A/N: I added an auxiliary chapter with Sakura's previous life background, check it out if you want to know more about her and her actions in the future, I will mention some bits and pieces of it throughout the story as well though, so if you don't feel like it, just keep reading normally.
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The fresh, cold breeze of the morning carried with it the scent of the sea. Standing by the railing and watching the waves roll across the water, Sakura took a deep breath. It was her first time seeing the ocean. Compared to her previous life—where every day was consumed by studies or company affairs—she had never known such leisure.
Of course, this was only temporary. Had the mission been in the Land of Grass, she wouldn't have had the chance to experience this moment of peace.
And naturally, it wouldn't last long.
Between Mr. Tazuna's safety and the bridge's construction, if either failed, their mission would be for nothing.
"This Gato... is he really that rich and powerful?" Sakura's voice broke the silence, smooth and curious, drawing Tazuna's gaze upward.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he gave a solemn nod.
"Gato, to you Konoha folks, might be just a wealthy businessman—maybe even one of the richest men in the world. But in smaller nations, he's the coldest-hearted bastard we know.
His methods are always the same. He targets small businesses, uses thugs and Nukenin to harass or kill competitors, and then monopolizes everything in the shipping trade with an iron grip.
I've even heard he traffics in drugs and other contraband. That's how he really got rich."
Hearing this, Sakura felt her worldview shift. Even in a world of shinobi, there were companies operating just like in hers.
Memories resurfaced—faintly tinged with shame, but never regret.
Her original name had been Hoshiko Arasaka, eldest daughter of the Arasaka lineage. Loyal and devoted to her father's legacy, she had lived in its shadow proudly.
The Arasaka Corporation had never been a force of light—quite the opposite. If Gato was a toddler in the game of shady business, Arasaka was an ancient monster, one that had clawed its way through decades of blood and fire with fists of steel.
And she had been its Little Princess—dubbed so by the employees and media alike.
No matter her relationship with her family or the outside world, she had always tried to bring a sliver of hope to those around her.
Thinking about it now, this world didn't seem all that different.
Even here, amid the darkness, perhaps she could bring her own version of light. On her own terms, of course.
Maybe... maybe she really should rebuild Arasaka in this world. The thought of turning Konoha into the foundation for her father's empire sent a thrill of excitement through her chest.
Lost in thought and staring into the distance, Sakura didn't notice Tazuna glance at her, click his tongue, and turn back to his work.
"This girl's kind of scary… better keep my distance," he muttered under his breath, careful not to let her hear.
Beside her, Naruto couldn't help but chime in with his usual carefree attitude. "If I had that much money, I'd just eat ramen every day. Who cares about ships or whatever you guys are talking about? Sounds way too boring."
The group collectively rolled their eyes.
"That's why you're not rich, idiot!"
"Hah? What did you say, Sasuke, you bastard?! Come say that again and eat my fist!"
"Idiot!"
"Bastard!"
In the midst of their playful banter, everyone was caught off guard by Sakura's sudden shout.
"Careful!"
Before anyone could react, she moved—leaving only an afterimage in her place.
One of the bridge workers stood frozen, wide-eyed as he watched a kunai speeding straight toward him. His heart pounded with fear and confusion. Why? Why would one of the ninja hired by Tazuna try to kill him?
He shut his eyes, bracing for the pain.
Pah!
The sharp sound of flesh being pierced echoed in their ears. Warm blood splattered across the worker's face.
But... there was no pain.
Slowly, he opened his eyes—and saw Sakura's hand above his head, clenched tightly around the kunai. A groan of pain came from behind him.
A thug covered in tattoos, wearing a headband and holding a katana, coughed up blood as he collapsed.
Just before he hit the ground, Sakura's hand swept up the sword.
"The quality isn't very high," she murmured, her voice cold and emotionless, "but I just so happen to be missing one."
Her words echoed in the ears of everyone present, making the workers, Tazuna, and even her two classmates shudder.
Kakashi was taken aback. Very few could remain so indifferent after taking a life for the first time. Maybe Sakura was far more suited for this line of work than he had originally thought. He gave a subtle nod, then turned to Naruto and Sasuke.
"Go. Kill them. They're likely bandits sent by Gato."
Sasuke nodded and dashed into the crowd. Waves of kunai whistled through the air, claiming the lives of two thugs instantly.
Naruto hesitated. But then he recalled the scene just moments ago—how that thug nearly killed someone right in front of them. Gritting his teeth, he steeled himself and joined the fray.
Facing the fifteen remaining enemies, Sakura felt a spark of excitement. How long had it been? The last time she stood on a battlefield must have been sometime between 2020 and 2025. She remembered those blood-soaked days with a strange fondness, the wars she fought alongside her comrades, and the brutal training with her father in her previous life.
Sunlight caught the edge of her blade, sending a flash of light into the thugs' eyes.
"Ugh!" A brief moment of blindness—just a second—but it was enough.
Sakura's gaze turned razor-sharp, her figure vanishing. Sasuke and Naruto followed close behind. With a fluid, practiced motion, she swung her blade.
Blood sprayed through the air with every strike. Limbs were severed cleanly, organs destroyed in a single blow. Yet no matter how fierce the battle, not a single drop of blood touched her clothes.
The scene was like a dance. She and Sasuke moved with graceful precision, every motion almost theatrical in its elegance. Naruto was more clumsy, but no less lethal—each punch from him was enough to cave in a chest or shatter a skull.
Within seconds, it was over. The thugs lay scattered on the ground, blood seeping from their wounds.