Konoha Village
Orochimaru walked leisurely through the streets of Konoha, his golden eyes flickering with curiosity as he took in the scene before him. The village seemed more vibrant than he remembered.
"It's only been a short while… but why does it feel like the village is thriving more than before?" he murmured to himself, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Despite Uchiha Fugaku's infamously iron-fisted leadership style and unwillingness to tolerate dissent, even Orochimaru had to admit that his political acumen was remarkable. Since ascending to the position of Fifth Hokage, Fugaku had ushered in a new era of prosperity. The economy had boomed, incomes had risen, and the general public lived comfortably. As a result, he had gained the admiration of many villagers.
After all, the average villager didn't care who sat in the Hokage's chair—as long as they could live in peace and stability, that was enough.
However, Orochimaru, who had been training in seclusion, was unaware of a crucial development—Shimura Danzō was dead.
"Haha," Orochimaru chuckled to himself. "So even Danzō had more political talent than the Third Hokage… to think he could improve the economy this quickly."
But what did it matter?
He hadn't come to evaluate Konoha's policies or celebrate its newfound prosperity. Orochimaru was here for one reason only—to take care of Shimura Danzō. It was time to send him to join Hiruzen Sarutobi in the afterlife.
His gaze turned toward the towering Hokage Building, sharp and cold. "Danzō… get ready. I've waited long enough to send you down below."
In a flash, Orochimaru vanished into the crowd and sped toward the Hokage building.
---
Hokage Building
Uchiha Fugaku sat behind his desk, buried under stacks of documents. He rubbed his nose suddenly and sneezed.
"Someone must be talking behind my back," he muttered.
His expression turned wary as he scanned the room, but everything seemed normal. Still, a foreboding feeling gnawed at him. His instincts screamed that something ominous was coming.
"Strange," he whispered. "Why do I feel like something bad is about to happen? Could it be… that bastard Obito is back?!"
The thought made his face darken with anger.
Just a few days ago, Obito and Shisui had ambushed him. Taking advantage of a rare lapse in his guard, they had dragged him into Kamui space and given him the beating of a lifetime. Their fists had relentlessly slammed into his face—brutal, deliberate, and humiliating.
Even now, faint bruises lingered, reminders of that day's shame.
Fugaku clenched his fists in fury. "If they dare to show their faces again, I'll make sure they regret it!"
He had already decided: even if it meant risking permanent damage to his eyesight, he would activate the full form of Susanoo and bring the wrath of the Uchiha clan down on them. They had grown too bold—too lawless. They even had the audacity to demand a performance fee from him, the Hokage, just to appear in public!
The nerve!
Fugaku had refused, of course. He wouldn't indulge such arrogance. But that refusal had cost him—Obito dragged him into Kamui space and beat him until he passed out.
He had awakened later, dumped like trash outside the space-time dimension, his pride thoroughly trampled.
It was a humiliation Fugaku would never forget.
He gritted his teeth. He would get his revenge. One day, he'd make Obito and Shisui kneel before him, begging for mercy, completely subdued by his power. Only then would the fire in his heart be extinguished.
He could already imagine the scene—Obito's arrogant face twisted in fear, Shisui's clever smirk replaced by despair. That day would come.
But just as he was lost in that vengeful fantasy, a loud commotion erupted outside his office.
"Stop right there! Who are you?!"
"You're not allowed inside without clearance!"
The shouts were followed by a sharp scream from an Anbu guard.
Fugaku's eyes narrowed. Someone's trying to break in?
Ordinary visitors had to make appointments in advance to see the Hokage. This wasn't just unexpected—it was an act of force.
"Hmph," he snorted coldly. "Who dares barge into the Hokage building like this?"
Before he could finish speaking, the office doors exploded inward with a deafening crash. Shards of wood scattered like shrapnel as a powerful force blew through the entrance, filling the room with thick smoke and swirling dust.
Fugaku leaped to his feet, eyes sharp, his Sharingan spinning.
Who dares attack me in my own office?
A shadow emerged from the smoke, footsteps echoing ominously.
"Tap… tap… tap…"
The figure grew clearer with each step. Fugaku focused his Mangekyō Sharingan on the intruder, every muscle tense.
Then the smoke cleared.
Fugaku's eyes widened. The intruder was a young man in white robes, with long, flowing black hair and a pale, almost serene expression. His eyes, however, held a dazed confusion.
Who is this? Fugaku thought, frowning. The man looked familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite recall…
Then it hit him.
Orochimaru?!
But something was off. Orochimaru looked too young. His face was smooth, barely showing the passage of time, like a man in his early twenties.
In reality, due to his recent breakthroughs in forbidden cultivation techniques, Orochimaru had reached the foundation-building stage, dramatically extending his lifespan and restoring his youth.
No longer did he carry the appearance of a twisted, aging snake-man. Instead, he stood poised and composed—almost divine.
Orochimaru, for his part, was just as surprised.
He blinked at Fugaku, bewildered. "What's going on?" he asked himself. "Didn't White Zetsu say the Fifth Hokage was Shimura Danzō? Why is it Uchiha Fugaku?"
From the moment he entered, Orochimaru had expected to confront Danzō. This wasn't part of the plan.
Fugaku, sensing the overwhelming chakra radiating from Orochimaru, grew even more cautious.
He narrowed his eyes and asked in a low voice, "Why did you break into the Hokage building unannounced?"
As he spoke, his hand crept behind his back, ready to summon his blade or unleash a jutsu if Orochimaru made even the slightest threatening move.
Orochimaru tilted his head. "Where… is Shimura Danzō?" he asked in that raspy, familiar voice.
At those words, Fugaku exhaled quietly and allowed himself a brief moment of relief.
So he wasn't here for me, Fugaku thought. Good.
Still, he didn't let his guard down. If this was truly Orochimaru, there was no telling what he might do next.
But the misunderstanding was clear—Orochimaru had come seeking vengeance against a man who was no longer alive.
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