It wasn’t that Qiyu hated Shisui enough to mock him like this.
The problem was that Shisui’s loyalty to the Hokage bordered on blind devotion—and Itachi had been deeply influenced by him.
Of course, part of Qiyu also felt indignant on Shisui’s behalf.
Shisui might be blindly loyal, but at least he had genuinely done everything he could for both the village and the clan until the very end.
A complicated expression crossed Shisui’s face, and a trace of bitterness rose in his heart.
“I’m sorry, Qiyu.
I’m not like the Fourth Hokage.”
“Heh.
So even you know you’re different.” Qiyu sneered.
“But who exactly are you apologising to?”
“Do you know who you’ve wronged the most?”
“Yourself!”
“What have you even done wrong?
You leave early and return late every day, running yourself ragged from morning until night.
You live like a dog—coming whenever you’re called and leaving whenever you’re dismissed.
And what has it earned you?”
“The village still guards against you, while the clan has begun to resent you.
Neither side accepts you.
If this continues, where will you even belong?”
Qiyu’s relentless questioning was meant to shake Shisui awake.
Yet as their eyes met, all Qiyu saw was unwavering determination.
He sighed inwardly.
“Qiyu, complaining won’t change anything.”
Shisui patted him on the shoulder.
“Where the leaves dance, the flames will burn.
We are all part of Konoha.
Instead of constantly complaining that the village hasn’t given us enough, we should ask ourselves what we can do for the village.”
“Only when the village is peaceful and stable can those of us who live in Konoha enjoy safe and prosperous lives.
The reason I work so hard is so that none of you will have to face the situation I’m in now.”
“Only when the village is strong can we avoid another war.
You don’t want to see Konoha decline either, do you?
Itachi was sent to the battlefield at such a young age.
Surely you remember that.”
Looking at Shisui, who practically seemed to have a halo shining behind his head, Qiyu felt his stomach turn.
The Will of Fire again.
Is this thing poisonous?
It was nothing more than a simple recruitment slogan, yet it had managed to deceive one of the Uchiha clan’s greatest geniuses so thoroughly that he would ultimately die a miserable death because of it.
Compared with the ideologies of the great leaders from his previous life—or the methods political parties around the world used to shape public thought—Konoha’s Will of Fire was almost childishly simple.
Still, Qiyu could understand why it worked.
The shinobi world was ideologically barren.
Thus, when a philosophy centred on sacrifice and collective devotion appeared—and was presented as absolute truth by the most powerful man of that era—it naturally became a guiding light in this world.
But understanding it did not mean Qiyu would accept it.
Especially when that ideology would eventually be built upon the destruction of his entire family.
That was something he could never tolerate.
He loved his gentle mother.
Fugaku might be stern and rigid, but no one could deny that he was a good father.
His younger brother was so obedient and thoughtful.
In his previous life, Qiyu had been an orphan.
Everything he possessed now was something he had once longed for more than anything else.
From the moment he was born into this world, he had gone from discomfort, to fear that all of this was merely a dream, and finally to slowly accepting his new life.
He had sworn long ago that he would protect everything beautiful he now possessed.
He would never allow it to be taken from him again.
That was also why Qiyu disliked seeing Shisui.
His younger brother admired the young man far too much.
Watching Itachi stand to the side with an earnest expression, clearly taking Shisui’s words to heart, Qiyu felt his irritation flare again.
It wasn’t as though Qiyu had never tried to change Shisui’s thinking.
But the man was as stubborn as an ox.
Once he chose a path, he would follow it into darkness, refusing to turn back until he smashed headfirst into a wall.
Qiyu desperately wished he could awaken Kotoamatsukami right now and cast it on this halo-wreathed fool, forcing some sense into his head with a single glance.
Unfortunately, his cheat could not do that.
Qiyu felt a wave of melancholy.
Ever since binding himself to the system, he had already embarked on a completely different path from the shinobi of this world.
When no one was around, he had even tried provoking his own emotions to awaken the Sharingan.
The results had been deeply moving.
Aside from staring at empty air until his eyes became dry and sore, it had accomplished absolutely nothing.
Perhaps as his cultivation advanced and spiritual energy transformed his body more thoroughly, it might activate the bloodline hidden within him.
However, Qiyu had a strong premonition that his stubborn cultivation system would never give him the Sharingan.
He and Itachi were both six years old now.
According to the timeline, there were still more than six years before Danzo stole Shisui’s eye and Itachi, manipulated by Obito, chose to massacre the clan.
Those six years would be Qiyu’s period of development.
With his current strength, he could barely fight an elite jōnin on equal footing.
However, he was still some distance away from defeating a Kage-level powerhouse.
Even so, Qiyu was confident that within four years, he would unquestionably enter the ranks of the Kage-level.
As long as his cultivation advanced another stage and reached the realm of Refining Qi into Spirit, granting him sufficient spiritual power to wield, and as long as one of his Five-Element Dao Arts reached the Perfect level—
Then, in the current Konoha, no one would be his match.
Unless the First Hokage and Madara crawled out of their graves.
“Hmph.
Your words sound impressive, but what have they actually accomplished?” Qiyu scoffed.
“Do the village elders even see your efforts?
This is nothing more than your own wishful thinking.”
Seeing that Shisui was about to continue influencing his younger brother, Qiyu immediately pulled Itachi behind him.
Before Shisui could argue, Qiyu changed the subject.
“By the way, you didn’t come here today without bringing us gifts, did you?”
His tone was openly teasing.
Shisui, who had been preparing to deliver another grand speech, froze.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“Of course not.
I just got so caught up teaching you two about the Will of Fire that I nearly forgot.”
With that, Shisui took out two sealing scrolls from behind his back.
He formed the release hand seal.
Poof!
Poof!
Two swords appeared before them.
Both had sleek, elegant designs and dark crimson scabbards.
Their lengths were perfectly suited to Qiyu and Itachi’s current heights.
Qiyu unceremoniously picked one up and drew the blade.
A cold gleam flashed across his face.
He weighed the sword in his hand, tested its balance, and found that it felt quite comfortable.
Then his gaze slid towards Shisui, who still looked somewhat foolish standing there.
“I suppose you put some thought into this.”
Their family did not lack weapons forged from chakra metal.
However, considering Shisui’s circumstances, these two swords had probably cost him more than half a year’s savings.
That sincerity carried considerable weight.
Qiyu’s artifact-refining skill had already reached the Intermediate level.
Once he returned home, he could ask his father for some chakra metal and refine the sword into a low-grade magical weapon.
That should not be a problem.
“My mother has probably finished preparing dinner.
Why don’t you come to our house and eat with us?”
Qiyu’s heart softened despite himself.
“No, no.
I shouldn’t trouble Aunt Mikoto.”
Shisui hurriedly refused.
“I still have to report my mission to the Third Hokage later.”
He had no problem spending time alone with Qiyu and Itachi.
But whenever he had to face the clan head, he always felt an inexplicable pressure weighing down on him.
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