Uchiha Souji followed the masked clan ninja toward Fugaku's residence, but he couldn't help staring at the man's strangely respectful posture.
Why was he acting like this?
Moments ago, he had treated Souji like a child. Now he was practically bowing with every step.
Souji sighed heavily.
"Why are you suddenly so humble? You're an Uchiha, not a wandering monk."
He truly wondered if he had met a fake Uchiha.
Weren't Uchihas supposed to be cold, proud, and slightly terrifying?
Their entire clan was famous for acting like the world owed them something.
Now one of them was acting gentle and respectful?
He shook the thought away.
No point overthinking it.
Souji sheathed his sword slowly and walked behind the ninja. As he moved, he touched the hilt of his Third Generation Demon Blade, speaking silently through the new sword-language technique he received.
"Hey," he asked in his mind, "what's your name?"
Since the sword-language ability allowed communication with his blade, he figured he might as well try to build some relationship with the weapon. If the system never gave him another sword for the rest of his life, he needed this one to stop hating him.
Maybe—just maybe—he could clear the sword spirit's misunderstanding.
But instead of a calm reply, a violent roar burst into Souji's mind:
"BRAT! I WANT BLOOD! Give me blood NOW!"
The tone sounded less like a servant and more like…
a boss giving orders.
Souji rolled his eyes.
Of course.
Of course his sword had to be insane.
"Why do you even have this habit?" Souji muttered internally. "If I knew, I would've taken you hunting. Killing pigs, chopping chickens—whatever."
"IDIOT!" the demon sword roared. "You KNOW that's not what I mean!"
Black mist crackled inside the blade, the spirit pulling at its hair in fury.
The scent of onion and garlic still lingered on the sword.
Because Souji had used it as…
a kitchen knife a few days ago.
"You used ME," the spirit growled, "to chop vegetables! Vegetables! My blade still smells like garlic!"
Souji coughed and looked away.
Honestly, he had forgotten about that.
The demon sword continued screaming in his mind, voice echoing like a vengeful ghost:
"See that man next to you? Draw me! Swing me! Let me CUT HIM!"
"Then I'll forgive you for forcing me to acknowledge you as my master. I haven't felt the joy of slicing flesh, cutting muscle, and shattering bone in so long!"
"You're a warrior! No— a ninja! You should KNOW that a new sword must be tested in BLOOD!"
"Only then can I properly sync with you and reveal my true power!"
Souji clicked his tongue.
This so-called demon sword's "temptation speech" was pathetic.
Honestly, compared to the street fortune tellers from his previous life, the sword spirit had worse marketing skills.
"Your sales technique is terrible," Souji said dryly. "I should send you to a speech training class."
"You call yourself a demon sword? You talk like a broken street microphone."
"You little piece of trash."
If the sword had parents, Souji would've insulted them too.
The blade trembled violently in rage.
"I—beep—YOU—beep—BECAUSE—beep—!"
Souji ignored the furious cursing.
He had exchanged harsh words with far scarier things online in his previous life. A sword spirit was nothing.
And anyway, they had arrived at Fugaku's residence.
So Souji completely shut out the demon sword's tantrum and stepped into the room.
---
Inside the Patriarch's House
The first thing Souji saw was a familiar sight—
silver-white hair.
"Oh no… isn't that Kakashi?"
Before he could wonder what the Copy Ninja was doing in the Uchiha compound, a violent coughing sound cut through the room.
A cough so familiar, so raspy, and so dramatic that Souji instantly recognized it.
Moonlight Hayate.
The number-one cough machine in Konoha.
Souji had only met him once before, but that coughing style was unforgettable.
Why is he here? Does he want to cough to death in front of the Uchiha patriarch?!
Hayate looked pale and exhausted, but he nodded politely when he noticed Souji.
Souji nodded back, then walked behind Fugaku and stood at respectful attention.
Fugaku smiled slightly.
He was pleased with Souji's discipline.
After taking a calm sip of tea, Fugaku explained the entire situation—Hayate wanting to buy Souji's sword.
Souji listened silently but felt a bad premonition.
When Fugaku finished speaking, Moonlight Hayate immediately straightened his posture, reached into his vest, and pulled out a sealing scroll.
He placed it gently on the tatami and pushed it forward.
Souji could see the pain in his eyes.
This scroll contained months of savings and the best sword his family owned.
But Hayate did not want to owe the Uchiha clan even the smallest favor.
Because favor meant danger.
Everyone in Konoha knew:
"If you owe the Uchiha for three days… you'll eat nine meals for free—and still end up in trouble."
The clan's influence was too deep.
Accepting a favor could drag an entire family into political ties.
Hayate wasn't willing to gamble his clan's future.
He bowed deeply.
"Souji, I want to buy the sword in your hand."
He didn't say "demon sword."
Smart.
If people knew he was asking for a demon blade, the whole village might panic.
But Souji's mouth twitched.
Internally, he was furious.
This sword was one of the few valuable gifts he had ever gotten from the system.
Absolutely not for sale. Not now, not ever.
And even if he wanted to sell it…
He would only do it AFTER leaving Konoha.
No way he'd hand over a priceless demon weapon to someone still coughing his lungs out.
Not to mention—
Souji was just a rookie ninja student.
Why would he give up such a powerful tool?
His gaze toward Hayate grew colder and colder.
"Brother… you die in the original timeline… and now I understand why.
Maybe it really IS your destiny."
Hayate smiled politely, unaware that Souji was mentally burying him already.
Souji kept his face expressionless, but inside—
He was cursing nonstop.
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