Online 10: Chapter 10: System Upgrade!
Online Clatter.
The rag in Yuya’s hand dropped to the floor.
This time, he wasn’t acting; he was genuinely scared stiff.
Facing a living Yama who could scramble one’s brains with Tsukuyomi at any moment, even the strongest mental resilience would instinctively sound a frantic alarm.
Even though the courtyard gate was bolted shut, Uchiha Itachi stood silently in the center of the yard.
He wasn’t wearing his Anbu uniform, just plain dark casual clothes.
But under the moonlight, that tangible pressure was more terrifying than heavy armor.
“Sh-shall we go inside to talk?” Yuya asked tentatively, his voice trembling just enough.
Uchiha Itachi didn’t move.
“We’ll talk right here.” Yuya obediently walked to the veranda, deliberately keeping a safe distance of five meters.
This distance appeared submissive, yet hinted at a touch of wariness.
Of course, for Uchiha Itachi, five meters and five centimeters were no different.
“What is the purpose of your recent actions?” No pleasantries, no probing—a direct question was thrown straight at him.
Yuya swallowed, his brain racing frantically.
Play dumb?
That was a guaranteed death sentence.
Confess everything?
He’d receive a Tsukuyomi combo on the spot.
He had to walk a razor-thin tightrope between these two extremes.
“Because…
I feel like I’m going to die soon.” Yuya’s voice was very soft, conveying a sense of resigned despair and acceptance.
“The atmosphere in the clan is wrong.
I can’t put my finger on what’s off, but I can feel it.
Everyone is guarding against something; patrols have increased, gatherings have decreased, and even the auntie next door is frantically hoarding food.” He paused and looked up, but his gaze remained fixed firmly on Uchiha Itachi’s chin—one must never look at the Sharingan; that was common knowledge.
“I can’t beat anyone.
If something were to happen, I wouldn’t even have the right to run.
So I thought…
at least, I should let people know I died.” The courtyard fell into a deathly silence.
Uchiha Itachi didn’t respond.
Yuya’s heart was pounding like a drum, but he gritted his teeth, playing the role of a desperate, terrified youth to the absolute limit.
“You chose to tie your name to mine.” Uchiha Itachi finally spoke, his voice still devoid of emotion.
“Why me?” “Because you are the only one…
who I felt wouldn’t kill people indiscriminately.” Yuya took a deep breath: “Those uncles in the clan take their anger out on us whenever they drink.
The people in the Konoha Military Police Force look at me like I’m a stray dog on the street.
Only you…
that day at the shrine, you didn’t hit me.” These words were seventy percent true and thirty percent false.
The truth was that Uchiha Itachi indeed hadn’t attacked him; the lie was his motivation.
But from Uchiha Itachi’s perspective, this logic formed a perfect loop: a marginalized person long bullied, in extreme fear, desperately clutching at a straw that had never harmed him.
Pathological, but extremely logical.
Uchiha Itachi was silent for a long time.
So long that the cold sweat on Yuya’s back had completely soaked his clothes.
“You shouldn’t do anything unnecessary again.” Uchiha Itachi’s voice suddenly came from above; he had stepped forward twice without Yuya noticing.
“Do not approach Sasuke.
Do not go to the Konoha Military Police Force again.
Do not mention my name in any public setting.” Three prohibitions, each word like a blade.
But Yuya’s hanging heart suddenly dropped back into his chest.
Uchiha Itachi didn’t say “otherwise I will kill you.” He said “do not.” The subtext was: as long as you stay honestly within these boundaries, I won’t touch you for now.
Yuya nodded frantically, burying his face in the shadows: “I won’t go…
I won’t go anywhere anymore…” A slight sound of wind breaking rang out.
That suffocating pressure vanished completely.
Yuya’s legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the wooden planks of the veranda, gasping for breath.
He had won the gamble.
Uchiha Itachi coming to confirm in person meant his previous actions had indeed created enough intelligence noise.
Uchiha Itachi didn’t fear trouble, but he would never voluntarily detonate a “ticking time bomb” that was already officially registered before the butcher’s knife fell.
Yuya crawled back into the house in the dark and locked the doors and windows.
Just as he sat down, the long-silent system in his mind suddenly flashed.
[Ding!
Phased evaluation complete.
Host survival weight increased: Adjusted from “Instant Death Level” to “High Danger Level.”] [New forum feature unlocked: Host can input specific directions to guide netizen suggestions, but the final high-voted content remains uncontrollable.
(From only being able to passively accept suggestions, to being able to guide netizens to provide suggestions in specific directions.)] Yuya stared at the blinking input box, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Uchiha Itachi’s warning was just a temporary amulet.
Once the night of the clan massacre began and the machine of slaughter started running, who would care who you were?
To truly survive, he had to create a crack in the massacre itself.
And the crack easiest to pry open wasn’t Uchiha Itachi, but that old schemer hiding in the shadows waiting to scavenge eyes—Danzo Shimura.
As long as he made Uchiha Itachi suspect that Danzo Shimura had other tricks up his sleeve outside the plan, or even attempted to strike at the Uchiha early, then Uchiha Itachi would have to re-evaluate the situation.
Even if it only made him hesitate for an hour, for Yuya, that was a bargaining chip for a comeback against the odds.
In the input box, he decisively typed a line: [Urgent!
Is there any way to make Danzo Shimura carry a massive, unexplainable scapegoat before the night of the clan massacre?] Click, send.
The goofy forum in his mind instantly exploded.
The speed at which replies refreshed was even crazier than last time.
“1st Floor: I know this one!
Go to Hokage Rock and hang a banner for Danzo Shimura: ‘Konoha’s Number One Eye Thief,’ guaranteed to cause a sensation throughout the village!” “3rd Floor: Just send a funeral wreath directly to the Root base!
Write’Spirit Tablet of Danzo Shimura’ on it, and play the Great Compassion Mantra while you’re at it.” “7th Floor: Forge a secret order from Root, just write ‘Uchiha operation moved up to tonight,’ and intentionally drop it on the path where the Anbu patrol.” Yuya shook his head as he read.
These netizens loved to watch chaos, but these operations weren’t about framing someone; they were just sending him to his death.
He patiently scrolled down.
Suddenly, a reply posted less than ten seconds ago, but with likes skyrocketing, was pushed to the very front.
[Hot comment rising (ID: Conspiracy Theory Master): Brother, high-end games often only need the most simple scapegoats.
If you want to frame Danzo Shimura, the core is to make Uchiha Itachi develop a sense of ‘distrust.’ You don’t need to actually pull off any big moves; you just need to create an illusion that ‘Root is acting early.’ For example, have Uchiha Itachi accidentally discover that Root members were privately contacting Uchiha clan members on the eve of the massacre!
And you, having already filed a report with the Konoha Military Police Force, are the perfect ‘contacted bait’!] Yuya stared at this reply, the gears in his mind starting to spin wildly.
The core logic of this suggestion was: there was no need to actually stir up big trouble, just create the illusion that “Root is acting early.” And he himself was the best prop.
He was already in Root’s files.
If he could let Uchiha Itachi discover traces that “Root had attempted to contact Yuya,” then Uchiha Itachi would suspect: did Danzo Shimura have his own secret agenda outside the massacre plan?
Once Uchiha Itachi developed distrust toward Danzo Shimura, cracks would appear in the execution of the entire plan.
And cracks were the space for him to survive.
Yuya bookmarked this reply and closed the forum interface.
Outside the window, the horizon was already tinged with the white of dawn.
He stood up, walked to the calendar, and tapped his finger lightly on the red circle.
Want to kill me?
Then let’s see, who will bite whom first tonight!