU-nin was a samurai in full gear. He was there for their safety and to listen to their conversation. The samurai were, of course, going to be interested in whatever Leaf's ANBU had to say. He would rather not have the samurai here, but there was no way to get rid of him. In the Ember Imperial City, samurai reigned supreme, only second to the Daimyo himself.

"Your reputation precedes you, Iron King Baizan." A cold shiver went down Baizan's back when he heard the distorted, inorganic voice coming from behind the mask. The court official gripped his teacup while looking away from the shinobi. Even the powerful and armoured samurai uncomfortably gazed at the masked man's back. Was there really a human behind the mask and robe, or was it something entirely else?

"I-I, too, have heard much about your cohort," Baizan said as he invited the ANBU-nin to sit down. All the problems in his life, and suddenly, Leaf's ANBU was visiting his home. There was no doubt that they were behind his sudden spree of problems. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"I can see that." Baizan clenched his fists in his lap.

"M-May I ask what brings you to visit me?"

"Your relationship with Shimura Danzō. Have you been in contact with him recently?" Baizan curled his toes at the blunt question. In all honesty, he had received a letter from Danzō after his forced departure from the Hidden Leaf, and he had even replied favourably. He hadn't done the unsavoury things just because Danzō had helped him with his workers—he could've taken care of that on his own, even if it meant a little more trouble. Danzō had helped him capture a large share of businesses from the Hidden Leaf.

What he had to give in return was far cheaper than what he had gained, which was why he had also continued to supply him with metal, even after his exodus from the village. He silently swallowed before answering, "... I must say, I'm confused. I have had some run-ins with Shimura Danzō before, but not enough to know him out of a professional capacity. And after what he did, I don't think there's any room for us to have any sort of correspondence, much less any connection."

"Is that so? I thought otherwise when I read this." The ANBU-nin pulled out a transparent bag with a letter inside from his robes and placed it on the table, sliding it towards Baizan, who leaned over to read and froze when he recognised his own handwriting. It was a letter he had written to Danzō, thanking him for his help gaining the contracts. Baizan had been careful about not mentioning the particulars and kept things vague, but the existence and tone of the letter utterly refuted the claim he had just made.

"A-Ah, I completely f-forgot about this," he said shamelessly.

"It was so long ago that it completely slipped my mind. This was a simple t-thank-you letter because he was part of the process when I was securing a deal with your village. It was just a professional courtesy."

"The tone and content say otherwise." The ANBU-nin returned the letter to his robe.

"I'll ask again: are you still in contact with Danzō?"

"No, I'm not!" Baizan said, raising his voice to show injustice.

"Do you have any way to reach him?"

"As I said, I don't have a connection with him."

"A pity. We had reason to believe you might still have a connection with him, but if you're saying otherwise, we can only take your word for it. You're the Iron King, after all. The biggest in the iron industry—the backbone of industry. Even the Hidden Leaf works with you." Baizan frowned. The legal cases didn't really bother him that much. The biggest problem was that the Hidden Leaf was among his biggest clients.

The amount of iron, steel, and weapons he supplied to them brought in big business, and he feared losing it if they didn't renew their contracts with him. However, he didn't think ANBU had the authority to do it because the size and scope of his contracts were large enough that it would take a lot from the Hidden Leaf's size to replace them. The ANBU-nin stood up from his place.

"We want to catch Shimura Danzō. He's a traitor to this nation, after all. In any case, if you change your mind, want to connect with him, or have any problems due to him, please do not hesitate to contact us through our liaison. Until then, Mister Baizan. I'll be waiting for your word." As Baizan saw off the eerie-voiced ANBU-nin, he was surprised that the masked man had backed off so easily. There were no threats or offers to stop the legal cases or withdraw whatever they were doing in his ironwork bases.

He just came and left. It left him feeling apprehensive more than relieved.

"What was that?" he asked the official.

"How would I know? The shinobi are a strange kind." The samurai gazed at him for a moment as though he wanted to say something, but didn't say anything in the end, and followed after the ANBU-nin, boarding the carriage they had arrived in. ———. It took only a few days for Baizan to realise that the ANBU-nin hadn't given up. It was all a plot to give him a false sense of comfort, because after a day of peace, an anonymous package arrived at his place with no sender name anywhere.

His head of staff had an utterly panicked look when he barged into the backyard during his leisure hours with a binder in his hand.

"S-Sir, this arrived in the mail today." Baizan wanted to lash out because he wanted some time to himself to relax from the stress of having two of his bases not producing iron due to the strikes, but the expression gave him pause. He took the binder and immediately closed it after reading a couple of pages.

"Not a word to anyone," he all but glowered at his butler, who rapidly nodded his head in fear. He immediately went to his office to read the binder with all sorts of information about his family members, trusted confidants, and business associates—all people he cared about and who held a stake in Baizan Iron and were important to him. It had copies of receipts, letters, photographs, and more that would ruin them if not significantly derail their lives.

He relied on these people to govern his empire, which was too large for any single person to rule. He needed trusted people, pawns, who would do his bidding, and if their lives were disturbed, it would disrupt the business. Baizan tried to find the name and even sent men to the post office to identify who had sent it, but no one knew who had sent the binder. Deep down, he knew who it was. With the timing, it could only be him. The badger-masked man's image flashed through his mind.

The next day, he got the news that some of his top brass and others working for him had been called in or arrested for interrogation in relation to three cases reopened against him. They didn't dare arrest him, but those under him didn't have his status to protect them. It was a show of force. Things were moving too quickly.

It was difficult for shinobi to do anything in the Ember Imperial City because it was governed by the samurai, who didn't like shinobi interfering with their matters, which meant someone big from the shinobi side was putting their weight behind these movements. After spending the day trying to handle the situation, he received news that the Hidden Leaf representatives suddenly wanted to meet him to discuss contract renegotiation.

He had a few dozen contracts with the Hidden Leaf—small and large—and none of the really large ones were going to be in jeopardy for another year at least. Baizan didn't care if he lost some of the small ones that the meeting was about, but he knew the real meaning behind this meeting. They were intended to be a taste that things could get much worse. With each passing day, the conditions worsened.

Two of his bases weren't smelting or smithing because of the strikes, so he had to use his reputation and influence to reassure his customers that everything would return to normal soon. But it had already been two weeks, and not even his influence could stop the complaints from coming in. During the meeting, the Leaf representative used that very problem to impose penalties written in the current contract and leverage for worse terms for the potential future contract.

As he sat in his lounge, smoking tobacco to calm himself, the distorted voice whispered in the back of Baizan's head,"—have any problems due to him, please do not hesitate to contact us—" This was all because Leaf's ANBU wanted Danzō, and they were pressuring him to get what they wanted. He might've received help from Danzō, but the past was the past, and he needed to protect his interests now. If giving up Danzō could make these things go away, then he knew what he needed to do.

Baizan didn't have much of a choice.