Corpse Collector of Konoha

Chapter 56: Just One?

Back in his tent, Qifeng settled into his usual cross-legged position. The canvas walls felt thinner tonight, like they might blow away with the wrong gust of wind. He pulled out a cigarette—his last one, naturally—and rolled it between his fingers before lighting it. The flame danced for a moment before settling into a steady burn.

Just one cigarette. Had to make it count.

"So Orochimaru's sniffing around the Uchiha now, is he?" Qifeng muttered, exhaling smoke that curled toward the tent's peak. Not exactly shocking news—anyone who'd paid attention to that snake's career trajectory could see his Sharingan obsession coming from a mile away.

But they were still in the early days of the Third War. Which meant...

"Already playing with Hashirama's cells, are we?" He took another drag, darker thoughts swirling with the smoke. "Figured out that Uchiha yin chakra might balance out all that yang energy from the First Hokage. What a charming little science project."

Really, it was just high-end grave robbing with extra steps.

"Speaking of the Uchiha..."

Qifeng's mind drifted to the recent skirmish between Konoha's advance forces and Iwagakure. There'd been Uchiha casualties—not jounin, thankfully, so nobody'd made a big fuss about it initially. Two chunin, tucked away in a corner like forgotten laundry.

In all his time in this world, he'd never encountered an Uchiha corpse with active Sharingan. The clan guarded their bloodline like dragons hoarding gold, which was understandable but inconvenient for his particular... hobby.

War changed the math, though. Too many bodies, not enough ceremony. Even the proud Uchiha couldn't micromanage every fallen member when the casualties stacked up like firewood.

These particular corpses would be bundled up with the rest, shipped back to Konoha where the clan would claim them. A brief window of opportunity, really.

Ever since unlocking his single-tomoe Sharingan, Qi Feng had felt the difference. The world moved a fraction slower, details sharper. But his bloodline was thin as soup—about as much chance of natural evolution as a snowball had in Fire Country summer.

If he wanted to advance, he'd need to... acquire additional materials.

"Question is whether I can grab the eyes directly or need more bloodline cards." He flicked ash onto the ground, noting how it scattered like tiny gray bones. "Suppose I'll find out soon enough."

Today's quota was spent, naturally. Midnight couldn't come fast enough—by tomorrow they'd be escorting the wounded and dead back to Konoha, where his particular opportunities would vanish behind clan politics and bureaucracy.

"Better prep the bodies first."

Qifeng stubbed out his cigarette and got to work. He'd made peace with abandoning most of his old principles, but treating the dead with dignity? That line remained unbroken. Maybe it was all he had left of whoever he used to be.

The work consumed him—cleaning, positioning, making the corpses look less like meat and more like people who'd simply fallen asleep. Time blurred together in the quiet tent.

When night finally fell, an unexpected visitor limped into his makeshift morgue.

"Mr. Chuichi?" Qifeng blinked in surprise. Nara Chuichi looked like he'd been through hell—bandages wrapped around most of his body, favoring one leg heavily.

Chuichi glanced around at the carefully arranged bodies, something like relief flickering across his face. They looked peaceful now, human. "Hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all." Qifeng peeled off his rubber gloves and helped the injured man find somewhere to sit. Amazing how even in wartime, some courtesies persisted.

They settled down together, and Chuichi held up two fingers in a V-shape, grinning despite his obvious pain.

QfFeng shook his head with mock exasperation. "You're held together with medical tape and you want to smoke?"

Chuichi just kept waving those fingers, the gesture somehow both triumphant and desperately casual.

"Fine, fine." Qifeng retrieved a cigarette, because what was one more compromise?

Soon they were both smoking in the tent full of corpses, which felt appropriately surreal.

"Thank you," Chuichi said eventually, breaking the comfortable silence. "For this time."

"Just doing my job."

Chuichi nodded slowly, his gaze sweeping across the tent, taking in the neat rows of bodies. His expression grew complicated—grief and resignation and something harder to name.

They sat there without speaking, two living men surrounded by the war's harvest.

"This is war," Chuichi murmured, as if stating a fundamental law of physics.

He struggled to his feet, using his knees for leverage. "Nothing else. Just wanted to thank you properly."

Qifeng watched him limp away, understanding the real purpose of the visit. Wellness check, essentially. Most of the advance team had survived the Second War, but Qifeng was fresh meat. Chuichi wanted to make sure the newbie wasn't cracking under the pressure of industrial-scale death.

A senior looking out for a junior. Almost touching, really.

After Chuichi left, Qifeng lit another cigarette and considered the interaction. The Nara clan was worth cultivating—intelligent, reliable, strategically valuable. But that intelligence cut both ways. They noticed things. Asked uncomfortable questions.

He returned to his work, arranging the dead with practiced efficiency.

Finally—midnight.

The system hummed back to life like a patient machine.

The jounin corpses were tempting, but he could handle those back in Konoha. The Uchiha bodies, though? This was his only shot. Once they reached the village, clan politics would slam that door shut.

No hesitation.

[Green corpse, success rate 60%, would you like to touch the corpse? (This time 3/3, today 9/9)]

[Yes.]

His hand settled on the first Uchiha's chest, still warm despite everything.

[Success! Obtained a single attribute +2 improvement card!]

[Fail!]

[Success! Obtained Fire Style - Phoenix Fire Technique Ninjutsu Card!]

Not bad, though no bloodline or eye techniques. Better than average for a green corpse, at least.

One more body waited.

[Fail!]

[Fail!]

"Tsk." Qifeng grimaced. "Two failures better mean something good's coming."

[Success! Obtained the double-tomoe Sharingan (left eye)!]

Qifeng paused, staring at the scarlet eye floating in his inventory screen. Two black tomoe sat in the crimson iris like drops of ink in blood.

"Just... one?"

He'd hoped for an Uchiha bloodline card, but a Sharingan was excellent compensation. But why only the left eye? Was he destined to walk around looking like some sort of optical misfit? One single-tomoe, one double-tomoe?

"Well," he muttered, "something's better than asymmetrical blindness."

Besides, functional differences between one and two double-tomoe eyes weren't massive—not until you hit Mangekyo territory, anyway.

Single-tomoe mainly enhanced dynamic vision. Barely affected genjutsu, couldn't copy techniques. But double-tomoe? That opened doors. Enhanced illusion capabilities, unique Sharingan techniques, actual combat applications.

As long as the war continued, opportunities would arise.

Qifeng slapped the upgrade card against himself.

"Ah—!"

Pain exploded through his left eye socket like someone driving hot needles through his brain. He doubled over, clutching his face as chakra flooded the ocular pathways. The lonely single tomoe spun frantically while his nervous system tried to process the upgrade.

Cold sweat soaked his clothes as the transformation continued. Slowly, agonizingly, a second tomoe materialized, forming a symmetrical pair in his left eye.

Then the chakra reversed course, flowing back into his body—more than had gone in, purer and more compatible than his original energy.

[Successfully used "Double-tomoe Sharingan (Left Eye)", Chakra +4, Genjustu +4!]

Qifeng stumbled to his reflection in a piece of polished metal, examining his mismatched eyes. One single-tomoe right, one double-tomoe left.

"You know what? The double-tomoe actually looks better." He grinned at his lopsided reflection. "More intimidating. Like I'm perpetually winking at death."

He used the remaining cards quickly.

[Genjustu +2]

[Successfully learned Fire Style - Phoenix Fire Technique!]

"Three chances left

Qifeng surveyed his domain—tent full of corpses, each one a potential upgrade. The war had been terrible for many things, but wonderful for his particular career advancement.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, considering his options. So many senior ninja, so many possibilities.

War really was the gift that kept on giving.

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