After laughing his fill, Uchiha Yorin headed home.
The bandit den was several hundred kilometers from Konoha. But at a shinobi's pace, he could run there and back in a day.
He even had time to take a bath, change clothes, get a full-body massage, and then raid the bandit den a few more waves.
Bandits must always be farmed. Always.
The Third Great Ninja War had just ended. The Land of Fire might not be at absolute peace, but it was aflame everywhere. Countless "ambitious youths" were joining the promising career path of banditry.
They ruined roads, cut trade lines, burned fields, plundered villages, and stoked more turmoil and chaos—dragging the Land of Fire's economy down.
When the Land of Fire's economy slumps, the daimyō's tax revenues drop. When the daimyō's revenues drop, Konoha's military budget shrinks. When Konoha's budget shrinks, Yorin's subsidies shrink.
So rounding it all up—that's my money! They're stealing my money!
Worse, in less than a year or two, the Konoha–Kumogakure war would kick off. War after war would make Konoha's already modest means even worse.
My money!
I already had little—now I'll have even less!!
Uchiha Yorin: "I must go forth in 'Philosopher-King Emperor' mode!!"
He'd culled plenty of bandits and even some missing-nin and rogue-nin along the way. But the vermin ravaging the Land of Fire—and the world—were surely more.
From that angle, the Third's "turtle" strategy wasn't without merit. His constant concessions bought Konoha rare time to catch its breath.
Agonizing and frustrating, yes. But understand—the shinobi world is a "who's-worse" world.
You think Konoha forcing the White Fang to suicide, disheartening the Sannin into leaving, crippling itself by cutting off an arm and wrecking the Uchiha is bizarre?
That's because you're not looking at the other four villages.
Sunagakure's coffers were empty; the vermin up top sold out war hero Pakura; the much-hoped-for Sasori of the Red Sand defected and assassinated the Third Kazekage; the daimyō slashed the military budget and forced a so-called "elite forces" policy; their war potential was spent.
Iwagakure's leadership was divided; their jinchūriki ran off; key tailed beasts were lost; the new generation was a misshapen bunch; the only standout, Deidara, defected; with top-tier combatants lacking succession, they had to prop up Ōnoki, that old coffin-board rattler.
Kirigakure was heavyweight disaster: the Blood Mist policy drove everyone to despair; the Seven Ninja Swordsmen either fled or died. Yorin figured if Obito had stirred the pot two more years, no one would need to attack Mist—they'd kill themselves.
And so Konoha "won" the who's-worse contest. Proving the old rule:
You don't have to get better than others. You just have to get worse slower.
The one exception was Kumogakure. The Third Raikage had strength, skill, and prestige to spare. The A–B combo was far more united than the "you'll regret this" and "I am the Hokage" faux-bro pair. Two jinchūriki, Yugitō Nii and Killer B, were widely loved. Damn near flawless!
So are the brothers in Kumo the true meta? Should I emigrate to the Land of Lightning, get a deep tan, and found the New Uchiha there?
Seems too late. Because Kumo already had its eyes on Uchiha Yorin.
Not long after he cleared a sixth bandit nest, and after sprinting through a dark grove, Yorin stopped and scanned around. "Which friends might these be? Since you've been found, no need to hide. Come out and say hello."
A few seconds later, a squad of masked shinobi appeared, surrounding Yorin from all directions.
In canon, Konoha's war with Kumo would be a year later, but clearly they were already laying groundwork.
At the same time, the dumb system pinged.
[Sudden Quest · Cull the Small Fry: Has the name of the Forest's Senju lost its power to deter scum? Kill these small fry and remind the world how terrifying Wood Release is! Reward: +1 free attribute point]
Seeing the reward, Yorin swallowed his snark. As long as it gave him points, call him "Forest's Senju" or even "Sage of Six Paths"—he'd accept.
Of course, first he had to kill the small fry.
Though the system called them small fry, this squad wasn't bad. Their leader was jōnin-class; the others were strong chūnin. Plenty for an ambush on a jōnin.
Yorin cautiously scanned the ring while speaking. "Is Kumo planning to tear up the ceasefire with Konoha? Right after the Third Great Ninja War?"
Hearing that, one not-so-bright guy blurted out:
"But we're wearing masks—how did you know—"
Halfway through, a teammate punched him, making him swallow the rest.
Yorin rolled his eyes.
You think you're well hidden? The short sleeves showing those black arms and that head of blond hair gave it all away, uncle.
"No wonder they call you Konoha's Flame Claw." The leader praised him. "No wonder—Sharingan."
He'd clearly misunderstood, thinking the Sharingan was how Yorin saw through them. Yorin wouldn't correct him. Let Kumo keep that innocence:
"As for tearing up the treaty—of course not. If you die, no one will know we did it, right?"
He laughed, his buddies laughed with him—then their laughter stopped. Because they realized Yorin was laughing too:
"—What are you laughing at?!"
"Hyenas have surrounded a lion—and taunt it with confidence. Isn't that funny?"
"Hmph…"
As he spoke, the leader drew his blade, baring a cruel smile. "Let's hope your strength matches your reputation."
Yorin: "Then—"
"—Do it! Don't look at his eyes!"
The next second, eighteen Kumo shinobi moved as one. In pairs, they ended each other's lives with kunai or blades.
As bodies thumped to the ground, blood sprayed, and death-cries rang, Uchiha Yorin walked slowly toward the Kumo jōnin leader?!
"Genjutsu!? When?!"
The shocking scene put a tremor in the Kumo jōnin's voice.
"This isn't what the intel said—you were supposed to be weak at dōjutsu, specialized in swordplay!
…Hiding deep, aren't you, Uchiha Yorin. But showing your trump card like this—sure about that?"
Yorin: "No problem. If you die, no one will know I'm strong in dōjutsu, right?"
The Kumo leader froze. He felt like he'd heard that line just now.
He quickly realized—he himself had said it. That copyright-skirting Uchiha swapped a few words and made it his own.
"Arrogant. Careful you don't die miserably."
"Come and try."
"Then try!! My Kumo Thunder Blade is no worse than your Konoha Flame Claw!!!"
He roared and charged. As he moved, he swept a hand along his blade—lightning chakra wrapped the steel. It looked quite like Yorin's fire-nature chakra blade.
That ticked Yorin off. Usually it's us Uchiha copying others; today they reversed it and copied us!
If I don't twist his head off and kick it like a ball today, I'll change my surname to Senju!
In an instant, the jōnin duel exploded.
Body Flicker vs. Body Flicker.
Chakra-forged blade vs. chakra-forged blade.
Kumo's Thunder Blade vs. Konoha's Flame Claw!
Aside from the other guy being eight times uglier, he was practically a mirror—surprising Yorin.
He'd expected a Killer B–style, wielding things like Samehada's cousins or thunder-sound blades—typical Kumo sword arts. But no.
Clang-clang-clang rang without pause. After each clash they Body-Flickered back, used footwork and speed to circle, looked for openings, and peppered kunai to harry.
The opponent's speed, strength, and stamina weren't below Yorin's—solid jōnin. His Thunder Blade chakra work looked legit.
What shocked Yorin more was his fighting style—it was very much like one man's, only weaker.
He blurted it out:
"Konoha's White Fang?!"
The other: "Exactly! You're not the only one who studied him! A man like that—even as an enemy, I couldn't help but be drawn to him, imitating his way of battle. A pity—someone like that was driven to death by his own!"
Anger and respect colored his voice. Yorin sighed inwardly and decided not to take his head.
"—!"
A second later, blood sprayed from the Kumo shinobi's neck. The fierce fight ended.
He clutched the wound to stanch the flow—useless.
Genjutsu.
He'd fallen into genjutsu.
"When—when did it…?" He stared at Uchiha Yorin, eyes wide.
Uchiha Yorin: "From the start."
"…What?"
Uchiha Yorin: "Yes. From the very beginning, you were in my genjutsu."
As he spoke, he bared his Sharingan. Under the glow of three scarlet tomoe, what had been equal strength tilted in Yorin's favor.
"…I see. Thank you."
Realization dawned on him; he thanked Yorin sincerely.
For what?
For the fight, of course.
Yorin could have toyed with him, but chose to trade taijutsu like a man. That's why the Kumo Thunder Blade had volunteered to take this mission, and targeted Yorin.
Having his wish before death, Kumo's Thunder Blade, Uruī, felt ready to rest.
…
A second later, the Kumo shinobi were stunned to see their leader—Uruī, the Thunder Blade—go rigid.
A huge gash opened in his neck; blood fountained out; he toppled and died.
The system chimed:
[Sudden Quest · Cull the Small Fry · Complete. Reward: +1 free attribute point]