Minato had already reached the same conclusion.
Yahiko, Nagato, and Konan would inevitably stand in Danzō's way.
And when that happened—
Given Danzō's temperament and capability—
Their chances of survival were slim.
Minato thought for a moment, then reached into his pouch and withdrew several specially marked kunai.
He handed them to Jin.
"Jin. I know I shouldn't appear there at this time… but I want to help."
"Not only because Yahiko and the others are Jiraiya-sensei's students."
"But because I cannot allow Danzō's plan to succeed."
Minato understood this was the most critical period of his political ascent. If he abandoned his post and rushed to the Land of Rain, complications would inevitably follow.
But knowing—and doing nothing—
Wasn't in his nature.
More importantly—
Danzō was no ordinary opponent.
A direct disciple of the Second Hokage.
Tempered by war.
Rooted in Konoha's shadows for decades.
His foundations were unfathomable.
And this time, he would not be alone.
He had brought Root's elite operatives.
Even Jin might find himself outnumbered.
These marked kunai were insurance.
If necessary, Jin could summon him instantly.
In Minato's heart—
Jin was more important than the Hokage's seat.
If revealing himself meant saving Jin—
He would not hesitate.
Jin understood that.
Though he did not intend to use them, he accepted the kunai.
"Alright. I've delayed long enough."
"A and the Eight-Tails jinchūriki are in your hands."
He stood.
It was time.
Minato nodded.
"Don't worry. I'll handle things here."
"Once we return to camp, I'll ask Santan to adjust their memories. Your movements won't leak."
"Santan" referred to Yamanaka Santan—an elite member of the Yamanaka clan skilled in advanced mind techniques capable of reading, altering, and erasing memories.
He was one of Minato's loyal supporters.
Not suited for frontline combat—
But indispensable in matters like this.
Jin had never mentioned covering his tracks.
He trusted Minato would do so.
"Then we'll meet again in Konoha."
Jin waved to Inuzuka Gaku and Akimichi Dōtō.
In a flicker—
He vanished.
Minato remained staring at the direction Jin had left.
Only now did a trace of worry surface in his eyes.
Inuzuka Gaku stepped forward, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"Minato. You know Jin's strength."
"Honestly? In a straight fight, I'm not even sure you could take him."
"Nothing to worry about."
Akimichi Dōtō added in his deep voice,
"And his mind is sharper than most."
"He wouldn't walk into something unprepared."
Minato exhaled and smiled faintly.
"You're right. I'm overthinking."
"Secure the prisoners. Dispose of the remaining Kumogakure bodies."
"We're moving out."
Meanwhile—
A cloaked figure wearing a cat-faced mask slipped quietly into the capital of the Land of Fire.
The Daimyō's court bustled with life.
Crowds filled the streets.
Laughter and commerce flourished.
No trace of war.
The contrast was almost jarring.
The cloaked figure exhaled softly and concealed himself, waiting.
When night fell and the sun vanished beyond the horizon—
He moved.
As he approached the palace grounds, faint music drifted outward.
Decadent.
Indulgent.
His eyes beneath the mask flickered crimson.
Three tomoe rotated slowly.
"Two in the east. Three north. Two south… all jōnin-level."
"…A sensory barrier as well."
One sweep of his gaze—
And the entire defense network was laid bare.
He blurred forward.
Avoided every patrol.
Slipped past every blind spot.
No alarm was triggered.
No one noticed.
Hours later—
The moon hung high.
The banquet finally ended.
The Daimyō, feigning drunkenness, was escorted back to his chambers by attendants.
After settling him into bed, most withdrew.
Two remained on guard.
Silence returned.
In that instant—
A shadow flickered.
One attendant groaned softly and collapsed unconscious.
"Who goes there?!"
Two figures leapt in from outside, landing before the Daimyō's bed.
They stared warily at the cloaked intruder.
One was a bald monk.
His voice was tense.
"State your name and purpose!"
Yet beneath the firmness was fear.
The intruder had infiltrated undetected.
Had he not revealed himself—
They might never have known.
Fortunately—
He seemed… restrained.
The cloaked figure did not answer.
He simply looked at the Daimyō.
"Enough, Kazuma. Chikū. Stand down."
The Daimyō was sitting upright now.
His face still flushed—
But his eyes were perfectly clear.
So the hedonistic ruler was not so simple after all.
Kazuma and Chikū exchanged glances, stepping aside—but remaining alert.
The Daimyō addressed the intruder calmly.
"You come to my palace in the dead of night."
"What do you seek?"
"So long as your request is not unreasonable, I will consider it."
The cloaked figure raised a hand.
Pulled back his hood.
Removed the mask.
Then bowed slightly.
"Uchiha Shisui greets the Daimyō."
"Uchiha?"
All three stiffened.
Shisui lifted his head.
Crimson eyes glowed in the dim chamber.
Three tomoe turning slowly.
Recognition dawned.
The Daimyō's gaze sharpened.
A faint smile curved his lips.
"…Interesting."
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