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Chapter 17 - Uchiha Madara — Clumsy Tobirama, I Saw Through Your Scheme at a Glance

Early the next morning.

At dawn, Senju Tobirama sprang out of bed far earlier than usual and hurried straight to the office his elder brother, Senju Hashirama, had just finished constructing with Wood Release.

The moment Tobirama stepped inside—

He locked eyes with a man sporting wild black hair and a distinctly rebellious look.

At the same time, that man also noticed Tobirama.

"Tch—naturally evil Uchiha Madara / Senju Tobirama."

"What an eyesore."

"Why is he pestering my big brother / Hashirama again?"

Naturally, Tobirama only dared to think these words in his heart.

After all, Hashirama was notoriously biased—his heart had already been completely stolen by that naturally evil Uchiha Madara.

Of course, Madara was thinking the same thing.

For Hashirama's sake… I'll endure Tobirama for now.

The two merely shot each other cold, expressionless glances—faces like they were carved from stone—before Tobirama strode straight up to Hashirama.

"Big brother, these are the results of the questionnaire surveys I've collected over the past few days. Please take a look."

"Questionnaire surveys?"

Hashirama asked in confusion as he reached out, took the thick stack of papers from Tobirama, and began reading.

As expected—

Madara leaned over as well.

If Hashirama was reading something, even if it were a piece of toilet paper, Madara would still want to take a look and sample the flavor.

[Questionnaire Survey on Senju Hashirama Becoming the Village Leader]

The bold black title at the top of the page made Tobirama's intentions painfully obvious.

But faced with Madara's sudden intrusion—

Tobirama wasn't nervous at all.

Every answer on this report had been personally given by Uchiha clan members.

To further strengthen credibility, Tobirama had even instructed the "surveyor"—that gentle, alluring older sister—to ensure that every Uchiha respondent signed their name.

This report was clean.

A solid, airtight case.

Something that could withstand the scrutiny of history itself.

Flawless.

Absolutely flawless.

Perfect timing, Tobirama thought.

Since that naturally evil Uchiha Madara was here, he could witness Tobirama's methods firsthand.

Your own clan has already been "represented" by me.

This is the true power of statistics.

The village leader's seat belongs to my big brother!

Uchiha Madara—regret it! Curse your lack of a sharp, calculating mind!

As Tobirama thought this, a confident, satisfied smile crept onto his face.

He was eagerly anticipating Madara's reaction upon seeing the results—

Surely Madara would snap, furious and humiliated!

"Approved."

"Yes."

"I think this is fine."

Hashirama flipped through the questionnaires one by one, utterly stunned by the results.

"Am I… really that amazing?"

"It's understandable that the Senju would support me, but I never imagined that the vast majority of the Uchiha would support me too!"

As for Madara's thoughts—

My Hashirama really is incredible.

He's already won over the Uchiha so quickly. At this rate, the day when the Senju and Uchiha truly put aside their ancient hatred is close.

Time passed.

Soon, Hashirama reached the final page.

"According to the public survey, Senju Hashirama has received approximately 80% support. The facts prove that Hashirama becoming the village leader is the will of the people."

This conclusion had been personally written by Tobirama.

According to his plan, within a few days, this survey report and its conclusion would spread throughout both the Senju and Uchiha clans.

He was building unstoppable momentum for his brother—leaving Madara no chance whatsoever.

At this moment, Tobirama restrained his smile.

A sharp light flickered in his eyes.

He carefully observed Madara's expression.

But unfortunately—

He saw nothing he'd hoped for.

Madara showed no anger.

No frustration.

If anything… was that excitement?

Tobirama felt as though he'd punched a wad of cotton.

This wasn't right.

This made no sense at all!

Under normal circumstances, any clan head would explode with rage after seeing such a report.

My own clan didn't support me?

They didn't vote for me for such an important position?

Outrageous!

Utter disloyalty!

They'd deserve immediate suppression!

But then Tobirama remembered—

Right. The Uchiha are all abnormal.

Especially those with the Mangekyō Sharingan.

And the man in front of him possessed the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.

Someone like that simply couldn't be judged by common sense.

And those who couldn't be judged by common sense—

Were extremely dangerous.

The Uchiha truly were naturally evil.

Evil to the core.

Still… for now, everything seemed under control.

Clearing his throat, Tobirama turned to Hashirama.

"Big brother, I told you from the beginning—your becoming the village leader is the will of the people!"

"No one is more qualified than you."

As he spoke, Tobirama cast a sideways glance at Madara.

No reaction.

Madara remained stone-faced.

Even though Madara himself also believed Hashirama was perfectly capable of being village leader, he had zero intention of giving Tobirama—his brother's killer—even the slightest courtesy.

"Madara, what do you think?"

"Honestly… I still feel you'd be more suitable than me. Why don't you do it instead?"

Hashirama, as always, supported Madara without hesitation.

Madara, you really are more suitable than I am!

"Big brother, what are you even saying right now?!"

Before Madara could respond, Tobirama snapped—completely losing his composure.

He was genuinely terrified that Madara might just agree.

"The Senju support you! The Uchiha support you! Everyone believes in you and you're still—"

Big brother!

As your younger brother, I didn't just cook the meal for you—

I chewed it up and spoon-fed it straight into your mouth!

And now you're spitting it out and handing it to Uchiha Madara?!

I worked myself to death for you, for the Senju clan!

If you're not hungry, you could at least let me eat it!

I'm exhausted.

I want to die.

Faced with Tobirama's emotional outburst—

Madara's expression remained calm.

Not angry.

Not sad.

If it had to be described—

It was pure, unmistakable contempt.

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