Chapter 355: An Attempt at Dōjutsu
How other clans chose to survive had nothing to do with Kei.
Still, their choices allowed him to see certain things more clearly.
Among Konoha's elite, the Uchiha clan was ultimately still an outsider—one that had forced its way in and behaved far too boldly.
Put simply, the expansion of the Military Police had been far too rapid.
And as its Head, Kei was not a direct descendant of the Hokage's faction.
By "direct," that meant deeper, more intimate bonds—such as master and disciple.
Add to that the current political environment, where the Third Hokage's lingering influence had yet to fully fade, and it became obvious why even goodwill from Konoha's elites would only ever go so far.
Through this incident, Kei also realized something else—something rather interesting.
In the eyes of Konoha's upper echelon, the political standing of the Uchiha clan was actually inferior to that of the Senju clan, a family that had long since declined and was only now showing signs of revival thanks to his intervention.
And Kakashi?
There was no doubt that these same people had helped fan the flames behind the scenes.
Their behavior aligned closely with the actual interests of those in power.
They only considered matters from the perspective of the true authority—and constantly sought ways to draw closer to it.
Kei had little to say about such a survival strategy.
He disliked it, yes—but their stance ensured they would remain undisturbed within Konoha's "pond," untouched by political turbulence.
Once he understood this, Kei stopped caring.
In fact, their chosen alignment was already proving useful.
At the very least, their handling of Kakashi's situation had been satisfactory.
---
At its core, the daimyō was the supreme ruler of one of the Five Great Nations.
The title itself had existed since ancient times—long before chakra spread throughout the world, even back when Ōtsutsuki Kaguya first descended.
But as chakra reshaped history, their authority waned.
By the Warring States Period, and especially after Senju Hashirama established the "one village, one country" system, the daimyō had effectively become nothing more than wealthy patrons who hired ninja to defend their land.
Kei had torn away the fragile veil between daimyō and Kage—and extracted far greater benefits as a result.
Naturally, Konoha reaped enormous rewards.
And so, it was only right that those deemed "contributors" received compensation.
Among them, the greatest beneficiary—and the one whose reputation now soared highest—was Hatake Kakashi.
Based on Kei's information, Kakashi's achievements had reached a critical threshold.
He had already begun participating in work normally reserved for department heads.
Correspondingly, his workload had become overwhelming.
He had too much to learn, too much to master.
---
The ANBU division itself had always been plagued by misfortune.
After Kei personally eliminated Shimura Danzō, ANBU returned to Namikaze Minato's control.
Yet manpower shortages, the need to balance clan interests, and Kakashi's youth and lack of seniority meant the position of ANBU commander was effectively vacant.
Even if someone sat in the role, the major clans all understood the truth:
That person was merely a loyalist of the Third Hokage—a figurehead with no real authority.
"So the Nara, Akimichi, and Yamanaka clans distance themselves from me for safety and positioning… yet still carefully nurture Kenta through other channels?"
Kei had pieced it together.
"In the end, it's for appearances. Otherwise, they wouldn't keep investing in Kenta. Their thinking really is complicated."
Anyone who truly knew Kei would roll their eyes at that thought.
Complicated?
If there was anyone whose mind was more labyrinthine than theirs, it was him.
Besides, even when Nara Shikaku voiced objections, they were always on matters of ideology—never on points that could truly wound him.
Seen clearly, it was a convoluted way of maintaining closeness.
Seen poorly, it was just irritation.
---
"Between Kenta and Kakashi, favors have been exchanged. And our relationship was solid to begin with."
Kei chuckled softly.
"Mission Affairs, ANBU… the departments tied to me are many. Add the minor clans gathered around Fugaku, and those aligned with the Senju—truth be told, my reliance on the Ino–Shika–Chō alliance isn't all that important."
When he laid it out, even Kei could see how terrifying his network had become.
At the top was Namikaze Minato—his partner, unwavering in stance.
Minato's personality helped, yes—but more importantly, his political base had largely been shaped by Kei himself.
Then there were their peers.
Graduating classmates were steadily becoming chūnin, branching into missions or administration.
Minato's reforms meant their future returns would far exceed anything seen in the original timeline.
And Kenta?
Within the Senju clan, he was effectively the decision-maker.
Seventeen or eighteen years old—but no one could contest him.
Like Kakashi, he had begun touching department-level affairs.
From top to bottom, Kei's web extended everywhere.
---
"Let them do as they please. There's no point worrying about it."
Kei lifted his head, surveying his surroundings.
He had arrived at a remote canyon deep within Konoha's territory.
Beside it stood a dilapidated temple.
The grotesque Buddhist statues—twisted like asuras—felt strangely familiar.
He didn't dwell on it.
He was here for an experiment.
One he had long wanted to conduct—but had never dared to.
To ensure safety, Ayaka was stationed far away, monitoring all movement in the area.
If anyone approached, she would intercept—or at least delay them.
"Anyone who didn't know better would think this was a temple near Ashina Castle," Kei muttered.
"Feels like there should be a one-armed sculptor carving Buddha statues inside."
He examined the demonic figures, then finally remembered where the sense of déjà vu came from.
Trivial.
Closing his eyes, he reopened them—and the Mangekyō Sharingan emerged.
Pitch-black chakra instantly solidified around him, lifting his body into the air.
The colossal form of Susanoo fully manifested.
Standing calmly within it, Kei gazed at the largest Buddha statue in the distance.
Susanoo drew its blade.
The Mangekyō spun slowly, ocular power spreading with the motion.
His consumption had already dropped significantly through training—
But today was different.
Today, he intended to conduct an experiment with no restriction on output.
"My eyes have granted me three abilities," Kei whispered, chakra and dōjutsu surging.
"And yet, I've barely explored them."
"That has to change."
"But before that, I need a decisive trump card."
Whether it would succeed—
That would be decided now.
The Mangekyō suddenly accelerated.
An invisible domain expanded outward.
Instantly—
The world fell silent.
No wind.
No movement.
No flow.
Everything stopped.
Time itself seemed forcibly halted.
Blood began to seep from his eyes.
He did not stop.
This was only the beginning.
Susanoo slowly raised its blade.
As it did, the frozen world shifted.
And upon the blade—
An utterly unnatural power gathered.
Slowly.
Gently.
Susanoo swung.
A casual, languid slash—
Yet it unleashed power beyond comprehension.
An invisible blade arc appeared—
And in the next instant, it was already upon the giant Buddha.
Impossible.
Incomprehensible.
As if time itself had fractured.
The blade passed through the statue—
And everything around it remained frozen.
The truly terrifying part came next.
The colossal Buddha statue began to weather away.
Countless grains of sand peeled off its surface, drifting downward as though some decaying will had descended upon it—its own time accelerating tens, hundreds, thousands of times over.
And yet, those fragments never reached the ground.
The moment they floated into the air, they froze—completely suspended, locked motionless in midair.
Kei stood quietly, observing the devastation he had wrought.
By now, his eyes could no longer withstand the strain. Blood had long since soaked the corners of his eyes.
He took a shallow breath.
Three dōjutsu—activated simultaneously, fused into a single execution.
Judging by the result, the outcome was… acceptable.
But the cost was equally clear.
After that strike, he might as well have lost all combat capability.
Still—
There was no denying it.
That slash was magnificent.
"A pity," Kei murmured, gazing at the Buddha that had fully disintegrated into nothingness, as though it had never existed at all.
"This technique is still in development. I really should work out a simplified version."
"The effect is sufficient. If I ever face an opponent so agile that I can't reliably hit them… this would be the most practical answer."
"The consumption is excessive, sure—but…"
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Although my ocular power was drained severely, my vision wasn't damaged."
"That means I'm on the right path."
That alone was enough to satisfy him.
In the past, he had always been cautious—almost fearful—of using his dōjutsu.
Even knowing his ocular power could recover, he was acutely aware that during recovery, his eyesight and perception would degrade.
That was unacceptable.
Combined with his fighting style and overwhelming base strength, he had never relied heavily on his Mangekyō abilities.
His control was simply too good.
Aside from the newly awakened fourth stage Susanoo, lower stages barely consumed any ocular power at all—sometimes none.
Over time, this led to a problem.
He had begun neglecting his own dōjutsu.
Reducing reliance had helped his overall growth—but it also narrowed his understanding.
In his memories, across countless parallel worlds filled with absurdly overpowered individuals, there were those who wielded similar abilities with dizzying creativity.
Kei had no illusions of matching that level.
Twisting timelines? Rewriting causality?
He wouldn't even dare think about it.
But his three abilities—
They could absolutely be expanded.
---
[Chrono Freeze] needed no explanation.
It was his most lethal, most absolute technique.
Yet paradoxically, its expandability was limited.
In truth, it already felt like a completed, ultimate form.
Whether due to a lack of imagination or inherent limitation, Kei couldn't yet see a way to meaningfully extend it.
But the other two—
[Chrono Leap] and [Chrono Drift]—
Their potential dwarfed it.
He used them constantly, especially against Obito.
Often subtly, with minimal output—but enough.
He already had ideas.
"Like this…"
Kei wiped the blood from the corner of his eye.
His right Mangekyō began to spin violently.
Instantly, a strange, unfamiliar force surged through his body.
Alien—yet deeply familiar.
As it intensified, pressure slammed into his right eye far beyond expectation.
Still, he did not stop.
The Mangekyō rotated faster.
The power grew denser.
And then—
As though crossing some invisible threshold—
His body underwent a dramatic transformation.
His chakra began to surge.
The power he had just expended returned, as if undone.
The blood he had wiped from his left eye suddenly reappeared—
Then flowed backward, retracing its path and vanishing into his eye.
Only his right eye remained excluded.
Fresh blood seeped down from it, carving a crimson trail across his cheek.
Moments later, the Mangekyō slowed.
The strange force destabilized.
When Kei finally shut his right eye, the phenomenon vanished completely.
Yet—
His chakra was fully restored.
And his left eye showed no trace of damage.
"As expected… still too much strain," Kei exhaled, covering his right eye.
"And just as I thought."
He assessed the results.
The outcome wasn't unexpected.
Nor was it disappointing.
He had long wondered whether Chrono Leap and Chrono Drift could be applied to himself.
Not just enemies.
Self-targeted temporal manipulation had always been part of his thinking.
He had even—briefly—entertained the idea of achieving a form of eternity.
But that was arrogance born from power.
Even now, he knew better.
Immortality through time manipulation was nonsense.
Still—
Other possibilities remained.
For example—
Extending the duration of his peak state.
Preserving himself at his strongest.
Freezing his prime.
The idea existed.
But the cost of Chrono Freeze alone made it impractical.
Especially as his power grew—the expense scaled absurdly.
And there were technical problems.
Movement. Growth. Chakra evolution.
He had no intention of freezing himself into a helpless statue.
So instead, he started at the foundation.
Chrono Leap.
Chrono Drift.
In essence, they were the components of Chrono Freeze itself.
Time pulled forward and backward—
That equilibrium was stasis.
And sometimes, individual effects were better than total suspension.
For instance, halting time after injury would worsen outcomes.
---
"Chakra restored. Left eye repaired. But…"
Kei rubbed his right eye again.
"The casting eye not only didn't recover—it's worse."
"So the consumption is isolated?"
After careful thought, the result made sense.
The eye that cast the technique bore the cost.
That expense was fixed—irreversible.
What puzzled him more was how his chakra had returned.
Was it temporal rollback?
Or something else entirely?
To test it, he waited.
Time passed.
His right eye gradually eased.
When he opened it again, vision was clear—perfectly intact.
The only issue?
He couldn't activate Mangekyō with it.
"Seems the world's time rules aren't as complicated as I feared."
Kei's eyes now showed an eerie contrast—one Mangekyō, one three-tomoe Sharingan.
"Only the casting eye is severely affected. And there's no real 'conservation' rule here."
"Time flows forward and backward—but it remains connected. Just like the Dragon Vein."
He closed his left Mangekyō.
His situation was… strange.
His total ocular power was abundant.
Yet his right eye was critically depleted—and power couldn't be transferred.
Uncomfortable.
But undeniably effective.
"Overall… promising. But there's much more to test."
Satisfied for now, Kei prepared to leave.
The left eye experiment could wait.
If the right worked, the left would too.
And he'd already tested basic acceleration—boosting speed, amplifying bursts.
Those were just the beginning.
"There's potential here," he mused, turning away.
"Accelerating recovery… accelerating experiments…"
"Later."
His mental fatigue was real.
Dōjutsu strained more than chakra—it taxed the mind itself.
Three abilities fused, followed by temporal rollback—
He wasn't exhausted—but he wasn't fine either.
One last glance at where the Buddha once stood.
Only drifting sand remained.
With a flicker, Kei vanished.
The wind scattered the grains.
Eventually, even the dust disappeared.
And then—
Several Root shinobi appeared.
They froze in place, staring blankly at the empty space—
Where a colossal Buddha should have been.