It had been days now since she last donned the persona of an old lady and saved to women from a local group of bandits. She had to resist all her urges to not hunt them down and obliterate them. Weakened state or not, she knew she was still more than capable of destroying common thugs. And she knew that now more than ever, she'd really enjoy dishing out justice.
But luckily, her ambition had become refined and consistent over the years. Something grand and lofty was forming in her mind. Something to change the future that wasn't quite clear yet, but she knew it involved people, and she knew there was still much for her to learn. So for now, she was going to follow steps to set up the foundation for what this grand image will eventually be. She need not know specifics to know she's going to need more than one country firmly within her realm of control.
Chaodi was an obvious and easy choice, but it couldn't be the only choice. It had to be the first domino of all the countries on this continent. But she had much to learn before she knew exactly how to make the subsequent dominos fall. So healing her body stayed on the backburner, as did recruitments or assassinations or catering to her desires for vigilante justice.
But that doesn't mean she was just doing research. She was also planting seeds everywhere she went. In this country, she'd chosen the persona of an old lady. She expected stories of her to say she had many names, always humble, never in need of more than shelter. She comes to your village, things get resolved and life improves. And always, she reminds people to fight and be ready for the great day when they need to band together to overcome their circumstance once and for all.
She hadn't done enough to become a legend yet, and most of them wouldn't remember her for a while. Not until she made bigger moves and refreshed their memories. For now, she adapted the persona's mindset. Imagined herself as a grandmother of Chaodi who had once seen a great people become subjugated to the world. An entire country's infrastructure pillaged and its continued rape made normalized. Her children and their cohort all paralyzed by trauma and fear, stuck living peasant lives and unable to do anything but survive.
Nationalistic pride was definitely the way to go here, and the maternal touch didn't hurt either. Still there was a lot of work ahead of her, and Zai focused instead on moving forwards. Between the pain and the ever-looming despair she had not quite contended with yet, Zai found it best to never rest for too long unless it was truly needed. Her pain was as distracting as it was tethering, and she allowed the two states to exist as she trudged along with no apparent limp.
On the road again
Zai, closed flashback. Chaodi thread #2
On the road again
- zenchou
Most intense. Mission. EVER.
Most intense. Mission. EVER.
| [color=#C9B037]Ouji Hito | Sunagakure no Sato | |
| A-ranked Missing Ninja |
On the road again
Up until now in Chaodi, she had been village hopping. It was tempting to investigate the many, many problems she was informed of or witnessed. More than one group of thugs had harassed her, and she had heard stories of shut-down plants and seized properties that would surely be brimming with lowlifes and plunder that she could make use of.
In a way, she felt like a kid in a candy shop. There were so many possibilities here. This was a nation that wasn't just poor, but ransacked. It had infrastructure that just went unitilized because it was too much of a hastle to keep defending or rebuilding after raiders plundered and destroyed. Farming lands had been abandoned to move closer together on the shore, enemies from all over the continent had Chaodi as a sort-of lawless vacation spot you can go to and find a quick buck.
Zai had been in many cesspools and she could see that Chaodi was something like 3 out of 5 parts of the way to become an inhospitable cess pool. It wasn't that obvious now, but this kind of lawless free for all is what resulted in criminal organizations coming to power and using surprising intelligence to accelerate every problem and create safe havens for degenerecy.
Zai knew because it was generally her favorite kind of place to hang out and foment sources of information. She didn't desire it for this country, however. Barring brute force and years of political machinations, there wasn't much she could do. Even with brute force, there was a limit of only fixing problems she could immediately reach and find the root cause of.
So instead, she was going a completely different route and getting creative. Using a skill she hadn't flexed her entire life:
Writing.
As she traveled, she committed stories to memory. She interviewed people in little ways, asking simple questions to one person here or there, creating a collective interview where no one person felt interrogated or exposed. She watched peoples lives and analyzed what they wanted and needed, what their situation was and how it could be improved.
Now was time to utilize that information.
She was sitting at the first library she'd seen in the country, inside the meager capital city. She sat comfortably, still donning her old lady outfit and makeup. She wrote at an inhuman speed, slowed only by the limitations of her writing utensil and how much friction it could apply to the paper on the table. In front of her, sat a very uncomfortable and perplexed group of middle aged men in business atire.
"So what's the problem, gentlemen? You've read my first draft, yes?" Part of their shock and discomfort came from how Zai managed to keep writing and speaking to them at the same time. This old lady wasn't normal.
"Well.. you see, ma'am, .. uh"
"Nobody knows you, you have no references and you're an old lady. We'd have to be crazy to do this" The one in the middle cut off the meakest of the three, losing his sense of shock as he remembered why he was feeling so irritated. This bizarre old hag had arrived at the offices of the these three, all of whom were competing publishers, and demanded they publish her works en masse, to be released to the country and continent at large.
"No disrespect madam ...." He continued speaking when it was clear Zai had no intention of sharing her name now. "But there's just no good reason for any of us to do this, much less for all three of us to collaborate on doing. We're competitors, we gain nothing from having the same terms with an author on their work.
It was the truth. This would have been preposterous had she been a well known author, much less some old vagabond from the streets. None of the three were admitting out loud that the writing was absolutely magnificent. This woman aimed to incite a crowd and it was clear she knew how to do so, the three men each were feeling more patriotic than they had in years after reading just a brief of her work.
Zai's face was unimpressed and unbothered. At most, she gave a slightly annoyed lip curl and returned her attention to her writing. With this page, she finished another column she was going to have published.
"Its ok boys, I know you don't understand. And you don't have to. At some point soon, something will happen and you'll have no doubt in your mind that it has to do with me and this offer I'm giving you today. At around the same time, the three of you will reach the conclusion that you should publish my work and you should publish it in the very specific manner with which I tell you to publish it." Rather abruptly, but with a slow and casual elegance betrayed only by the disgusting sight of her arm and the slight body twisting that hinted at an equally mangled leg. "When that time comes, you three can work out profit and influence amongst yourselves. There will be content in all media forms and under multiple pseudonyms. Directions will be very specific, but all I care about are the things I tell you I care about. If you find a way to profit further, go for it. But always follow my instructions to the letter first."
She was looking down at them, speaking like a teacher to students. Yet for some reason, even the most hot headed of them just sat there, listening with a mix of disbelief and minor dread for some reason.
"Do as I say and you will become richer and more successful than you've ever dreamed. Don't do as I say, and you may just never dream at all" Smiling an inappropriately warm and charming smile, the woman turned and limped away. On the table she was sitting at were two piles of papers, all grouped into packets wrapped with twine to an envelope with instructions. Directly in front of where she was sitting, were three of these groupings, each with an envelope addressed to one of the men that were sitting there.
She grinned as she heard the sound of three envelopes being torn while she walked out of the library, knowing this means she had three publishers in her hands. Now to work on that spy network
In a way, she felt like a kid in a candy shop. There were so many possibilities here. This was a nation that wasn't just poor, but ransacked. It had infrastructure that just went unitilized because it was too much of a hastle to keep defending or rebuilding after raiders plundered and destroyed. Farming lands had been abandoned to move closer together on the shore, enemies from all over the continent had Chaodi as a sort-of lawless vacation spot you can go to and find a quick buck.
Zai had been in many cesspools and she could see that Chaodi was something like 3 out of 5 parts of the way to become an inhospitable cess pool. It wasn't that obvious now, but this kind of lawless free for all is what resulted in criminal organizations coming to power and using surprising intelligence to accelerate every problem and create safe havens for degenerecy.
Zai knew because it was generally her favorite kind of place to hang out and foment sources of information. She didn't desire it for this country, however. Barring brute force and years of political machinations, there wasn't much she could do. Even with brute force, there was a limit of only fixing problems she could immediately reach and find the root cause of.
So instead, she was going a completely different route and getting creative. Using a skill she hadn't flexed her entire life:
Writing.
As she traveled, she committed stories to memory. She interviewed people in little ways, asking simple questions to one person here or there, creating a collective interview where no one person felt interrogated or exposed. She watched peoples lives and analyzed what they wanted and needed, what their situation was and how it could be improved.
Now was time to utilize that information.
She was sitting at the first library she'd seen in the country, inside the meager capital city. She sat comfortably, still donning her old lady outfit and makeup. She wrote at an inhuman speed, slowed only by the limitations of her writing utensil and how much friction it could apply to the paper on the table. In front of her, sat a very uncomfortable and perplexed group of middle aged men in business atire.
"So what's the problem, gentlemen? You've read my first draft, yes?" Part of their shock and discomfort came from how Zai managed to keep writing and speaking to them at the same time. This old lady wasn't normal.
"Well.. you see, ma'am, .. uh"
"Nobody knows you, you have no references and you're an old lady. We'd have to be crazy to do this" The one in the middle cut off the meakest of the three, losing his sense of shock as he remembered why he was feeling so irritated. This bizarre old hag had arrived at the offices of the these three, all of whom were competing publishers, and demanded they publish her works en masse, to be released to the country and continent at large.
"No disrespect madam ...." He continued speaking when it was clear Zai had no intention of sharing her name now. "But there's just no good reason for any of us to do this, much less for all three of us to collaborate on doing. We're competitors, we gain nothing from having the same terms with an author on their work.
It was the truth. This would have been preposterous had she been a well known author, much less some old vagabond from the streets. None of the three were admitting out loud that the writing was absolutely magnificent. This woman aimed to incite a crowd and it was clear she knew how to do so, the three men each were feeling more patriotic than they had in years after reading just a brief of her work.
Zai's face was unimpressed and unbothered. At most, she gave a slightly annoyed lip curl and returned her attention to her writing. With this page, she finished another column she was going to have published.
"Its ok boys, I know you don't understand. And you don't have to. At some point soon, something will happen and you'll have no doubt in your mind that it has to do with me and this offer I'm giving you today. At around the same time, the three of you will reach the conclusion that you should publish my work and you should publish it in the very specific manner with which I tell you to publish it." Rather abruptly, but with a slow and casual elegance betrayed only by the disgusting sight of her arm and the slight body twisting that hinted at an equally mangled leg. "When that time comes, you three can work out profit and influence amongst yourselves. There will be content in all media forms and under multiple pseudonyms. Directions will be very specific, but all I care about are the things I tell you I care about. If you find a way to profit further, go for it. But always follow my instructions to the letter first."
She was looking down at them, speaking like a teacher to students. Yet for some reason, even the most hot headed of them just sat there, listening with a mix of disbelief and minor dread for some reason.
"Do as I say and you will become richer and more successful than you've ever dreamed. Don't do as I say, and you may just never dream at all" Smiling an inappropriately warm and charming smile, the woman turned and limped away. On the table she was sitting at were two piles of papers, all grouped into packets wrapped with twine to an envelope with instructions. Directly in front of where she was sitting, were three of these groupings, each with an envelope addressed to one of the men that were sitting there.
She grinned as she heard the sound of three envelopes being torn while she walked out of the library, knowing this means she had three publishers in her hands. Now to work on that spy network
- zenchou
Most intense. Mission. EVER.
Most intense. Mission. EVER.
| [color=#C9B037]Ouji Hito | Sunagakure no Sato | |
| A-ranked Missing Ninja |