Beside him, Uchiha Yakumi nodded, a look of gratification also appearing in his eyes.
As Shingen’s direct superior, his understanding of the boy ran even deeper than that of the Clan Head.
“That child, Shingen, possesses many talents that other clan members do not, and he certainly isn’t lacking in raw aptitude.”
“After experiencing the life-or-death crisis tonight, that lazy, utterly unmotivated personality of his should rein itself in significantly.
The fact that he actively asked for ninjutsu instead of a monetary bonus is already a fantastic sign.”
“He must have finally realized that his current power is far, far from enough.”
Saying this, Yakumi looked toward the direction where Shingen and Shisui had vanished, a hint of genuine hope dawning on his face:
“Who knows?
By the time their generation fully matures, the Uchiha’s situation in the village might be much better than it is today.”
Fugaku remained noncommittal to this optimistic sentiment.
He turned his gaze toward the distant Hokage Building, his eyes gradually turning ice-cold:
“I could pretend I didn’t see Danzo secretly increasing his surveillance teams.”
“But for him to directly attempt to assassinate Shingen and Shisui tonight…
that is blatantly challenging the absolute bottom line of the Uchiha.”
“If we allow him to continue acting so recklessly without consequences, next time it won’t just be a simple assassination attempt against two children.
He must be forced to give an explanation!”
“The Hokage also needs to show a clear, definitive stance on this matter.”
“Otherwise…
I won’t be able to hold back the rabid dogs within the clan anymore.”
The moment his voice faded.
The two men walked shoulder-to-shoulder toward the brightly lit Hokage Building.
…
What exactly transpired in the upper echelons of Konoha that night, Shingen had absolutely no idea, nor did he care.
He considered himself a nobody.
He didn’t have the supreme power, nor the necessity, to concern himself with what the big shots were scheming.
All he had ever wanted was a simple, stable job and a peaceful life of slacking off.
The moment he got home.
Shingen couldn’t wait to place the newly acquired ninjutsu scrolls on his desk.
The most eye-catching one was undoubtedly the scroll detailing the Halo Dance technique sitting right on top.
The entirely crimson scroll was covered in the distinct marks of frequent use by its previous owners.
Shingen slowly unrolled it, reading it word for word.
Soon enough.
Shingen gained a solid, preliminary understanding of the Halo Dance technique.
It was an exceedingly rare form of Nintaijutsu.
Without needing to weave a single hand seal, the user could violently compress a massive amount of Fire Release chakra and unleash it as a blazing, sword-like crescent slash.
Its raw destructive power was entirely dependent on the user’s chakra reserves and their mastery over Fire Release.
The higher those two attributes were, the more devastating the Halo Dance became.
If this were a video game, it would be a top-tier skill that relied on both broken mechanics and raw stats—a skill you could comfortably spam all the way to the final boss.
Furthermore, as a Nintaijutsu, the potential for expanding and modifying the Halo Dance was undoubtedly phenomenal. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Within this very scroll, it recorded a past user who successfully combined the Halo Dance with the Body Flicker technique, developing a specialized variant ninjutsu known as the Sun Halo Dance.
Not only did it possess even greater destructive power, but it also remarkably exhibited certain characteristics of Wind Release.
Later on, that Uchiha ancestor relied on this exact ability to carve out the terrifying moniker of “Flame incarnate” across the entire shinobi world.
“This can absolutely serve as my primary offensive technique, and it will naturally evolve as my base stats increase.
My future training will primarily focus on this.”
Saying this, Shingen set down the Halo Dance scroll.
His gaze fell upon the other scrolls resting on the desk, and he began unrolling and examining them one by one.
“The Sharingan-exclusive Genjutsu: Demonic Illusion: Shackling Stakes Technique; the Genjutsu-rebounding technique: Demonic Illusion: Mirror Heaven and Earth Change; and the Uchiha’s Comprehensive Guide to Fire Release Mastery…”
“They are all incredibly practical and powerful abilities.
The Clan Head truly put some thought into this.”
After briefly skimming through all these scrolls, Shingen noticed it was already past 2:00 AM.
He was just about to turn off the lights and go to sleep.
But his eyes were unconsciously drawn to the very last scroll left on the desk.
“Whatever.
It’s already this late anyway.
I might as well just read through them all so I can accurately prioritize my training schedule.”
He reached out, unrolled the last scroll, only to discover that it merely recorded a relatively common ninjutsu:
“The Shadow Clone Technique?!”
“By evenly dividing the user’s chakra, one can create a solid, physical clone.
The clone possesses an independent consciousness and is fully capable of engaging in physical combat and casting ninjutsu.”
“Furthermore, upon the clone’s dispersion, all fatigue, memories, and accumulated experience will be perfectly transmitted back to the original body.”
“…”
“Hold on!”
“Memories and experience are transmitted back too?!”
Shingen’s finger froze on that specific line of text.
If he mastered the Shadow Clone Technique and simply sent a clone off to train his ninjutsu, didn’t that mean he could just continue happily slacking off at his Police Force job in person?!
Shingen’s interest was instantly piqued to the maximum, and he began reading through it with fervent enthusiasm.
It wasn’t until the morning sunlight streamed through the window and illuminated the scroll in his hands…
…that Shingen finally realized he had unknowingly—and very uncharacteristically—pulled an entire all-nighter.
He had just prepared to lie down and rest his eyes for a few minutes when the alarm clock on his desk erupted with a frantic, piercing ring.
“Great.”
“An all-nighter it is, then.”
“This body is young anyway.
Doing it once or twice shouldn’t be a big deal.”
A few minutes later.
Shingen dragged his heavy, groggy head out the door.
After routinely clocking in at the Police Force entrance, he yawned all the way to his familiar patrol route in South District 4.
After briefly delegating the day’s patrol tasks, Shingen turned his head and immediately spotted Jiraiya sitting in the teahouse in the distance, enthusiastically waving at him.
“Yo!”
“I got delayed by the old man for a few days, but now it’s time to restart our grand enterprise!”
“Shingen-kun!”
Recalling the traumatic events of last night, Shingen initially intended to refuse.
But thinking about those hundreds of millions of Ryo in royalties, he forcefully swallowed his pride and annoyance.
He took a few steps over to their usual tea table.
Looking down, he realized that a massive pile of discarded manuscript drafts was scattered messily across the surface.
“Did you…
write all night and not produce a single usable result?!”
“I just wrote these this morning.”
Jiraiya shook his head.
Noticing Shingen’s unsteady footsteps and the dark, heavy bags under his eyes, an expression of “I understand you perfectly” appeared on his face:
“Young people have great stamina, but you still need to learn moderation.
Messing around recklessly at your age will negatively affect your physical development.”
The corner of Shingen’s mouth twitched, and he instantly shot back:
“And you, you old bastard?
Do you even have the ability to mess around anymore?
You probably have to get up to use the bathroom ten times a night, don’t you?!”
Jiraiya’s old face flushed bright red, instantly denying it:
“Nonsense!”
Noticing Shingen’s highly skeptical gaze, Jiraiya hurriedly changed the subject:
“You don’t know this, but the old man threw a massive fit last night.
He absolutely blasted Danzo.
All of Root’s surveillance on the Uchiha clan has been completely withdrawn.”
“You don’t need to worry about anyone trying to assassinate you in the middle of the night anymore.”
Shingen lowered his eyes, staring at the scattered manuscript pages on the table.
He pressed his lips together lightly, his heart far from calm.
He felt a deep, suffocating sense of injustice.
If Jiraiya had arrived even a single second later last night, he and Shisui would undoubtedly have been murdered.
Yet the ultimate punishment the mastermind received was merely the removal of illegal surveillance that shouldn’t have existed in the first place, and a light verbal reprimand.
Suddenly, he completely understood why the voices calling for an armed coup within the Uchiha clan had never truly died down.
It was sickeningly unfair, but this was the cold, hard reality the Uchiha faced in Konoha.
Seeing his prolonged silence, Jiraiya sighed inwardly and said softly:
“This is already the best possible outcome.”
“If you truly don’t want to wade into Konoha’s muddy political waters…
do you want to travel with me?
We can journey all across the shinobi world and finally complete our absolute masterpiece.”