Chapter 2 — Konoha's Flame-Claw: Mastery of the Dōjutsu
After laughing himself hoarse, Uchiha Yujiro headed home.
The bandit den sat several hundred kilometers from Konoha, but a shinobi's stride made the round trip doable in a single day. There was even time for a bath, a fresh change of clothes, and a quick sweep through the bandit camp for anything useful.
Bandits were always worth checking—never leave easy money behind.
The Third Great Ninja War had just ended, and the Land of Fire was far from peaceful. With the economy broken and order fragile, countless disillusioned youth turned to banditry as a viable trade.
They sabotaged roads, choked off trade, burned crops, looted villages—driving the Land of Fire further into chaos. A weakened economy shrank daimyo tax revenue, which in turn cut Konoha's military budget. Less funding meant fewer stipends for Yujiro and his peers.
In short: they stole his money.
Worse, it wouldn't be long before war with the Hidden Cloud flared up again. Endless conflict would only make Konoha's poverty worse.
"My ryo!" Yujiro muttered. "My ryo are gone!"
He swore to take action in an emperor's swagger. He'd cleared out more than a few brigands and rogue-nin on the road, but these vermin were everywhere. From that angle, the Third Hokage's turtle strategy—defer, avoid, preserve—had merit. The constant retreats had bought Konoha much-needed breathing room to recover.
The ninja world was a competition of who could be less broken. Konoha's choices looked absurd only until you compared them to the other villages.
Sunagakure's treasury was drained; its top brass compromised and its new generation broken. Iwagakure's leadership quarrelled; tailed beasts were slipping away and promising young shinobi defected. Kirigakure's blood-mist policies had driven its people to despair; the Seven Swordsmen scattered or fell. Kiri might self-destruct with a bit more bad luck.
Compared to that, Konoha had managed to be "the least terrible." The lesson was simple: you don't have to be the best—just slower at collapsing than everyone else.
The one true exception was Kumogakure. The Raikage's power, unity, and prestige were unmatched. The Kumo duo and their Jinchūriki were adored and nearly untouchable. If Yujiro had to migrate anywhere, Kumo seemed tempting—except the Cloud had already set its sights on him.
Not long after he finished with the sixth bandit den, Yujiro dashed through a dark copse and came to a halt. "Who's there? Since you've been spotted, don't hide—come out."
Within seconds, masked shinobi emerged from all directions, surrounding him.
In the original timeline the war with the Cloud would begin a year later. But it seemed their plotting had already begun.
At the same moment, the idiotic system chimed.
[Emergency Sub-Quest — Eliminate Trash: Has the reputation of the Senju of the Forest lost its fearsome edge? Eliminate these trash and remind the world of the terror of Wood Release! Reward: +1 Free Attribute Point.]
Seeing the reward, Yujiro swallowed his complaints. Attribute points were attribute points; call him Senju of the Forest or the Sage of Six Paths, he didn't care so long as it helped him grow stronger.
First things first: get rid of the chaff.
The ambushers weren't pushovers. The leader was at the jōnin tier and the rest were competent chūnin—more than enough to take down a lone jōnin with a coordinated ambush.
Yujiro scanned his surroundings carefully. "So the Cloud plans to rip up the truce? Right after the Third Great Ninja War?"
From the crowd one not-very-bright goon blurted, "We're masked—how did you—" and promptly got punched by a companion before he could finish. Yujiro rolled his eyes. A black sleeve revealing a tattooed arm and a head of dyed blond hair barely concealed anything.
"Impressive, Flame-Claw of Konoha," the Cloud leader praised, misreading Yujiro's skill. "And your Sharingan—very fine."
He assumed Yujiro had seen through them with dōjutsu. Yujiro let the misunderstanding stand—let the Cloud ninjas keep their innocence.
"As for tearing up the pact," the leader continued, smirking, "we wouldn't do that—if you die, who'd blame us?"
Laughter bubbled up among them—until it abruptly stopped. Yujiro joined in the laugh.
"What are you laughing at?!" one of them snapped.
"A hyena surrounding a lion, full of swagger—how can that not be funny?" Yujiro answered, and the mockery stung.
The Cloud leader drew his blade and grinned, "We'll see if your skill matches your reputation."
"Then—" Yujiro said.
"—attack! Don't look him in the eyes!" a voice barked.
Eighteen Cloud shinobi lunged in pairs, blades and kunai flashing. The jungle filled with the wet thud of bodies dropping, the geysers of blood, and the raspy gasps of dying men.
Amid the carnage Yujiro stepped forward calmly—toward the supposed Cloud jōnin leader.
"Genjutsu!? When—" the leader choked, stunned.
He echoed the bewildered reaction of the others: intelligence reports had labeled Yujiro as a Sharingan-underperformer who specialized in kenjutsu. Yet here he was, flipping the script.
"You aren't as weak-eyed as we thought," the leader trembled. "You've hidden it deep, Uchiha Yujiro. Are you sure showing your hand like this is wise?"
Yujiro smiled. "Don't worry—if you die, who's left to notice my eyes are strong?"
The Cloud leader paused; something about Yujiro's words sounded familiar—like a retort he'd heard before—but the thought vanished as the battlefield claimed him.
The Cloud jōnin quickly realized something: Yujiro had just thrown his own words back at him, changing only a few syllables. Typical Uchiha—never bothered with copyright, just plagiarized outright.
"You're too arrogant," the Cloud shinobi snarled. "Careful you don't die miserably."
"Then let's test it."
"Test it? Fine! I am the Lightning Blade of the Cloud, and I will not lose to Konoha's so-called Flame-Claw!"
Roaring, he charged at Yujiro. As he ran, he brushed his hand along his sword—the blade crackled with lightning chakra, a mirror of Yujiro's own fire-enhanced blade.
Yujiro's face darkened. What the hell? Usually it's us Uchiha who steal other people's moves, and now someone dares to copy mine?
"If I don't twist off this guy's head and kick it like a ball today, I'll change my surname to Senju!"
In an instant, the battle between two elite jōnin erupted.
Shunshin vs. Shunshin.
Chakra blade vs. chakra blade.
Lightning Blade vs. Flame-Claw!
Aside from being uglier by a factor of eight, the man was practically his mirror image. That alone surprised Yujiro.
He had expected the Cloud shinobi to fight like Killer B—wielding blades like Samehada or Thunder Sabre. Instead, this one fought like someone else entirely.
The clash of steel rang out—ding! ding! ding!—as both exchanged blindingly fast strikes, retreating only to circle and counter with bursts of speed, hurling kunai to probe for openings.
Speed, strength, body—his opponent was no less than Yujiro himself. And his lightning blade-work wasn't half bad.
But what truly shocked Yujiro was his style. It resembled someone else—familiar, but weaker.
"...White Fang of Konoha?" Yujiro blurted.
The man's eyes lit. "That's right! You're not the only one who studied the White Fang! Even as an enemy, I couldn't help but admire him—so much so I imitated his style. It's a tragedy—such a man, driven to death by his own village!"
The words carried both anger and respect. Yujiro sighed silently, deciding not to lop the man's head off after all.
But the next second, blood gushed from the Cloud shinobi's throat. The fight ended as abruptly as it began.
He clutched at his wound, trying to stem the flow, but it was hopeless.
"Genjutsu…? When—?" he rasped, staring wide-eyed at Yujiro.
"From the very beginning," Yujiro answered flatly.
"What…?"
"Yes. From the start, you've been trapped in my illusion."
His Sharingan spun, three tomoe glowing with crimson brilliance. In raw power they'd been equals, but with the Sharingan unleashed, Yujiro pulled ahead decisively.
"…I see. Thank you."
The Cloud shinobi's face softened into understanding. His gratitude wasn't for mercy—but for the way Yujiro had fought him with respect, as a man, blade to blade, instead of mocking him. It was why he'd chosen Yujiro as his prey.
Having crossed swords with the Flame-Claw before dying, Urui, the Lightning Blade of the Cloud, felt no regrets.
A moment later, the watching Cloud-nin gasped. Their commander's body froze—his throat split wide, blood spraying in torrents—before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
The system's familiar chime echoed:
[Emergency Sub-Quest — Eliminate the Trash: Completed. Reward: +1 Free Attribute Point.]