"Well, the exact number does depend on how you count Zetsu, huh? But there's only ten rings." One for each tail of the great beast, one for each finger on the statue they would use to revive it. None of them needed to know that, though. Each one of them were part of this organization for a different ideal. What was the story Nagato had fed most of them? Something about prophets and a united mercenary force?
His hands lift, to lazily catch and link together on the back of his neck. Spinning on heel to face her, head cocking off to the side over his shoulder. It's a stagnant air of this comical face he wore around all of these playful little pawns. Ones ready to strike outsiders if it meant protecting all the heavy costs sunk into this endeavor.
"I think I'll keep all my secrets though. Just little old Tobi. That's me." The danger in the air rises, a sickening pressure of battle on the horizon. Now, it wouldn't be fair if he spent all his time killing those who worked for him, would it?
"I'm allowed to be here though. Mr. Pein says to think of me like... a reserve member. Since there needs to be ten."