Shinju left the orphan tent.
His thin figure melted into the chaos of the crowd, completely unremarkable. No one would notice an orphanage castoff. It was perfect cover.
He reached the plaza beneath the Hokage Rock.
Every surviving villager and shinobi of Konoha had gathered here. Faces wore the daze of those who had escaped disaster, and the grief of those who had lost loved ones.
At the front of the plaza stood a hastily built stage.
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen, stood upon it. He had taken off the Hokage robes and wore simple black mourning clothes, the exact degree of sorrow on his face.
In his arms, he held a swaddled baby.
The infant slept soundly, faint whisker-like marks across his cheeks.
Naruto.
The son of Minato and Kushina—the new Kyubi (Nine-Tails) jinchūriki.
Behind Hiruzen stood Konoha's senior leadership.
One of the legendary Sannin, Jiraiya. His grief was plain, and his eyes never left the bundle.
Hiruzen's two advisors, Koharu and Homura—the old guard of Konoha—wore solemn expressions, yet in the glances they stole at the child, Shinju saw calculation and coldness.
ANBU shinobi stood by, as did the heads of the major clans.
All eyes focused on Hiruzen.
Shinju watched from the edge of the crowd, gaze like ice.
[Ding! System prompt: Host, Hiruzen's address is beginning. This is your optimal window to intervene in history!]
The machine voice rang in his mind.
Shinju didn't respond. All his attention was fixed on the stage.
Hiruzen cleared his throat and began in that rich, calming voice of his, laden with grief.
"People of Konoha, shinobi."
"Today, we have suffered an unprecedented calamity. The Nine-Tails' surprise attack cost us our homes, our families, and our beloved Fourth Hokage—Minato."
His voice caught. He paused.
A wave of muffled sobs rippled through the crowd. Many shinobi and civilians bowed their heads, eyes reddening.
Jiraiya's fist clenched even tighter, his body trembling with sorrow.
Taking in every reaction, Hiruzen continued, "Minato was my grandstudent, a child I watched grow up. He was a flawless Hokage—a true hero. With his life, he protected the land beneath our feet and upheld Konoha's Will of Fire!"
He raised one hand high, voice swelling.
"Heroes must not be forgotten! His deeds will be etched forever into Konoha's history!"
He played the crowd perfectly—sorrow transmuted into a thread of pride and righteous heat.
"Hokage-sama!"
"Fourth-sama!"
Scattered shouts rose.
Shinju watched, cold and silent.
What a brilliant speech.
What a masterful hand.
First stir grief to bind all hearts, then elevate the theme with the hero's merit—thus seizing everyone's emotions in the palm of his hand.
No wonder the man had worn the hat for decades—the "Professor" of shinobi.
But then what?
Shinju's gaze fell to the sleeping infant.
The speech's true purpose was only now beginning.
As expected, Hiruzen shifted tack and gently lifted the swaddled child for all to see.
"Look—this is the last, and most precious, gift the Fourth left us."
All eyes converged on the baby.
Curiosity, pity… and beneath both, fear and revulsion.
Jinchūriki.
A taboo word all pretended not to know.
"This child is named Naruto," Hiruzen said softly, voice heavy. "He is the son of the Fourth Hokage, Minato, and Kushina. To seal the Nine-Tails, the Fourth sealed the fox's power into his own son."
The words hit the crowd like a thunderclap.
Uproar tore through the plaza.
"What? The Nine-Tails is in that child?"
"Heavens… then he's—"
"A monster…"
Whispers spread like a plague. The eyes staring at Naruto turned from pity to naked fear in an instant.
Jiraiya's face went ashen. He started to step forward, but Hiruzen's look stopped him cold.
"Silence!"
Hiruzen's voice cracked like a whip. The pressure of a Kage-level giant washed outward, stamping the clamor flat.
He gazed over them with pained disappointment.
"Look at yourselves! Is this how you treat a hero's child?"
"Naruto is not the fox! He is the vessel that sealed the fox—a hero of Konoha!"
"His father died for this village. From the moment he was born he bore a crushing fate. Should we not be grateful? Should we not cherish him?"
Shamed, many bowed their heads.
Inwardly, Shinju sneered.
How pretty the words sounded.
First, reveal the jinchūriki truth to ignite fear. Then, from the moral high ground, scold the villagers' callousness and crown himself the merciful guardian who protects the boy.
Push and pull—clean, controlled.
Now for the final, gilded paving stone to justify his real aim.
"I proclaim," Hiruzen's voice rang, "from this day forth, Naruto is the hero's child of Konoha. His identity will receive the highest protection!"
"To prevent enemies with ill intent from exploiting him—to allow him to grow in a peaceful, stable environment—the matter of him being a jinchūriki is, from today, designated as kinjutsu (forbidden technique). No one may mention it again."
"And Naruto will be under my personal care. As the child of a hero, he will receive the village's finest upbringing and protection."
Silence fell.
Satisfaction lit Koharu's and Homura's eyes.
Jiraiya's knotted brows loosened a fraction. If the teacher himself would watch over the boy, it was the best outcome.
Villagers nodded one after another, convinced of the Third's wisdom.
Only Shinju laughed without sound.
Protection?
What a joke.
Forbid mention of the jinchūriki—after making sure everyone knows. That will only force Naruto to grow up in a warped climate of unspoken isolation and coldness.
Your "personal care"?
That means tossing him into an empty room with a scant monthly stipend and letting him fend for himself.
"Protection" is simply "sealing away."
"Care" reads as "surveillance."
Fine methods, indeed.
All of it to keep the Nine-Tails jinchūriki—this "ultimate weapon"—firmly in your grasp.
Shinju stared at the sanctimonious old man on the stage, then at the baby in his arms who knew nothing of the future.
A hero's child?
No—he doesn't need that hollow title.
He needs a father.
A father to stand in front of him when bullies come.
A father to teach him ninjutsu, to take him out for ramen, to leave a kiss on his brow.
Hiruzen—your era ends here.
Shinju's eyes hardened to ice.
In his mind, he spoke to the system.
"System."
[Ding! Host, please issue your command.]
"How many Correction Points to revive Minato?"
[Ding! Reviving the legendary heroic spirit 'Minato' (Peak State) requires 100,000,000,000 Correction Points.]
One hundred billion.
Shinju glanced at his balance—over nine hundred billion—and didn't hesitate.
"Revive!"
His will struck like a hammer.
"I don't want a soul that just died—weak and fading!"
"I want a father who can protect his family—a Hokage who can end the chaos—the Golden Flash who slays gods if gods bar his path—at his absolute peak!"
[Ding! Host request confirmed. Reviving [Peak State · Minato].]
[Peak State Definition: All bodily functions, chakra reserves, mental will, and technique mastery set to the strongest point of his life.]
[Consuming Correction Points…]
[Densetsu Fukkatsu (Legend Revival) primed.]
[Host, please confirm.]
A massive, golden [Confirm] button filled Shinju's mind.
On the stage, Hiruzen's speech neared its end. Cradling Naruto, he wore a kindly smile, ready to accept the crowd's cheers and adoration.
He would become Hokage again—he would seize the village again.
Everything was going to plan.
Shinju looked at that self-satisfied face and let a thin smile curl his lips.
Goodbye, Third Hokage.
His will slammed down on [Confirm].
At that instant—
The entire world seemed to hit pause.
The wind died. Sound vanished.
A terror from a higher dimension, beyond words, fell on every corner of Konoha like a collapsing sky.
Across the plaza, every shinobi—genin, chūnin, jōnin, even Kage-tier existences like Jiraiya—felt a shiver that started in the soul.
Chakra locked. Bodies froze. Knees began to give.
Thud!
Thud! Thud!
Hundreds—thousands—of shinobi buckled and dropped to both knees beneath the pressure.
Only a handful of elite jōnin and clan heads kept their feet, drenched in cold sweat, faces white as paper, as if carrying a mountain on their backs.
On the stage, Jiraiya's expression twisted.
"This chakra… is—?!"
The smile on Hiruzen's face shattered, replaced by naked dread. He clutched Naruto tight, body shaking.
This pressure—he knew it too well.
So well it bred despair.
It wasn't the malice of the Nine-Tails. It wasn't any chakra he recognized.
It was a pure, sovereign weight—godlike, towering above all.
Instinctively, everyone looked up.
The sky, stained dark red by the fox's rampage, had somehow turned heaving and turbulent.
The cloud-mass twisted under an unseen force, spiraling into a colossal vortex.
And at its heart—
A golden fissure slowly tore open the veil of heaven.
(End of Chapter)
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