"What is it?"
Yanmo had only just tamped down his surprise when Shisui's next words pulled it right back up. So the Uchiha aren't just prolific—they're abnormal in other ways too?
Shisui watched his face and spoke quietly. "Among the clansmen who feel hunger, every single one—without exception—has awakened the Sharingan."
"The Sharingan…?"
Yanmo frowned. With numbers this high, it couldn't be coincidence. There had to be a link.
He recalled the tale: Indra, elder son of the Sage of Six Paths, inherited the Sage's Yin Release. Through the generations that power became the Uchiha. The Sharingan—emblem of the clan—was the outward form of Yin Release, a power of the mind that shapes form from nothing. Stronger spirit, stronger soul.
So it's the Yin nature that forges this potential? He asked bluntly, "I spent a few days in the shinobi world—I know a bit. Is this tied to Yin-type chakra?"
Fugaku and the others nodded. "We can't find any other explanation."
Shisui continued, "Summarizing the past days—and using your reiatsu-refinement method—we found a pattern: the more tomoe in one's Sharingan, the faster the cultivation."
Fugaku picked up smoothly. "The fastest, so far, are Shisui and me."
Their eyes flushed red. Three tomoe spun—then settled into more intricate forms.
Mangekyō Sharingan.
Yanmo didn't look shocked; it fit his hypothesis. If Yin power bred Shinigami aptitude, then those with stronger Yin should advance faster.
Another thought struck him. His expression sharpened. "I've heard Mangekyō abilities are unique. Can you still use them now?"
Fugaku and Shisui exchanged a glance and nodded. "We can, my lord."
"Show me."
They stepped forward. "The Sharingan mirrors the heart," Fugaku said. "Each eye's power reflects its wielder's state of mind."
"The two personal techniques in our eyes are… too dangerous to display publicly," Shisui added. "Please forgive us."
"That's acceptable," Yanmo said. Kotoamatsukami shouldn't be tossed around, and Fugaku's power is… unknown. "But the third power—the one all Mangekyō share?"
"Susanoo."
Deep pressure erupted from them. Men and women, elders and children alike felt their breath hitch, the air turning thick and heavy. The sensation wasn't new—they'd felt something like it when Yanmo first appeared—but this time it came from their own clan head and its prodigy, and it was far weaker than Yanmo's.
Ten days… and they've reached this? Yanmo's chest tightened with equal parts awe and delight. Their reiatsu was still low—barely standard Shinigami level—but after only days of training? Astonishing. It had cost him far more to get there.
Bone-white ribs rose around Fugaku and Shisui, forming human torsos that sheathed them. One glowed a vivid green; the other was black as ink. Two skeletal shells towered in the courtyard—Susanoo, the name of ruin. Even at its first stage, the chill it gave off pricked the skin.
"This is our clan's… strongest power."
"The same might that Madara once wielded!"
"Fugaku, you sly fox—you hid this well."
Even seasoned Uchiha stared, eyes wide, forgetting to breathe. Because they were Uchiha, they understood better than anyone what this meant.
Light flashed in Yanmo's eyes. Shisui and Fugaku alone justify contracting the whole clan. And then there are the hundred who can become Shinigami… He almost smiled.
This is a windfall.
The ribcages held only a moment before fading. Both men were pale and sweating, chests heaving—spent.
"Excellent," Yanmo said. His tone was even, but the pleased crease at his brow betrayed him.
At their lord's praise, the two forced tired smiles. Calling up Susanoo felt like every cell was being needled—painful enough to avoid repeating without cause—but the approval made it worth it.
Yanmo asked, "When you use Mangekyō techniques, what fuels them—reiatsu?"
Breathless, they answered, "Yes, my lord. Reiatsu."
"At present we can only hold the first form for an instant," Fugaku added. "If our reiatsu grows, a complete form shouldn't be impossible."
Yanmo nodded. "And overuse—does it still blind you?"
Fugaku seemed faintly surprised he knew the secret, but answered anyway. "I tested it. Repeated Susanoo use only drains reiatsu. My sight remains intact."
"Only that?" Yanmo murmured, already forming the conclusion. "Because you're souls now?"
"That's our guess," Fugaku said. "In life, Mangekyō burned out the optic nerve—the body failed. As souls, there's no flesh to damage."
"A genuine blessing," Yanmo said, sincere. Mangekyō without blindness—practically eternal.
And still, there was more.
Fugaku steadied his breath and bowed. "My lord… there is one more matter you should know."