Uchiha Kei paid little mind to the members of Shisui’s branch who constantly tried to approach him with hidden intentions.
There was a saying he rather liked: When you stand in the shadow of the great clans, all you see are the backs of those who dictate your fate.
Compared to Shisui’s branch, Kei’s faction was living in luxury.
So, from Kei’s perspective, no matter what they truly thought, they had to greet him with friendly smiles.
As for how he treated them…
That depended entirely on his mood.
If he was in a good mood, he would be courteous.
If he wasn’t, he would reprimand them without hesitation.
Either way, they had no choice but to accept it.
They didn’t even have the courage to refuse.
Because no one would stand up for them.
Their branch couldn’t truly integrate into the village…
Nor were they particularly welcomed by the rest of the Uchiha Clan.
There was no helping it.
They were paying for the mistakes of their ancestors.
As descendants of Uchiha Kagami, they had inherited his philosophy.
They were Uchiha by blood, yet sought closer ties with the Hokage, hoping to help the clan integrate into Konoha through understanding and goodwill.
To most Uchiha…
That idea was ridiculous.
The Uchiha never wanted people to love them.
They wanted people to fear them.
To respect them.
Even worse, Kagami hadn’t sought to make Konoha accept the Uchiha.
He wanted the Uchiha to devote themselves to Konoha.
That was the greatest irony.
The Uchiha had already rejected Madara Uchiha, choosing the village over their own legendary clan leader.
If that wasn’t proof of loyalty, then what was?
They simply weren’t the type to say such things aloud.
From the clan’s point of view, they had already done their part.
Now it was Konoha’s turn to return that loyalty.
Instead, they received suspicion and exclusion.
Resentment had naturally accumulated.
Yet Kagami wanted them to sacrifice even more.
To the average Uchiha…
It felt like emotional manipulation.
Kei couldn’t help comparing it to a toxic relationship.
When someone couldn’t leave a bad relationship, it was often because they’d already invested too much.
Walking away meant admitting everything had been for nothing.
The Uchiha felt exactly the same.
They had sacrificed so much already.
Now one of their own wanted them to give even more?
Even if the clan couldn’t express it in such clear terms…
That was the essence of their dissatisfaction.
Of course, ordinary clan members and clan leaders rarely viewed matters the same way.
The average person cared about fairness.
Justice.
Personal interests.
If those couldn’t be achieved…
Then they would rather fight to the death.
Leaders, however, had different concerns.
If the Uchiha truly broke away from Konoha…
How would they survive?
How would they withstand Konoha’s retaliation?
How would they protect the clan’s civilians?
If none of those questions had satisfactory answers…
Then remaining in Konoha was the only realistic choice.
And if they stayed…
They had to find ways to coexist with the village.
For that reason, Kagami’s actions had quietly received the support of the Uchiha Clan Head at the time.
The message was simple: “I can’t support you publicly.” “The clan wouldn’t accept it.” “But I won’t interfere either.” Unfortunately…
The ordinary clan members never knew about that private approval.
Nor would they have accepted it if they had.
What was the outcome?
During the Second Shinobi World War, whenever Konoha needed someone to undertake the most dangerous missions…
It was always Kagami’s branch that stepped forward.
As a result…
Dying young became almost a family tradition.
On the battlefield, no matter how powerful you were…
Survival depended as much on luck as skill.
An entire branch gradually withered away.
Now only Shisui, Obito, and a handful of distant relatives remained.
There weren’t even enough family members left to look after one another.
Their daily lives were managed by elderly women who had married into the Uchiha Clan decades ago—widows who had themselves lost loved ones during the wars.
Among the men of Kagami’s line…
Reaching the age of twenty-five seemed almost impossible.
Not one of them ever did.
And Kei knew something even more tragic.
Within another year or two…
Their numbers would shrink again.
If the bloodline continued after that…
It would practically require a miracle.
Kei couldn’t help chuckling.
“Hopefully someone in their branch awakens a cheat ability like mine.” “Otherwise, one day there won’t even be anyone left to visit their graves.” “Would they have to keep working in the Pure Land just to make ends meet?” “That would be far too pitiful.” The thought amused him.
Living in a world where personal strength determined everything had taught Kei one important lesson.
Knowledge of the future wasn’t nearly as valuable as people imagined.
Knowing the plot.
Knowing everyone’s personalities.
Knowing future events.
None of that mattered if you lacked the strength to survive.
Some people imagined that, armed with foreknowledge, they could persuade every important character through clever speeches.
Kei found that laughable.
If talking alone solved everything…
Could you even convince your own parents every time?
If not…
Why would legendary shinobi listen to you?
In a world ruled by overwhelming power…
Prophecy was meaningless without the strength to back it up.
Yet if you left the familiar storyline entirely…
Then your greatest advantage as a transmigrator disappeared.
So what was the point?
Compared to all of that…
Having a cheat ability was far more reliable.
Kei’s system was rather aloof.
It never chatted with him.
Never acted cute.
Never behaved like the cheerful systems found in so many novels.
It simply existed.
Although it lacked personality…
It was incredibly useful.
Its functionality was both simple and powerful.
Summoning.
Every tier summons card it produced was based on a famous shinobi from another fictional world.
Once summoned, they became living, breathing people.
Their original combat abilities might not match those of Naruto’s world.
But they all possessed lifetimes of experience as shinobi.
Combined with the Sharingan they received upon summoning…
Each instantly became a competent ninja in this world.
The system also allowed Kei to dispatch them on special missions.
These assignments were completely safe.
The only restriction was their deployment requirements.
Some missions demanded at least one Purple-tier Summon .
Others required multiple Purple-tier Summon s.
Higher-level missions required Orange-tier Summons.
Unfortunately…
Kei didn’t own even one Orange-tier Summon.
So many missions remained inaccessible.
Most available assignments were laughably simple.
Patrols.
Routine duties.
Odd jobs.
The sort of work no hidden village would even bother posting in its Mission Office.
Yet the rewards were astonishing.
Large amounts of System Points.
Those points could be exchanged for almost anything: MoneyResourcesRare materialsNinjutsuEquipment Without support from the clan, Kei’s entire branch survived through those rewards.
Supporting over two hundred people required enormous resources.
Fortunately…
The system solved that problem.
He had already accumulated a considerable stockpile of points.
Sadly, the truly valuable rewards required not only vast quantities of points…
But also Orange-tier Summon mission completions.
And without Orange-tier Summons…
Those rewards remained forever out of reach.
The greatest disappointment of all?
There was no cash shop.
Otherwise, the strategy would’ve been perfect.
Summon shinobi.
Send them on missions.
Earn resources.
Spend resources.
Summon more shinobi.
An endless cycle.
It would’ve been completely broken.
Instead, Kei could only rely on daily login rewards to obtain Summoning Scrolls .
Roughly once a month…
He managed another ten consecutive summons .
Another ten Uchiha followers.
In less than two years…
A war orphan living in the forgotten corner of the Uchiha Compound had transformed that desolate neighborhood into a thriving community.
Even Fugaku had been forced to acknowledge Kei’s branch.
None of it would’ve been possible without the Gacha System…
Or the rewards earned through System Points.
That said…
Kei also owed a debt of gratitude to two Hokage.
The Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju…
And the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi.
Had Tobirama not established policies that marginalized the Uchiha…
And had Hiruzen not faithfully continued them…
Fugaku would’ve faced far less pressure.
Without that pressure…
He never would’ve been so eager to strengthen the clan.
And if he hadn’t desperately needed manpower…
He never would’ve accepted dozens of mysterious new “Uchiha” appearing out of nowhere.
Kei still remembered his very first ten consecutive summons .
Back then…
He had prepared himself for the worst.
If exposed, he’d either die…
Or flee Konoha.
After all, dozens of unfamiliar shinobi appearing overnight would normally trigger a full-scale investigation.
But he had no choice.
At the time…
He hadn’t even awakened the Sharingan.
He was merely an ordinary genin.
One who knew only the Three Basic Techniques of the Academy and a single C-rank ninjutsu.
A disposable foot soldier.
A war orphan.
For an orphan…
Survival was always the greatest challenge.
Human nature contained countless moments of kindness.
But no one should ever entrust their future to the goodwill of others.
Even in peaceful societies…
Orphans were often exploited.
How much worse would things be in the brutal shinobi world?
Most property within the Uchiha Clan belonged collectively to the clan itself.
Once Kei’s parents died…
He lost the right to remain in their family home.
Just like Naruto Uzumaki years later…
Kei was forced to leave.
Taking only a few keepsakes left behind by his parents, he moved into one of the poorest corners of the Uchiha Compound.
There he joined other orphaned children.
His age placed him in an awkward position.
Compared to the younger orphans…
He was the eldest brother.
Yet he was still far too young to support himself.
Responsibility fell onto his shoulders before he had the strength to bear it.
He had to care for more than a dozen younger war orphans…
While somehow feeding himself as well.
Growing boys had enormous appetites.
Keeping even one stomach full was difficult.
Keeping more than a dozen fed…
That was a challenge worthy of a shinobi.