Even as she said "do whatever you want with me," Ōtsutsuki Kaguya didn't look angry at all. If anything, the fact that Uchiha Yōrin was that strong—that overwhelming—left an unforgettable impression on her. She was genuinely convinced.
…Okay, fine. She still had to act a little tsundere about it—muttering things like "a bet is a bet," "I'll do better next time," "I'll challenge you again," and so on.
Yōrin: "Mm-hm, yeah, yeah, got it. Anyway, all the formalities are over. Now we get to the real business."
As he spoke, he scooped up the limp, drained Kaguya from the ground and used Flying Thunder God to vanish.
Of course, before leaving, Yōrin didn't forget to restore everything in the Valley of the End.
Truth-Seeking Orbs really were absurdly useful. With natural energy plus Truth-Seeking Orbs, the wasteland that had just been flattened returned to normal in the blink of an eye.
Hashirama and Madara's giant statues stood on opposite banks again, hands raised like they were casting spells, gazing at each other with that eternal, dramatic tenderness.
If those two "grandpas" somehow heard that their "ancestor" had just been thoroughly defeated, who knew what faces they'd make. In the Pure Land, Hagoromo was absolutely not okay. He muttered, "What an unfilial brat," then cut off his five senses and severed his connection to the human world for eight hours.
Then another eight hours.
Then another eight.
Then twenty-four.
Fuming: "Don't push it!! If you anger me, it won't end well for you!"
…And then he cut himself off again for another day.
…
Yōrin started to suspect he'd been scammed.
Sure, he'd succeeded—he'd recruited Kaguya as an ally—but somehow it felt like he was the one paying the price.
Never underestimate a woman's desire—especially one who's been sealed away for an absurd length of time.
Still… the winner was him in the end, so: heh.
Holding the satisfied-looking Kaguya in his arms, Yōrin felt a bright, smug sense of accomplishment.
That proud "goddess" had finally been completely subdued.
Yep. That's how it was.
In that case, you could basically say the Naruto world was "cleared," right?
From here, it was just steady development—wait for the Ōtsutsuki to come knocking, and then—
Spaceships. Counterattack. Make the galaxy burn…
…Wait.
Yōrin suddenly remembered something.
Earth wasn't only dealing with Kaguya. There was another Ōtsutsuki.
That one had been taken down by Kaguya back then, but not completely. He'd survived by parasitizing a monk, building power in secret, waiting to rise again.
In the original timeline—Boruto, where everything is weirdly overpowered and dramatic—that guy even played the role of a mid-boss.
But whatever. Just one leftover parasite-Ōtsutsuki. A nuisance.
Yōrin vaguely remembered the host's name was something like Jigen—some "Ji-" monk name. But the annoying part was: there were a lot of monks with similar names. If he tried to search openly, he'd just spook the target and drive him deeper underground.
And Yōrin was sure that guy was careful. If he even switched hosts and ditched the monk body entirely, tracking him would become a nightmare.
So after thinking it through, Yōrin came up with a plan—and he told Kaguya both the plan and the fact that Ōtsutsuki Isshiki was still alive.
Kaguya's reaction was basically: "What the hell?!"
He's still alive?!
As the woman who'd survived by backstabbing him, she became instantly tense. She wanted him dead even more than Yōrin did.
But how?
If you asked Kaguya to plan, she'd probably pick the dumbest possible option—turn the entire shinobi world into White Zetsu and brute-force search the planet.
Yeah, no.
Even ignoring morality, that was terrible value. Yōrin wasn't going to let her slaughter his people and workforce just to run a planet-wide sweep.
Those people could produce more super-high-tier fighters in the future—eventually even mass-produce top-level power. Yōrin had never intended to fight the Ōtsutsuki alone.
Just like villages eventually replaced clans, he believed a unified, upgraded shinobi world could win through overwhelming numbers, industry, and sustained growth—cutting down those cosmic parasites for good.
"Really?"
Kaguya mostly agreed with his plan… but when Yōrin talked about creating a force that would eventually surpass the Ōtsutsuki, she didn't believe him.
Even as a traitor, Kaguya still carried the Ōtsutsuki pride. She hated hearing her clan dismissed as worthless.
But the reality was simple: in a world where technology and organization accelerate, a population of hundreds of millions advancing at high speed beats a tiny tribe of a few hundred relying only on "talent" and predation.
If the Ōtsutsuki were specialized raiders, then Yōrin's shinobi civilization was an organized, productive empire.
Raiders can dominate early—until the world shifts.
Once the industrial era arrives, raiders either adapt… or disappear.
And Yōrin's state wasn't "a province." It was an entire planet-scale project on a steep upward curve.
That was why, even though the shinobi world wasn't "Six Paths everywhere," Kaguya could still see the trajectory clearly: there were already young elites with modified bloodlines, showing genuine potential.
And Yōrin had deliberately removed the cannibalistic "devour to evolve" trait—another shock to her. He wasn't bluffing. He had built something that could outgrow the Ōtsutsuki model.
Not stronger today.
But stronger tomorrow—because it could keep producing strength.
…
After seeing Yōrin's foundation, Kaguya finally gained confidence that the Ōtsutsuki could be defeated.
She still didn't fully understand why Yōrin insisted on "republic" structures instead of crowns and thrones, but she chalked it up to personal taste.
So, with that, the remaining questions vanished.
News that Yōrin was marrying the legendary "Rabbit Goddess" spread across the world through the now-massive media network.
Sure, old myths painted her as a cruel ruler—but those were ancient stories. Modern people mostly reacted with:
"Wait… she actually exists?!"
And because Yōrin's prestige was sky-high, the public was proud in a very simple way:
"Our leader can even marry a goddess. That's insane."
It got even more ridiculous when it was announced that after marriage she'd drop the Ōtsutsuki name and take the new family name—becoming part of the Senju-Uchiha line.
People loved it even more, like it proved Yōrin could "hold her down" too.
They didn't realize that this also reflected Kaguya's own resolve: she'd decided to abandon the doomed Ōtsutsuki path and embrace the new era.
And her joining—her name change—meant the new Senju-Uchiha lineage had gained a true Six Paths-tier powerhouse.
Even though the "system" was long gone, Yōrin still retained the practical benefits of growth and expansion—except now it was less a literal clan name and more an honor-identity that spread through controlled bio-engineering.
That was one reason he kept pushing gene-modification as a long-term policy.
…
And so the wedding went forward—big, joyous, world-famous.
In this peaceful, prosperous era, it was a genuine "celebration for everyone."
People were happily soaking in the festival atmosphere.
Of course, the wedding's scale was so massive it sparked some jealousy in the harem—especially because Tsunade had been "the main wife," and now Kaguya naturally occupied that symbolic position.
Even if nobody said it out loud, Tsunade still grumbled a little—just to prove she had a spine.
But it was only grumbling. She wasn't going to blow the world up over it.
Kaguya's "stats" were simply too overwhelming. People accepted her without the lingering "yeah but" they sometimes had with Tsunade. After all…
That was Kaguya.
Yōrin talked it through with Tsunade, smoothed things over, and she was satisfied enough to stop complaining.
So the wedding proceeded without drama.
And then—just as Yōrin expected—
Isshiki made his move.
He knew it was dangerous. But the moment he heard that Kaguya, the traitor, was alive again…
He couldn't sit still anymore.
He snapped.
And he stepped out.