Land of Whirlpools — Eastern Coast Market
The entire marketplace was under strict lockdown.
In the center of the empty square, a single weapon stood planted in the ground—
More like a giant needle than a sword.
Then—
A ripple of space distorted the air.
In the next instant—
A group of people, along with nine ninja cats, appeared out of nowhere beside the blade.
“…Fugaku…”
Seeing her husband safe and sound, Uchiha Mikoto finally let out the breath she’d been holding.
She stepped forward and gently supported his arm.
Uchiha Fugaku said nothing—only patted the back of her hand reassuringly.
Then he raised his head.
Looking ahead.
“Hello, Clan Leader Fugaku.”
Mei Terumi had already approached, took a steady breath, and extended her hand.
“Hello.”
Fugaku shook it, his gaze calmly—but unmistakably—taking in the woman before him.
Compared to the memory of her “two-dimensional” image…
She was more real.
More striking.
And… even more impressive.
“…Ahem…”
Feeling his rather direct gaze, Mei hesitated before withdrawing her hand, her cheeks warming slightly.
“From now on… I look forward to working with you.”
“…It’s over.”
Not far away, Chojuro pushed up his glasses.
“Senior Ao… look at the Mizukage candidate… is she…?”
“…Fallen.”
Ao replied dryly, his uncovered eye fixed on Mei.
“I knew it!”
Chōjūrō clenched his fists.
“Marriage is her greatest weakness!”
“It’s understandable.”
Ao shrugged.
“The man standing there is Fugaku.”
“One of the strongest clan leaders in the shinobi world.
A Mangekyō wielder.
Someone who can reverse-summon hundreds at once.”
“That kind of strategic mobility… is unmatched.”
“It’d be strange if she didn’t feel something.”
“I’m not saying she shouldn’t!
But what if he sidelines her authority?!”
Ao glanced at him.
“Kid… you’re overthinking.”
“How so?”
“First—an outsider clan replacing a native one takes decades.”
“The Uchiha have only three hundred people.
Fewer than seventy can fight.”
“Second—even if it happens, that’s generations later.”
“The next Mizukage will be Mei.”
“And the one after… likely her child with Fugaku.”
“At that point, Uchiha blood will already sit in the Mizukage seat.”
“What ‘power struggle’ would even be left?”
“…I see…”
Chōjūrō nodded slowly.
Then—
BOOM!!
A deafening explosion tore through the eastern coast market.
“…Signal flare!!”
Ao’s expression darkened as he activated his Byakugan-like vision.
In an instant—
He saw it.
Chakra signatures.
Everywhere.
Surrounding the entire market—
Konoha shinobi.
“Enemy attack!
All units, alert!!”
His voice rang across the marketplace.
But—
Too late.
Almost at the same moment—
Konoha forces had already stormed the outer walls.
Countless shinobi—
Divided into squads—
Closing in from all directions.
A full encirclement.
“…Seems your plan was anticipated.”
Mei frowned, scanning the battlefield.
There were at least a thousand enemies—
And more importantly—
All chūnin.
An elite Konoha force.
“I brought only a small contingent to stay covert.
There are just three hundred Mist guards here…”
She paused.
“…Why are you not nervous at all?”
Beside her—
Fugaku remained calm.
Even casually holding his wife’s hand.
“Relax.”
“I’ve got this.”
Then—
He reached out—
And gently took Mei’s hand as well—
Placing it together with Mikoto’s.
“…Huh?”
On the city wall—
Danzo Shimura stood against the sea wind, robes billowing, bandaged arm exposed.
He saw Fugaku.
Saw the Uchiha.
Three hundred of them.
And for a moment—
He felt something close to… admiration.
Not for catching them.
But for his old friend—
Hiruzen Sarutobi.
He remembered that night.
At the border.
When Shikaku Nara had sent his analysis:
Fugaku’s true target—
Was Kirigakure.
At first, it sounded absurd.
Too far.
Too unlikely.
But the reasoning…
Was airtight.
Fugaku’s actions were contradictory—
If he wanted to hide, he wouldn’t expose himself after capturing the Hyūga.
Instead—
He deliberately revealed it.
Forcing Konoha to send ten thousand troops north.
A classic feint.
Draw the tiger from the mountain.
With all forces heading north—
His real destination could only be south.
And in the south—
Only one place connected to Kirigakure.
The Land of Whirlpools.
As for the “Bloody Mist” reputation—
Shikaku had argued:
Most victims were smaller clans.
Major clans like the Hōzuki and Terumi still remained.
Under such pressure—
They would inevitably unite.
And if a powerful, persecuted clan like the Uchiha came seeking refuge—
Would they refuse?
The answer was obvious.
That logic convinced Danzo.
But such a decision—
Could lead to war.
So he reported everything to Hiruzen.
And Hiruzen replied—
Without hesitation:
“Exterminate the Uchiha at all costs.”
“If Kirigakure wants war—”
“Then give them war.”
In that moment—
Danzo saw a glimpse of the man from decades ago.
The “Professor” who crushed nations during the Second Shinobi War.
Time had dulled him.
Politics had worn him down.
But at his core—
That ruthlessness remained.
Because no one understood better than them—
How terrifying a unified Uchiha clan could be.
…Hiruzen.
You’ve gone too far.
Danzo exhaled slowly.
Then looked down.
His gaze swept across the Mist shinobi…
The Uchiha…
And finally—
Settled on Mei Terumi.
“Clan Leader Mei.”
“Uchiha are Konoha’s rogue ninja.”
“According to shinobi law—any village harboring another’s rogue ninja is an act of hostility.”
His voice, amplified by Wind Release, echoed across the battlefield.
“Are you truly willing…”
“To go to war with Konoha…”
“For these three hundred people?”
“…Rogue ninja?”
Mei crossed her arms, chin raised.
Her voice rang just as clearly.
“You speak lightly, Lord Danzo.”
“Your oppression of the Uchiha is known across the world.”
“From the Second Hokage until now.”
“And yet—Fugaku has done nothing to harm Konoha.”
“He only took his people and left.”
“And still—you pursue them to the end?”
“…Heh.
‘Pursue to the end’…”
Danzo smirked.
“…Coming from Kirigakure, that’s rich.”
“Bloody Mist.”
He said the words slowly.
“You persecuted bloodline clans for over a decade.”
“In that regard—you are the worst in the shinobi world.”
“And now you expect your people…”
“To go to war for a foreign bloodline clan?”
“Ask them.”
“Would they be willing?”
“If they are—then what was your Bloody Mist policy worth?”
A ripple spread through the Mist ranks.
Some shinobi exchanged uneasy glances.
Doubt crept in.
Mei froze.
She wanted to refute—
But couldn’t.
Because it was partially true.
And what she sought to change…
Was still a secret.
Just a few words—
And Danzo had shaken her position.
At that moment—
A hand gently rested on her shoulder.
Warm.
Steady.
She turned.
Fugaku smiled at her.
Calm.
Confident.
“…Leave it to me.”
As he spoke, Fugaku stepped forward and moved in front of Mei, shielding her behind him.
He lifted his head and looked up at Danzo Shimura, but instead of speaking right away, his gaze shifted slightly and landed on Shikaku Nara.
“Shikaku, you really are clever.”
Shikaku stepped forward a little, his voice carrying a trace of helplessness.
“Clan Leader Fugaku, I only proposed a possibility.
It was the Third who made the final decision.”
“Is that so?” Fugaku smiled faintly.
“But the one who could think that far and convince him… in all of Konoha, that’s only you.”
He paused, then turned his attention back to Danzo.
“As expected of the ‘Professor.’ Ruthless as ever.
A thousand elite shinobi crossing the sea, lying in ambush, striking the moment they arrive… Hiruzen Sarutobi has finally regained a bit of his former edge.”
Danzo narrowed his eye and let out a cold snort, his chin lifting slightly.
“However…” Fugaku’s tone turned almost playful.
“There’s something I’ve always been curious about.”
His gaze swept across the Konoha formation—Root, ANBU, the young jōnin and chūnin.
“Kage guards exist to protect the Kage.
That’s common sense.
But I’ve never heard of a Kage sacrificing himself to protect his guards.
And even more interesting… as the core of Konoha, the Hashirama Senju lineage faded away so… naturally.”
Silence began to spread.
“The First Hokage’s grandson, Nawaki Senju, died at twelve—blown up by explosive tags.
The next Senju Clan Head, dying like that?
How… amusing.
Then there’s Dan Kato, Tsunade Senju’s lover, whose location was ‘coincidentally’ exposed, leading to his death.
And finally, Tsunade, who, after losing both her brother and her lover, abandoned everything and left the village.
Just like that, the Senju vanished from the center of power.”
Fugaku spread his hands lightly.
“Cut off at the root.
No chance of producing another Hokage.
Don’t you think… that’s a little too coincidental?”
The battlefield fell into dead silence.
Some younger shinobi exchanged uneasy glances—they knew the Senju had declined, but they had never questioned why.
“Shut up!
What nonsense are you spouting?!” someone shouted.
“Why?
You dare act but not admit it?” Fugaku’s voice sharpened.
“The things you old relics have done go far beyond this.
Sakumo Hatake—the White Fang—abandoned a mission to save his comrades, only to be driven to suicide by rumors.
What did he do wrong?
Isn’t Konoha always preaching the Will of Fire?
Where was that then?”
A gust of sea wind passed, and somewhere in the ranks, a white-haired masked shinobi trembled slightly.
“And then there’s Minato Namikaze,” Fugaku continued calmly.
“A genius Hokage.
On the night of the Nine-Tails, why was he the one forced to use the Reaper Death Seal?
Where was the Third Hokage?
Watching from behind.
A retired old man letting a twenty-four-year-old die using a suicidal technique.
How very ‘protective’ of the next generation.”
“Enough!!!”
Danzo’s chakra exploded outward, his robes whipping violently.
He raised his bandaged arm and roared, “All units—Combined Ninjutsu, prepare!”
The Konoha army moved instantly.
A thousand shinobi formed seals in unison, and the air began to tremble—not from wind, but from the gathering tide of chakra.
Though most of them were only chūnin, once their chakra linked together through a unified technique, the result became something terrifying—this was the true power of a shinobi army.
“Fire Release—Great Fire Annihilation—Combined Style!!!”
A thousand voices roared together.
Then came the flames.
Not a single burst, not a wave—but a sea of fire, vast enough to blot out the sky itself.
“…This is what you meant by ‘don’t worry’?” Mei Terumi muttered, her voice tightening slightly.
Even with three hundred Mist shinobi, this kind of attack was nearly impossible to stop.
“…Heh.”
But Fugaku smiled.
There was relief in that smile, along with mockery, disdain—and above all, the calm of someone who had already won his gamble.
A man from another world, inheriting everything of the Uchiha, had spent days planning, moving across thousands of kilometers, pushing every calculation to its limit.
And now, everything converged in this single moment.
From this day forward, his name would resound across the shinobi world.
He raised his head slightly, eyes turning crimson.
“Mangekyō Sharingan—activate.”
“Dōjutsu—Yomotsu Shokufu…”
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