Chapter 86 - CHAPTER 86

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"Uchihahiko, let me remind you— attacking a fellow ninja from the same village is a grave offense. You'd better not cross that line again. I already paid for humiliating the Uchiha and beating Uchiha Ryoichi. That matter is closed."

Hiko raised his hand calmly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"True, the Uchiha have many issues, but we don't initiate conflict without cause. For years, we've borne silent grudges, swallowed bitter injustice handed down by certain individuals. I've endured enough of that."

He turned slightly, the glint in his eye dark and cold.

"But I'm not the forgiving type. I treat others as they treat me."

A smirk crept over his face.

"And before I deal with him, I intend to collect some interest. You know who I mean, right?"

A cold sweat broke out across Asuma's forehead.

'My father…'

Asuma's thoughts raced. Uchihahiko… he really intends to kill me. What is he planning? Doesn't he care if the village finds out?

Old man… all those times I made things hard for you. I never imagined you'd end up putting me in harm's way too. It used to be the son playing tricks on his father. Now the roles are reversed. He got me good…

He gritted his teeth. I have to escape somehow.

"Obliterate."

A chilling voice.

"You're here, and you still think you can run?"

Asuma's eyes widened as Hiko's right eye spun—his Mangekyō Sharingan activating with terrifying swiftness.

A surge of blackness engulfed them—an alternate dimension formed by Hiko's right eye ability. It swallowed Asuma completely. Within this dimension, time, sound, and motion were suspended.

He couldn't move. Couldn't cry out. Couldn't even think fast enough to react.

Then the squeezing began—spatial pressure crushing down upon him like a vice. Asuma's body disintegrated into fragments of white light and vanished completely.

This was Shōmetsu—the destruction-based pupil technique of Hiko's right eye. Brutal. Absolute.

The power's structure shared a conceptual similarity with Dust Release, but unlike the tri-elemental Kekkei Tōta, this was pure ocular annihilation.

The Sharingan manifests according to its wielder's inner world. Twisted by his hatred and knowledge of future tragedies since arriving in this world, Hiko had developed an eye technique with terrifying finality.

Where Shisui had Kotoamatsukami, Hiko had this.

His Mangekyō granted two abilities:

The left eye, a genjutsu-based illusion technique.

The right, this devastating attack that consumed enemies in a spatial breakdown.

Though similar in effect to Dust Release, Shōmetsu functioned by covering its target in an isolated spatial fold and unraveling their matter from within—a conceptual cousin, not a copy.

And if Hiko's spiritual energy and ocular power grew vast enough, the scale of this destruction could grow too—enough to engulf entire squads, maybe battalions.

"You were the first. But not the last."

Asuma Sarutobi—erased without a trace.

Hiko stepped through the lingering void with Kamui, vanishing from the room as silently as he came.

Tonight wasn't just about vengeance. It was a test.

And the results?

Perfect.

His right eye's technique was deadly, efficient—and draining. But as he caught his breath in a quiet alley far from the scene, he noticed something unusual.

His Mangekyō's chakra consumption… was recovering.

Normally, Mangekyō use depleted a user's ocular power permanently. That slow, insidious degradation was why Itachi, Shisui, and Madara sought alternatives—transplanted eyes, or Hashirama's cells.

But Hiko?

He felt his vision sharpening again—slowly, but surely. It was minuscule, but it existed.

This meant he wouldn't go blind—even without the Eternal Mangekyō or Senju augmentation.

Time was now his ally.

Interestingly, Kamui, despite its reputation, consumed far less chakra than expected.

'No wonder Kakashi almost dies using it,' Hiko thought. 'That guy's chakra pool is a joke. Kamui isn't the problem—his stamina is.'

He exhaled, satisfied.

"Perfect."

Elsewhere, within the Shimura compound, despair brewed like poison.

Shimura Danzo—the clan's towering figure—had fallen. Captured. Imprisoned.

Though the higher-ups tried to keep it quiet, Danzo's plants in ANBU leaked the news to the clan. It wasn't just a warning.

It was bait.

The Shimura elders hoped their people would attempt a rescue. Make noise. Try to pressure the council or force an escape.

Danzo himself didn't care about his family—he used them, manipulated them. But his loyal subordinates? Brainwashed and blind, they'd lay down their lives to break him out.

Now, the Shimura patriarch sat in a gloomy meeting hall, the room filled with divided voices.

Some shouted for retaliation.

Others warned caution.

Tempers flared as old grievances spilled out. The clan had long walked the edge of Konoha's politics—too involved to be neutral, too ruthless to be popular.

With Danzo gone, they were exposed.

"Uchiha will come for us," someone whispered.

"They're quiet now," another countered, "but they never forget."

The patriarch was caught in the center, his back bowed under pressure.

Speak in favor of retaliation—risk annihilation.

Advocate retreat—seem weak.

There was no winning.

He sighed. Again and again.

Maybe… maybe it was time to bow his head.

If the Uchiha truly wanted blood, nothing would stop them. And the higher-ups? They wouldn't lift a finger unless Uchiha caused a massacre. Everything short of that? The Shimura clan was on its own.

A few skirmishes, a few missing persons—what could they do? File a complaint?

The village might reprimand the Uchiha mildly. Maybe.

But no justice would come.

The patriarch's shoulders slumped further.

Maybe it was best to pull the clan back. Avoid the Uchiha. Leave public affairs alone. Let them fume in their rage.

But could they really hide forever?

"Damn Uchiha… damn Uchihahiko!"

He slammed the table.

A voice slithered in behind him.

"Oh? So that's how I'm remembered. How should I kill you, then?"

The patriarch froze.

That voice—chilling. Amused. Familiar.

He turned slowly.

And saw him.

Uchihahiko stood in the doorway, clad in black combat gear, a playful smirk curving his lips. His presence was casual—mocking.

The patriarch blanched.

"You—how dare you come here?! This is Shimura territory! Are you trying to get yourself executed?!"

"Rules?" Hiko tilted his head. "You think someone like you gets to talk to me about rules?"

"You arrogant little—!"

"Clown," Hiko interrupted. "Just another coward hiding behind Danzo's coattails. Trash like you deserves nothing."

"You dare—!"

The patriarch's rage boiled over.

"You dare trespass on Shimura land and threaten me?! I don't care who you are—this is suicide!"

He lunged.

Kunai flew in blinding arcs.

Wind-style chakra surged from his mouth—Vacuum Wave—blades of compressed air sharp enough to cleave stone.

The Shimura were no bloodline clan, but their mastery of Wind Release was formidable.

The kunai struck.

Only… it was a phantom.

A flicker.

Hiko's body dissolved into mist.

The Wind Blades roared forward—harsh, furious—

A voice whispered behind him:

"No one told you? You're too slow."

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