REVIEWS AND POWERSTONES PLSSS!!!!!Chapter 102: Itachi, Look How Considerate I Am
"Well, Itachi, what are you still hesitating for?" Yasushi's smile widened with genuine delight. "You're not worried about bearing the sin of abandoning your comrades, are you?"
"You can put that concern to rest!"
"Look—these shinobi are already in my hands. If I wanted them dead, it would take mere moments."
"They were going to die anyway. But with your choice, you can actually save one group!"
"Actually, let me rephrase this." Yasushi's grin turned sharp. "I've always been a considerate person, so let me frame it differently for you."
"Itachi, do you intend to save Hiruzen Sarutobi and these elite clan shinobi? Or do you plan to rescue that much larger group of ordinary shinobi?"
"Or to put it in terms you understand—by your measuring standards, which group holds greater value for the village? These elite clan shinobi with all their power and bloodline techniques? Or those weaker shinobi who may lack strength individually, but represent the majority of the village's population?"
"I..." Itachi's expression shifted repeatedly, his mouth opening and closing as words failed him.
He wasn't stupid. Yasushi's intent was blatantly obvious, not even half-hidden.
Of course Itachi understood the malice embedded in this choice. But precisely because he understood, he also knew with absolute certainty that Yasushi wouldn't lie about this. He would genuinely release whichever group Shisui didn't choose.
And most importantly, though he recognized Yasushi's malice, within his own value system, Itachi didn't believe this kind of choice was wrong.
His anguish stemmed from being forced to choose at all, from his powerlessness. It came from his inability to save everyone, not from any belief that his choice itself was mistaken.
And Yasushi's words weren't meant for him anyway. They were directed at the hostages hanging from the trees.
Human nature was complex.
No matter which group Shisui chose, the survivors wouldn't feel gratitude toward him. They would likely hate him instead.
Because this incident would spread throughout the village. Every survivor would face cold, questioning stares from the families of the dead.
Why wasn't it you who died?
Sometimes, living was more painful than death.
And that was exactly what Yasushi wanted.
"I choose to save Lord Hokage's group!"
Itachi finally stayed true to his inner convictions, making his final choice.
His voice came out hoarse, his face ashen, his eyes locked onto Uchiha Yasushi with such intensity it seemed he wanted to devour him whole.
But Yasushi didn't care about his attitude in the slightest. Hearing the choice, he immediately burst into delighted laughter.
"Hahaha! Excellent choice!"
"Itachi, you really are still the same Itachi from before!"
"Truly worthy of being the Uchiha Itachi who exterminated his own clan down to the last elderly person, woman, and child for the sake of village peace!"
Yasushi laughed so hard tears streamed down his face. His entire expression twisted and contorted like molded clay.
He turned around to face the abandoned group of ordinary shinobi, spreading his arms wide as he laughed maniacally.
"Do you see?"
"This is the Will of Fire!"
"Where the leaves dance, the fire's shadow burns eternal!"
"Without you kindling to burn, how could Lord Hokage's flame burn so bright and never extinguish?"
"You were always just important in other people's words. But when the time comes to actually make a choice, you're the first ones abandoned!"
"When you reach the afterlife, remember to be reborn into a better life. Don't be fodder again next time!"
The group of ordinary shinobi stared at Uchiha Itachi with eyes filled with fear, pleading, sorrow, and countless other emotions.
Some didn't look at Uchiha Itachi at all. Instead, they stared at Hiruzen Sarutobi on the opposite side, along with those elite clan shinobi. The meaning in their eyes grew more complex—perhaps hatred, perhaps envy. Yasushi couldn't quite parse all the emotions there.
These were just ordinary chunin and genin, the same type who would rob and murder civilians over a handful of coins. Did anyone really expect them to willingly sacrifice themselves for the village's elite?
Heh heh... Watching this display of human nature, Yasushi smiled coldly and snapped his fingers.
Snap!
With that crisp sound, the branches and vines began to writhe. The wooden gags sealing these people's mouths automatically fell away, giving everyone the chance to speak.
The scene fell silent for a moment. No one spoke at first, just staring coldly.
But soon, someone who couldn't bear the pressure of impending death broke first, cursing loudly.
"Uchiha Itachi, may you die a horrible death!"
With one person leading, others naturally followed, venting their terror of death.
"Uchiha Itachi, your arrogance and recklessness brought this disaster on the village! Why don't you die instead?"
"Uchiha Itachi, you bastard! You're worse than an animal!"
"Uchiha Itachi, you—"
The insults grew increasingly vulgar. Yasushi stood nearby, grinning as he listened, almost ready to applaud them.
Since you're so eloquent, keep going!
Itachi stood off to the side, his face cold, saying nothing, allowing these people to hurl abuse at him. No one could tell what he felt inside.
Hearing so many Konoha shinobi curse Uchiha Itachi brought Yasushi genuine joy.
But after listening for a while, he grew bored.
Because these people only cursed Itachi. Not a single one cursed Hiruzen Sarutobi.
That wouldn't do at all!
Though Yasushi understood why—they were dying, but their families still lived in Konoha. They could afford to offend Uchiha Itachi, but not the village's high command.
But understanding was one thing. Yasushi had no intention of being considerate.
So when someone finished cursing Uchiha Itachi and began redirecting their rage toward Uchiha Yasushi, Yasushi's eyes turned cold. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers again.
Snap!
After that crisp sound, the branches and vines suddenly contracted inward.
Crack...
Dozens of agonized screams rang out simultaneously, filled with despair and pain, as if their very lungs were being torn apart. The sounds echoed repeatedly through the forest, making everyone's scalp crawl.
Before the screams faded, the grinding crunch of breaking bones followed.
The sound resembled dry branches snapping, or hard bones being forcibly compressed and deformed. It sent chills down everyone's spine.
Then came the wet sounds of flesh bursting and rupturing in succession.
Blood flowed slowly down the vines, dripping onto the ground to form pools of dark red.
Some flesh and organs were squeezed out entirely, splattering onto the green leaves—a nauseating, horrifying sight.
These sounds wove together, echoing repeatedly through the silent forest. Each one struck like a hammer against the heart, leaving everyone cold to the bone, their hair standing on end.
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