“As you wish.” Shinsuke curled his lips into an almost cruel smile, completely unfazed by Fugaku’s imposing aura.
“Uncle, you’ve spent so long clinging to the Uchiha’s past glory that you’ve forgotten the most fundamental rule of the shinobi world.
The strong devour the weak.
Only the fittest survive.” “You’re still hoping to find common ground with Konoha?
Do you know how many Sharingan are hidden inside Root’s underground laboratory?
Do you know what’s concealed beneath the bandages Shimura Danzō wraps around himself every single day?” Leaning forward, his gaze became like two poisoned daggers that pierced straight into Fugaku’s eyes.
“Do you dare march into the Hokage Building right now and force Shimura Danzō to unwrap those bandages so you can see the truth with your own eyes?” “As an elite Jonin, do you really believe my parents died in a border accident?” “They were carrying out a top secret mission.
Besides you and the Hokage, who else knew their route?
Then why were they ambushed so precisely on their way back?” “And over the years, how many clan members have died under suspicious circumstances?
Have you really failed to notice any of it?” Each question struck Fugaku’s heart like a heavy hammer.
Shinsuke’s voice grew lower with every word, colder with every sentence.
“Uchiha Fugaku!
Fifty years ago, when Konoha was first founded, the Uchiha Clan had more than thirty thousand members.
Three thousand of them were battle ready shinobi.
We were truly the strongest clan in the entire shinobi world!” “But what about now?” “The entire clan has fewer than ten thousand people left, and there aren’t even a thousand shinobi capable of wielding a kunai!” “In just fifty years, we’ve lost more than two thirds of our people.
Do you really think the Uchiha are still the same clan that once stood shoulder to shoulder with the Senju?” “Do you know how many people the Sarutobi Clan has now?
Fifty thousand!
More than two thousand registered shinobi!
And that’s only what’s visible on the surface!” “And the Mitokado Clan.
When Konoha was founded, they barely had over a hundred members.
Now?
More than ten thousand people, with eight hundred shinobi!” “How do you think they rose to power?
Don’t tell me you don’t know.
They grew fat off the remains of the destroyed Senju Clan and the annihilated Uzumaki Clan!
The wealth accumulated by those two great clans over centuries became nourishment for Konoha’s four ruling clans!” “But fifty years have passed.
No matter how great that fortune was, it couldn’t last forever.
Three Shinobi World Wars have already drained Konoha dry!
Even now, more than half of the pensions promised to the families of those who died in the Third Shinobi World War still haven’t been paid!” His voice suddenly rose, carrying the determination of someone with nothing left to lose.
“With a hole that big, what are they supposed to fill it with?” “War reparations?
The higher ups divided them among themselves long ago!” “The military funding from the Daimyō?
It isn’t even enough to cover Konoha’s daily expenses!” “Or do you expect the Sarutobi and the others to pay out of their own pockets?
If it were you, would you spit out the meat already in your mouth?
Would you sacrifice your own clan’s interests just to fill that hole?” The tea room fell into deathly silence.
At some point, Fugaku had already sat back down.
Cold sweat trickled down the side of his face before dripping into the cup of cold tea, sending gentle ripples across its surface.
He wasn’t a fool.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen these things.
He simply didn’t dare think about them, much less tear away the final layer hiding the truth.
Hiruzen Sarutobi’s promise that “Konoha will always be the Uchiha’s home” had become bait he had swallowed years ago.
It had sunk deep into his flesh, and tearing it out now would only leave a bloody wound.
He had even foolishly believed sending Itachi into the ANBU was planting a piece of his own on the board.
Yet with only a few words, Shinsuke had shattered that illusion completely.
Shisui’s death.
Kagami’s fate.
One clan member after another who had died under mysterious circumstances during missions over the years.
Countless familiar faces flashed through his mind.
His chest heaved violently as he struggled to breathe.
His Sharingan had already faded, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to meet Shinsuke’s ice cold gaze.
His eyes shifted away in defeat while the hands resting on his knees trembled uncontrollably.
“Shinsuke…
many things aren’t as simple as you think.” After a long silence, Fugaku kept staring at the wooden grain of the low table, his voice as heavy as lead.
“Lord Hokage has already promised me that he’ll give the Uchiha an explanation…” “Uncle, I’ve already found a place that no one knows about.” Shinsuke looked at him calmly, his tone steady yet unquestionable.
“The Uchiha can’t afford to keep wasting time.
We need a chance to recover and rebuild.” “It’s too risky.
I won’t agree to it.” “Uncle, you should have heard of a trap master named Gen’ō from Enyō Village during the Second Shinobi World War.” Shinsuke’s voice was perfectly calm, yet every word carried a biting chill.
“He buried a hundred thousand explosive tags beneath Konoha.” Fugaku’s pupils shrank violently.
He shot to his feet as his crimson Sharingan flared back to life.
“Have you lost your mind?!” “I haven’t.” Facing Fugaku’s overwhelming fury, Shinsuke became even calmer.
His eyes were as cold as a frozen lake in the dead of winter.
“Unlike you, I won’t give up resisting just because of my son.
My Shadow Clone is with Uncle Ye right now.
The moment it disappears, he’ll carry out the plan immediately.” Those words struck like a bolt of lightning, leaving Fugaku ice cold.
Uchiha Ye was his father’s sworn brother, the man he had pulled out of a mountain of corpses years ago.
He was also one of the clan’s few elite Jonin who had awakened the Three Tomoe Sharingan.
After Shinsuke’s parents died, Ye had become both his sharpest blade and his most dependable support.
He obeyed only Shinsuke’s orders.
Even the Clan Head’s commands might not move him.
If those hundred thousand explosive tags really detonated, more than half of Konoha would be reduced to rubble.
When that happened, no matter how he tried to explain it, Hiruzen Sarutobi would seize the opportunity to brand the Uchiha as rebels and wipe out the entire clan with complete justification.
A chill rushed from the soles of Fugaku’s feet straight to his scalp, leaving him numb as he ground out through clenched teeth, “You’re completely insane!” “Uncle, there are only two paths left.” Shinsuke’s voice remained level, yet every word struck like a hammer against Fugaku’s heart.
“Come with me, save Sasuke, and save the entire Uchiha Clan.
Or cling to your meaningless hope and watch every last member of the clan die.” Fugaku’s chest rose and fell violently as he glared at the boy before him.
After a long silence, he finally forced out a single sentence through gritted teeth.
“You aren’t afraid I’ll kill you right here?” “Of course I am.” Shinsuke curled his lips into a smile devoid of warmth.
“That’s why I made arrangements long ago.
Uncle Ye is already waiting with everyone willing to follow me.” “If you refuse today, I’ll die for certain.
Since I’m dead either way, why shouldn’t I drag Konoha down with me and let it be buried alongside the Uchiha?” A suffocating silence spread through the tea room.
It lasted so long that Mikoto’s fingertips turned pale from gripping her clothes, and even her breathing became almost inaudible.
Fugaku looked at his eleven year old nephew.
Looking into those eyes filled with the resolve to shatter jade rather than survive as broken tile, he finally seemed to deflate.
His shoulders slowly slumped as his voice trembled uncontrollably.
“What exactly is your plan?” “I awakened a special ability that can take our entire clan to a new world no one knows exists.” Shinsuke finally restrained the hostility radiating from him, his tone becoming much calmer.
“That land is larger than the Land of Fire.
There are no Konoha spies, no enemies watching us, and no one knows where we came from.” “Before we leave, we’ll sell every clan business at a low price and convert everything into supplies and food.” “At the same time, we’ll activate the clan compound’s defensive barrier to buy ourselves time.
Then we’ll detonate the explosive tags and throw the entire village into chaos.” “While everyone is distracted, I’ll open the portal and move every clan member and all our supplies out of Konoha in the shortest time possible.” “No one except me will know where we’ve gone.” He paused before adding the most crucial piece of information.
“We don’t have much time left.
My ability showed me that Shimura Danzō has already joined forces with Orochimaru and developed a way to suppress Hashirama Cells.” “Hashirama Cells?” Fugaku froze, unable to believe what he had just heard.
Even his voice cracked.
“You mean…
the cells of the First Hokage, Lord Hashirama?” “What else?” Shinsuke sneered.
“Shimura Danzō has been secretly digging up the First Hokage’s grave for more than ten years to research those cells.” “Hashirama Cells can completely change a person’s fate.
They greatly enhance physical ability, chakra reserves, and, for those with exceptional talent, can even awaken Wood Release.” “But you know how terrifying the vitality within the First Hokage’s cells is.
Ordinary people can’t withstand them.
They’ll simply be consumed and reduced to a mass of flesh.” “How many lives do you think Danzō has thrown away for those experiments?” His eyes suddenly turned icy, as sharp as frozen blades.
“In the end, he set his sights on the Uchiha.
He discovered that the Uchiha’s Three Tomoe Sharingan could suppress the backlash of Hashirama Cells.” Those words pierced through the final layer of self deception Fugaku had been clinging to.
Every ounce of strength drained from his body.
He collapsed where he sat, nothing but despair remaining in his eyes.
So from the very beginning, Konoha’s higher ups had never intended to leave the Uchiha any path to survival.
What they coveted had never been whether the Uchiha would rebel.
It was their Sharingan, and the bloodline capable of suppressing Hashirama Cells.
He thought of Itachi, who had rarely returned home after Shisui’s death and had even stopped attending clan meetings.
His heart felt as though it were being crushed by an invisible hand, making it hard to breathe.
“Can you truly guarantee that world will let the Uchiha survive?” he asked with his head lowered, his voice hoarse as though scraped raw.
He didn’t dare meet Shinsuke’s eyes.
Shinsuke raised his chin.
His face carried a ruthlessness and confidence far beyond his years as every word rang with absolute certainty.
“As long as you follow me, the Uchiha won’t just survive.
We’ll rise again.
A grudge carried for nine generations can still be avenged.
Every humiliation Konoha has forced upon the Uchiha today, I’ll repay a hundredfold in the future!” Looking at the boy before him and remembering his words about dragging all of Konoha into the grave, only four words came to Fugaku’s mind.
He never forgives.
He had endured for so many years.
He had compromised again and again, only to be rewarded with extermination.
Since his path had led nowhere, then he would gamble everything on this one chance.
Taking a deep breath, he exhaled decades of restraint and bitterness.
When he spoke again, his voice was filled with the resolve of someone willing to stake everything.
“Fine!
Shinsuke!
I’ll trust you this once!
Since Hiruzen Sarutobi refuses to leave us a way to live, then the Uchiha aren’t helpless prey waiting to be slaughtered either!”