Seeing the girl's despair and silence, Tamura Hao tried to persuade her.
"Life is only a few decades long. The most important thing is to live it meaningfully—don't give in to despair. You still have a future, and there are endless possibilities."
"Even though you're disfigured, lost one eye, both legs, and even had your internal organs partially devoured by parasitic insects, meaning you may be confined to a bed for the rest of your life…"
Tamura Hao spoke bluntly about Karura's injuries and prognosis, prompting her to avert her gaze with dull, exhausted eyes.
Are you comforting me or mocking me? I know my condition better than anyone. There's no need for you to point it out.
He had seemed so gentle and funny when they first met.
Sensing her reaction, Tamura Hao smoothly shifted topics.
"I've studied information about the First Hokage of Konoha—Senju Hashirama. He possessed a self-healing ability so incredible that he could regenerate from grave injuries without weaving hand seals. Limbs, organs… even when halved, he recovered almost instantly. That's the pinnacle of chakra-driven regeneration."
Hearing this, Karura's empty heart sparked slightly. Could I recover…?
But the spark was brief. Her voice, hoarse and broken, responded, "There's no point. Hashirama's power is myth. Not even his descendants inherited it. Konoha never replicated that miracle."
The fact that no one ever matched Hashirama's power again made her believe it was nothing more than legend—out of reach.
"I'm really terrible at comforting people."
Seeing her sink again into silence, Tamura Hao suddenly changed demeanor. His smile turned wicked, and his expression was disturbingly cheerful.
"Then I'll use another method. If you don't pull yourself together and fight for your future, I'll strip you bare, take pictures, and send them to Rasa."
He leaned in with a grin. "I wonder what kind of expression Rasa would make when he sees you like this… interesting, right?"
He continued, "Your parents—do they know you're still alive? They think you're dead. But if they saw what you've become… that might kill them for real. Will they weep? Will they go mad?"
Tamura Hao's absurd and vile tone stunned Karura. His entire personality had flipped.
Is he possessed? Or is this his real self?
Eventually regaining composure, Karura asked coldly, "What do you want from me? If it's information about Sunagakure's techniques or secrets… I won't betray my village."
She wasn't sure if anything he said was true, or even who he really was, but she wouldn't gamble on exposing her homeland. She didn't want Rasa or her family to see her like this either.
Tamura Hao, seeing her defiance laced with fear, smiled. Danzo's teachings had worked again—ruthless coercion over honeyed words.
Back in the day, Danzo had forced Yakushi Nono to keep working in Root through fear and manipulation. Tamura Hao was following in his footsteps—truly, he was Danzo's heir, destined to carry on the Root legacy.
"We already extracted key information about Sunagakure's Puppet Techniques and battle systems using genjutsu and hallucinogens while you were unconscious. That part's done."
He leaned back and continued, "I'm opening a clinic and shop that specializes in custom puppet prosthetics for amputees. You know enough about puppetry to make yourself a pair of legs. After that, you'll work for me—earn your keep."
He revealed his capitalist mindset. With war coming, demand for prosthetics would soar. And Karura's survival alone would be a shift in the story's fate—another tool in Tamura Hao's hand.
"It's just a prosthetic… to help you live again, that's all."
After a long pause, Karura agreed. She wasn't a full puppeteer, but she had training. Simple prosthetic limbs would be manageable.
But then she noticed something: the empty bowl beside Hao.
Wait… wasn't that porridge meant for me?
"This eight-treasure porridge… it's starting to taste like home," Tamura Hao muttered, savoring it.
Then he took out a sealed vial containing dark red, viscous fluid.
"This is blood from the Uzumaki clan. Their vitality is unparalleled. Even in death, their blood retains healing properties. I purified it—removed the parasitic insects. It's not as potent as fresh blood, but this should help you recover."
This sample came from the remnants of Uzushiogakure—tested and confirmed by Kumogakure's medics.
"I'm not drinking that!"
Karura recoiled. The thought of swallowing dead person's blood was disgusting.
"Do you want to heal or not? Your burns and organ damage won't recover on their own."
Tamura Hao grabbed her jaw, forced her mouth open, and poured the thick blood in, ignoring her struggle. Chakra flowed through his palm, guiding the vitality into her system.
This was the only available solution. While severe burns could be lived with, her compromised organs would never recover on their own. This was the best healing cheat available.
The blood's effect was fast. Within minutes, her flesh began knitting, and her organs stabilized. Though her legs remained missing, most of her injuries improved. Even her face was no longer grotesquely deformed—just pale and frail.
"Ugh!"
Revulsion overtook her. She rolled over and vomited violently into the trash can. The blood she expelled had absorbed her internal rot.
Tamura Hao didn't react. He'd anticipated this—why he hadn't brought her dinner. No point eating when it would be expelled.
Karura dry-heaved for several minutes, then collapsed on the bed, exhausted and hollow-eyed.
Tamura Hao gently unwrapped the bandages on her head. Her hair was gone, and the skin, though mostly healed, remained unnatural and pink. He frowned.
"She'll need the Yang power to fully recover."
He thought of Naruto's power from the Sage of Six Paths, which had healed severe injuries, regenerated limbs, and even recreated lost Sharingan. But Hagoromo had taken it back.
Had Naruto retained that power permanently, he wouldn't need Tsunade's transplant to regain his lost arm. Compared to that, regenerating Karura's legs should be possible with the Yang power.
"Here, rinse your mouth. I'll take you to discharge," he said, handing her warm water.
"You're such a jerk," she muttered, rinsing her mouth, glaring at him.
Back in the village, she had thought he was just a weird kid. But now she realized—he was a manipulative, dark-hearted demon.
"Thanks for the compliment!"
He grinned, opened the window to air out the fishy smell, picked up the trash can, and headed to the washroom to clean it.