"Mangekyō Sharingan has an eye technique that can make a person feel endless, unending pain—and it lasts a very long time… heh-heh. How does he know that so well?"
Somewhere in the Land of Fire, inside a secret human-experimentation lab, Orochimaru lounged in a chair with one leg crossed over the other, mulling things over.
He'd learned about Uchiha Chizumi's dōjutsu during an Akatsuki "online" meeting, from a masked member.
Orochimaru didn't know who the masked man really was—only that his standing in Akatsuki wasn't low.
Vaguely, it seemed on par with the woman called Konan.
Even as an Akatsuki member himself, Orochimaru still saw a lot of unsolved secrets when he looked at certain people in the organization.
"Heh. He—or that pitcher-plant partner of his—must've clashed with that justice-obsessed brat Uchiha Chizumi. Maybe Chizumi used his Mangekyō on them."
"That pitcher-plant wasn't at this meeting. Which suggests the one who got hit by the Mangekyō was the pitcher-plant. It's probably still suffering under the technique…"
Orochimaru quickly teased out some intel about the "masked man" and the "pitcher-plant."
He also reached a conclusion—the masked man was likely young, and not as deep a schemer as he tried to seem.
If he'd been truly seasoned and older, he wouldn't have leaked so much self-damaging information just by talking.
And the way he spoke—forcing an old man's tone—only made Orochimaru more curious.
"What exactly are you hiding? One after another, all these people covering their heads and tails… This organization has more folks like me than I expected!"
"Shame…"
"Their horizons—their creed—are all too small."
With a mocking curl of the lip, he rose to start another experiment—when a strange tremor rolled underfoot and froze that smile on his face.
His brow creased.
The smile vanished.
An earthquake?
No.
This weird vibration felt more like…
Before the thought finished, screaming sirens blared through the lab, needling Orochimaru's eardrums, and the red warning lights above began to strobe like mad.
"Heh-heh…"
"So someone really is breaking in."
His snake-cold eyes narrowed. He didn't rush out to stop the intruder himself; after all, he kept plenty of underlings in this facility.
He wasn't about to personally handle every random cat or dog that slipped inside, was he?
Otherwise, what was the point of keeping so many subordinates unworthy of being his reincarnation vessels?
Charity?
Orochimaru strolled into the monitoring room and tilted his head at a bank of crude CRTs, their snowy, noisy feeds flickering.
Then, on one screen, he spotted a figure that genuinely surprised him.
Even he blinked.
At the same moment, the figure in the feed seemed to sense it. The man drew a ninja blade slowly out of a fresh, bloody corpse, then looked up toward the camera.
Their gazes met through the screen.
"Uchiha Chizumi…"
Orochimaru's fingers twitched; he licked his dry lips without thinking.
He knew him.
One of his most coveted vessels!
…
"Got you, intruder! Showed your hand, didn't you!"
A shinobi with no forehead protector grinned savagely, black curse-marks crawling over his skin, leaking an evil aura akin to Orochimaru's.
He flickered in behind Uchiha Chizumi. His forearms were thicker than normal, his skin ridged like rock.
He leapt, fists together, hammering down at the back of Chizumi's head.
A blow that looked like it could shatter tons of solid stone!
Chizumi turned back without expression and raised his left forearm to meet it.
Thud!!!
A dull crack boomed; dust puffed in a ring around Chizumi's feet—yet the arm that took the hit was unscathed. His magma-body didn't even bother shifting into an elemental state.
His eyes met the attacker's.
He saw shock drowning the man's face.
Chizumi drove his right-hand blade straight back without hesitation.
The edge punched clean through the man's heart.
At the same time, several more shinobi surged in, all with their "cursed seals" activated.
In Chizumi's crimson gaze, every free-moving ninja in the base wore a glaring red frame and text over their heads.
In this entire human experimentation facility—aside from the poor "test materials" locked up as lab rats—
Not a single innocent.
All of them red-named scum.
"Wood Release…
"Tree Bind Flourishing Burial."
Chizumi's free left hand flashed through a one-handed seal, then slapped the floor. Instantly the ground roiled, and thick trunks punched up through the tiling.
Under the stunned stares of the cursed shinobi, the trunks wove into a wooden wall that blocked their rush.
Buds then swelled along the bark—and burst open in under a second.
Visible clouds of pollen billowed out.
The first man to catch it full in the face instinctively checked his charge—then smirked when he felt nothing wrong. "He's bluffing. This jutsu is—"
He didn't finish.
His expression twisted into a mask of agony.
He screamed, clutched his lungs—
—and the shinobi behind him watched in horror as something inside his chest strained to burst free.
Pft—
Pft—
Pft—
Wet, piercing cracks: thorned vines and wooden spikes erupted from inside his lungs, lancing out through flesh. A forest of spikes tore from every part of him, turning him into a human pincushion—more like a blood-red barrel cactus at first glance.
"Bad!"
Faces blanched up and down the line—but too late.
More dropped to their knees, gripping their chests and howling.
Pft—
Pft—
Pft—
Bloody mist popped through the corridor in one bloom after another.
The copper stink rushed out in waves.
"…Wood Release?!"
Watching that blood-soaked hellscape on a corridor feed, Orochimaru's slitted golden pupils narrowed with a flicker of surprise.
"Tsk… another delightful surprise. Uchiha Chizumi, just how many treasures are hidden in that body of yours?"
"I don't know why you were in the Land of Rain one moment and here the next."
"But all I need to know is—you've brought yourself to my doorstep."
His hunger was almost past restraint.
He was the sort who, once he wanted something, would pay any price to get it.
Unless it was truly impossible.
Otherwise, he never smothered his greed.
He'd gone after the Rinnegan once for the same reason.
…
Meanwhile,
Konoha.
Koharu Utatane sat in the Uchiha Police interrogation room with a thundercloud face, as if everyone present owed her millions.
Her Root subordinates had already been questioned.
Now it was finally the "mastermind's" turn.
Click.
The door opened.
Uchiha Fugaku stepped in, looking deeply burdened. He'd never imagined such a hot potato would be dumped squarely on the Police Force—and into his hands.
Worst of all, there was no one to blame, and nowhere to send the idol back to.
Because… the ones who had delivered Koharu were dozens of Police officers, one of the Legendary Sannin—Tsunade—and the ninja cat Jujirou.
And the person who ordered Koharu to "pay a visit" to the Police—
Was the Hokage.
When the news hit at noon, Fugaku had felt the sky falling. He gritted through the afternoon interrogating a pile of Root nin, bearing pressure that shouldn't have been his, until he was wrung out.
Now…
It was Koharu's turn.
"Heh." Koharu lifted her eyes to his strained face and said coolly, "Interrogating a village adviser must be the Uchiha clan's favorite dream, no? Well then, I'll grant it. And I'll remember exactly how this felt."
A prickle ran through Fugaku's chest.
That line wouldn't scare most Police officers; the ones who had already chosen Absolute Justice didn't care about her.
But it rattled Fugaku.
He sat opposite her, drew a bracing breath under the weight, and said, "The Uchiha clan doesn't have the ideas you just put in our mouths, Advisor Koharu.
"We're…"
"We're just doing our job." He could only drag Hiruzen into it. "We're following the Hokage's orders. Nothing more."
Koharu cut him off.
"Fugaku."
Her aged face was dark. "I have a question—have you decided to turn the Uchiha clan fully toward Absolute Justice?"
"Under your leadership, is the Uchiha clan going to abandon the Will of Fire that Konoha has carried for generations?"
"Answer me, Fugaku."
He was supposed to be interrogating her—but now it sounded like she was interrogating him.
…
Outside, a one-way mirror let people watch the room—and hear through special channels what was said inside, while those inside couldn't hear the watchers.
Tsunade stared, a strange look on her face.
She glanced at a random officer and asked, "You sure that guy's your Clan Head? He was off the whole time questioning the Root shinobi—felt like he was going through the motions."
"Now it's even worse. That old woman's flipped the table on him—she's got him under her thumb. Your Police Captain, cowed by a criminal?"
"This is how the Uchiha Police enforce the law?"
She wasn't sniping at the clan; she was just voicing what anyone would think.
Even so, the simple honesty of it turned faces outside red with shame.
The proud Uchiha didn't take well to "sincere questions." And Fugaku really was making them look bad.
This was their house—the Police HQ!
Back then, even the Third Hokage only came here with a small army of Anbu.
But now…
Just Koharu, with a handful of Root ninja—and Fugaku was intimidated?
"How can he be this soft? Isn't his nickname 'Wicked Eye Fugaku'? What's wicked about him?" One officer couldn't watch any longer; he was so angry his nose looked crooked. To him, Fugaku's behavior was an embarrassment to the clan.
He gritted his teeth and moved to barge in.
"Hold it."
A clear, cool voice cut him off.
Uchiha Izumi hurried in, slightly out of breath, dragging an unconscious Root shinobi she'd just beaten down.
Her clothes were torn, skin scraped—obvious signs of a fight.
She won, of course.
Izumi looked through the glass at Fugaku's performance.
She drew a long breath. "Let him keep being weak. Don't interrupt. What you should do is call every Uchiha here and let them see what their clan head is really like."
"Let them see his true face. Let those who still have a sliver of hope in Fugaku finally give up. And if, even after this, some still support and follow him…"
"Then it just means cowards flock together."
She'd seen through Fugaku long ago—and given up on him.
And the way he occasionally tripped up Chizumi-senpai had only soured her further.
…
"Hokage-sama, I don't know if you can handle a fact you may find hard to accept."
Kakashi appeared before Hiruzen. For once, even with half his face covered, his expression was grave.
Hiruzen drew a deep breath.
"So… you've found something. Kakashi, you haven't failed me."
His face hardened. "I'm old, but not fragile. Say everything you need to say."
Kakashi paused a beat. "The Sealing Unit pulled a scroll from inside a ninja pigeon and cracked it. The cipher's deciphered. The one who released the pigeon to contact the outside was a Cloud spy."
"The message read: the plan to cooperate with a Konoha insider is proceeding. The Third Hokage has, as expected, lost most of his reason; there's a high chance the Konoha leadership will clash violently with Uchiha Chizumi."
"But there's bad news." Kakashi went on: "When we moved to capture the spy, he reacted instantly and took his own life—destroyed his own head with ninjutsu. The Yamanaka couldn't read him."
"…Cloud." Hiruzen's hand clenched the desk so hard the veins stood out.
The corner of the desk creaked under the strain.
Kakashi continued, plain and exact: "We can now confirm the Cloud spy's assets inside Konoha came from your Sarutobi clan. And it wasn't just one person."
"Anbu grabbed a Sarutobi asset, but a seal had been placed on him. When we tried to read his memories, the seal triggered and he died. That's on us—our mistake."
"Hokage-sama, it's possible there's a second, a third, even a fourth Sarutobi asset for Cloud."
"We don't have a thread on them yet. Anbu still doesn't know who they are."
The words hit like hammer blows. Hiruzen went still.
In truth…
He had suspected some Sarutobi would be involved.
The clan's hatred for Chizumi was no secret. That's why he'd set Anbu to watch the clan.
What he hadn't expected was that every asset Cloud had developed… might all be Sarutobi.
Which would mean his daughter-in-law Sarutobi Fusako's death had unfolded step by step right under his nose! He lived in the Sarutobi compound.
And certain clansmen had hidden this from him—until now! "Hah…"
Shadow fell across his lined face. He'd braced for something—but hearing it from Kakashi still soured his heart.
"Keep digging."
He waved, weary.
"Yes, sir."
When Kakashi was gone, Hiruzen frowned and thought hard.
"So the current state is: a few Sarutobi colluded with a Cloud spy, trying to use me to move against Chizumi. My stance toward Chizumi must have disgusted them, but they didn't dare say it to my face, so they chose an extreme method."
"Or…"
"The Cloud spy courted them, handed them a pre-baked plan for sowing chaos in the Konoha. In their hatred, they accepted it."
"Maybe the spy also downplayed the fallout—didn't tell them how bad it would get. It's hard to believe Sarutobi clansmen would knowingly trigger disaster and still go along…"
He trailed off.
Because maybe they would. You can never underestimate how ugly people can be.
He'd already raised an "Orochimaru."
Who could swear some Sarutobi weren't the sort to treat lives and the village like playthings? "Cloud…"
His grip snapped off the corner of the desk.
Since the end of the Third Great War…
This was the Cloud's second provocation.
Last time, they targeted the Hyūga—Hyūga Hizashi paid with his life to defuse that mess.
This time, the Cloud had aimed at the Sarutobi.
Or at him—Hiruzen Sarutobi.
….
Inside the Police interrogation room.
A click—the door opened from within.
Fugaku came out first, face set.
Koharu followed.
He immediately sensed something off: there were far too many people gathered outside—more than the entire Police Force.
He frowned, took a closer look—
—and saw that most of the crowd weren't Police at all, but ordinary Uchiha clansmen. He blinked.
"Clan Head Fugaku, our clan's 'justice' must be really cheap—being all polite to a criminal who's about to be locked in a Konoha prison. And that criminal ordered her men to grab your own son."
An Uchiha with folded arms let out a cold laugh right in Fugaku's face. "Don't tell me, to you, your only son is Uchiha Itachi, and not Uchiha Sasuke?"
"I've heard you've never been satisfied with the youngest—that he'll never measure up to that beast Itachi."
Fugaku's stern mask chilled to ice.
He looked straight at the man.
"Do you know what you're saying? Watch your place." His aura wasn't weak.
But then another voice cut in: "Instead of asking him that, ask yourself. Clan Head Fugaku, have you watched your own identity?!"
The voice was familiar.
He turned—
And found Uchiha Izumi.
Her small face was tight. In front of the gathered clan, she met Fugaku's eyes and said, "You're the clan head—and the Police Captain.
"Have you fulfilled the duties and responsibilities of the former? Have you protected every clansman who hasn't done evil? Have you fought—within the law—for the Uchiha's interests?
"And have you upheld the justice required of the latter? What I saw was you bowing and scraping to a criminal in that room."
"You're a disgrace to the Police."
It was the first time Izumi had gone at Fugaku this hard.
Her disappointment in him had long since bottomed out.
She'd kept quiet out of respect for the shelter the clan gave her under his tenure.
But the way he'd treated Koharu in the interrogation room—
—that was the last straw.
"I'd add this: you're a disgrace to Justice." She clenched her teeth. "You're unfit to be clan head—and unfit to be Police Captain!"
In the corner, Tsunade arched a brow at the little drama, clicking her tongue. "Didn't expect the girl to be this extreme—calling out Fugaku like that in front of everyone."
"Looks like Chizumi's 'Absolute Justice' training has sunk all the way to the bone."
Jiraiya had somehow slipped into the crowd. He sidled up and cleared his throat. "If you know their method is brainwash—"
"None of your damn business." Tsunade shot him a glare, and tossed an extra one at the toad sages on his shoulders.
Jiraiya: "…"
I didn't even finish my sentence!
Double standards much?
…..
—RUMBLE!!!
Elsewhere in the Land of Fire, blazing lava surged with the force of a volcanic blast, flash-vaporizing several twisted, curse-marked shinobi in an instant.
The flood rolled on, blanketing the entire corridor.
When it slammed into a bulkhead, it melted straight through the steel.
Lava snaked down passageways, racing to every corner of the base.
Orochimaru's precious instruments—years of hoarding—melted to slag.
Plenty of his groomed goons died along the way.
In the monitoring room, the stink of sulfur was already seeping through the door seam.
When he watched a high-end machine sag into molten iron, his eyelid began to twitch.
"Heh-heh… so crude it makes my killing intent boil."
His eyes went darker, meaner. Watching his "tools" die to Chizumi didn't stir pity.
They existed for one purpose: to bleed out Uchiha Chizumi's stamina.
If their lives bought him one more jutsu cast, they had value.
As long as his hidden vessels weren't found; as long as his prized lab rats were alive—
The loss of tools wasn't enough to anger him.
But the mountain of ruined equipment…
That was getting hard to sit through.