"Konoha requires an explanation."
"For a terrorist organization deliberately stirring conflict in the shinobi world—this is absolutely unacceptable."
"Or is Amegakure provoking Konoha?"
Nara Shikaku sat behind the desk, fingers tapping rhythmically, his gaze cold as he stared down the envoy.
ANBU intelligence had already confirmed everything.
This was never a war.
Just a raid.
Take what they could—and leave.
As long as Hanzō wasn't a fool—
He would back down.
Because Konoha's blade—
Still carried fresh blood.
"Misunderstanding… all a misunderstanding, Shikaku-sama! Amegakure has no intention of provoking Konoha!"
The envoy bowed repeatedly.
A weak village had no voice in diplomacy.
Especially not before Konoha.
"Is that so?"
Shikaku leaned back slightly.
"Then withdraw."
"Your forces have taken enough from the Land of Iron. This ends now."
He didn't push further.
That wasn't the goal.
Driving them out—
Was enough.
Konoha needed time.
Time to recover.
Time to grow.
"Of course! I will report immediately. Within one month, all Amegakure shinobi will withdraw."
The envoy answered quickly.
One month—
More than enough to move their spoils.
And more importantly—
Avoid Konoha.
"Good."
Shikaku's expression eased.
"Make sure you follow through."
"Absolutely."
Outside the room—
The envoy from the Land of Iron rushed forward.
"They're withdrawing?!"
"…In one month."
"One month?!"
His face twisted.
They had paid dearly—
And still had to endure another month of plunder.
The Amegakure envoy smirked faintly.
"We've… had quite the harvest. It will take time to transport everything."
"YOU—!"
"Enough."
Shikaku cut him off coldly.
"One month. That is the limit."
He turned and left.
To him—
The deal was done.
The Amegakure envoy glanced at the samurai, eyes full of disdain.
"Samurai are like chicks before shinobi."
"Be grateful. This time—you got lucky."
He left.
The samurai stood frozen.
Humiliated.
Konoha didn't care.
Amegakure didn't respect them.
Only one truth remained—
The Land of Iron had to change.
Or perish.
Evening.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky orange.
"Finally off work…"
"So tired…"
"No night shift today!"
Inside the factory—
Uchiha Madara flexed his wrist slightly.
A bit of fatigue.
Nothing more.
Compared to fighting Hashirama Senju—
This was nothing.
"Boss, dinner together?"
"…No."
Madara refused.
Tonight—
He had something more important to do.
Restore his pride.
He walked through Konoha's streets—
And arrived at the card shop.
Crowded as ever.
Students packed the place.
Watching.
Waiting.
Dreaming.
Pathetic.
"Where's that kid…"
Itō Sōsuke wasn't there.
Pity.
He would miss this moment.
Madara stepped forward.
Pointed at the packs.
"I'll take everything."
"I'm collecting the full set."
He dropped a thick stack of cash.
"Start with a hundred."
Silence.
Then—
Gasps.
"Hashirama."
"Hashirama."
"Hashirama."
"…Tobirama. Tch."
"Another hundred."
Rip.
Rip.
Rip.
The atmosphere ignited.
No one had ever completed the set.
Some cards—
Were nearly impossible.
Madara.
Nine-Tails.
Only a handful existed.
And yet—
He kept going.
Another hundred.
Then another.
"COME ON!"
"OLD MAN, YOU'VE GOT THIS!"
"ALMOST THERE!"
His blood surged.
Ten years of cold solitude—
Could not extinguish it.
Now—
It burned again.
This feeling—
This pulse—
This thrill—
It was back.
"…There!"
"THE NINE-TAILS CARD!"
The crowd erupted.
"One more!"
"JUST ONE MORE!"
Madara slammed down more money.
"Another hundred!"
Then—
Another.
Still nothing.
"…Again."
More packs.
Faster hands.
Faster tearing.
Then—
"IT'S HERE!!!"
"Uchiha Madara!!!"
"THE FINAL CARD!!!"
The shop exploded.
He had done it.
Complete.
Perfect.
Madara covered his face—
And laughed.
"HAHAHAHA—!!!"
That wild, unrestrained laughter—
So familiar.
"So… he really is Uchiha…"
A nearby boy whispered.
Madara gathered the cards carefully, placing them into a box.
"Sir, a photo?"
"You're the first to complete the set."
Click.
Madara stiffly raised two fingers.
A crude "V".
"When would you like to meet the Hokage for your reward?"
"…No need."
"I'll be giving this away."
He waved it off.
Meeting Uchiha Ren?
Anytime.
If he wished.
He turned—
Ready to leave.
The shop owner called out.
"What about the rest of these cards?"
A mountain remained.
Madara glanced around.
Children.
Eyes shining.
Waiting.
"…Give them away."
"I don't need them."
He walked out.
Without looking back.
Behind him—
Cheers erupted.
Like thunder.
Mission accomplished.
Name unclaimed.
Madara smiled faintly.
Satisfied.
That was—
Exhilarating.