"What exactly happened?"

Inside the Uchiha compound, Uchiha Shin looked at his son with a grave expression, while Saya's father looked equally bewildered.

Not long ago, a fierce burst of firelight had flared up in the forest behind the clan grounds. That was clearly no ordinary occurrence.

So Uchiha Shin had immediately ordered his son to send people to investigate. They knew Uchiha Fugaku had gone that way, which made caution all the more necessary.

Ever since they had subdued the First Elder—and the old man, moved by a final trace of mercy, had chosen not to wipe them out completely—Shin had received something far beyond what he had expected in return.

The First Elder had once been a hardliner, yes, but he was no fool.

Once he understood the scale of the divide between Konoha and the Uchiha, and once he learned that the Senju head of ANBU was also at odds with the Third Hokage, he made his choice.

He would help Uchiha Shin.

He would help him push these changes through and return the Uchiha to the center of Konoha's political stage.

Through a network of secret contacts, more and more members of the Police Force had gradually come under Saya's father's control, and some of the men once fiercely loyal to the First Elder had quietly begun leaning toward Shin instead.

But all of that took time.

The First Elder was, officially speaking, a dead man. He could not show himself again. At most, he could pass subtle instructions to former subordinates through hidden channels.

Even so, the number of people Saya's father could command had steadily increased, and Shin's influence inside the clan had grown with it. The pressure they could exert on Fugaku had become heavier by the day.

So the moment they realized Fugaku might be in danger, they had sent people at once.

And yet more than ten minutes had passed, and there had been no reply at all.

That alone was enough to make both men frown.

Worse still, the one under attack appeared to be Uchiha Fugaku himself—the clan head, and the man whose differences with them had long since become an open secret.

"How many men did you send?" Uchiha Shin stopped pacing and turned sharply toward his son. "Why is there still no response?"

"I sent four patrol squads, Father," Saya's father answered, brow furrowed deeply. "That's not a small number. They're family patrol teams."

The clan patrol units existed specifically to safeguard the security of the Uchiha compound. Their members were all at least reasonably capable. Otherwise, they would have been worthless.

And yet even those men had not managed to send back so much as a signal flare.

That was what made the whole matter so unsettling.

What exactly was happening out there?

And what state was Fugaku in now?

Fugaku could not be allowed to die.

Not now, of all times.

After several turns of thought, Uchiha Shin finally said through clenched teeth, "Go yourself. Gather everyone who's assembled and not yet deployed. Take them all and move out immediately."

"Yes, Father."

Saya's father nodded, then hesitated for a moment.

"Should we notify ANBU as well? After all, they…"

Shin let out a long, tired sigh before nodding.

"Inform them. See whether they can send support quickly."

He truly felt helpless.

After the previous battle with Uchiha Tatsumi—and after seeing Hatake Kakashi's performance with his own eyes—his son had clearly begun to lose confidence.

That was no good at all.

And yet there was little Shin could do about it.

On top of that, this incident might well be connected to the rumors that Orochimaru had set his sights on the Uchiha. If so, then involving ANBU was the sensible choice.

No matter how much Shin disliked the idea of ANBU continuing to insert itself into his clan's affairs, he no longer had the luxury of refusing.

Looking at the slight relief that appeared in his son's eyes, Shin only felt more weary. In the end, he simply turned away and went back inside to wait for the outcome.

"Go notify ANBU. The rest of you come with me."

Saya's father immediately relayed the order to the shinobi around him, then signaled the main body and leapt toward the forest behind the compound.

He was not stupid. He could tell that his father was deeply disappointed with the way he was handling this.

And truthfully, he did not want it to be this way either.

But in some sense, his current behavior had begun to resemble dependence on ANBU—perhaps even outright reliance on them.

Still, that earlier battle had shaken him badly.

He had seen just how strong ANBU truly was. Worse, he had seen his own shortcomings laid bare.

That knowledge left him deeply frustrated.

He wanted to change, but he did not know how.

The strength of ANBU had carved itself too deeply into his mind.

At this point, the only thing he could hope was that his daughter would not end up the same way.

Thankfully, it seemed she had caught the attention of that ANBU Minister.

And under that man was Kakashi—the outsider who had pushed the Sharingan to its limits. Perhaps someone like him could truly guide her properly.

"I just don't know what exactly Saya does in ANBU…"

Everything involving her current work was kept secret, even from him. He knew only fragments.

That was only natural.

The secretariat was a new department created by Hikaru himself. Outsiders had no idea how much authority it held. Most did not even know it existed.

So Saya's father had no way of understanding the true extent of his daughter's position.

"Hm?"

Suddenly, he frowned and threw out a tactical hand signal.

All the Uchiha shinobi behind him stopped at once, spreading out and watching the surroundings carefully.

Saya's father moved ahead, parted the grass, and found a fallen Uchiha clansman hidden there.

His face turned grim.

The others saw it too.

And as they continued searching, more and more unconscious Uchiha were discovered in the brush.

The pressure in their hearts only deepened.

Silently knocking them out was bad enough.

Silently knocking all of them out, without a single alarm being raised, was far worse.

"What in the world happened here?"

Saya's father gritted his teeth, rose, and looked ahead. After only a brief hesitation, he gave the order.

"Everyone, forward. We're going to rescue the Clan Head."

When facing Uchiha Fugaku, Hikaru remained thoroughly cautious.

But it was not caution born of fear. His eyes had already seen through Fugaku's condition completely.

The so-called complete insight had originally seemed somewhat vague even to Hikaru himself. He had not known just how far it could go.

Now he knew.

Its value was outrageous.

Beyond the basic piercing vision he had already confirmed, and beyond his ability to identify the chakra nature flowing through a target, he could see far, far more than that.

He could see the exact state of a person's body.

He could see what was happening inside a genjutsu.

Both were abilities difficult to imagine—and yet he now possessed them.

Put differently, genjutsu itself was likely no longer a real threat to him.

If he ever fell into an illusion, he could immediately perceive the difference between the false world and reality and respond at once.

It was much like how he could read the chakra nature of an incoming technique and immediately choose the most effective counter.

Complete insight truly deserved its name.

And right now, Uchiha Fugaku looked far from healthy in Hikaru's eyes.

His chakra reserves were still abundant, yes—but compared to Hikaru's own, they were nothing extraordinary.

More importantly, the strange black power within his eyes had already begun to weaken.

Even more interesting was what Hikaru saw deeper still inside those eyes.

There was another force there.

White.

And it was fading, very, very slowly.

If Hikaru's guess was right, then that white substance was likely what people called dōjutsu power—the true strength of the Mangekyō itself.

"Let's hope it doesn't burn out completely. I'd rather not plant a dead eye."

That thought crossed his mind as he shot forward like lightning.

Even now, he deliberately refrained from using the Flying Thunder God Technique.

He had used it earlier when he appeared beside Orochimaru, yes—but at that moment Fugaku's attention had been fixed entirely on Orochimaru. He would never have noticed.

Now, however, Fugaku's focus was all on Hikaru.

Using Flying Thunder God too openly here would be asking for trouble.

His blade swept out.

Fugaku reacted at once. Even in his current state, his perception remained sharp.

But Hikaru had no intention of giving him room to breathe.

He immediately pressed closer, the sword in his hand tracing an elegant, deceptive arc.

At the same time, his other hand slipped behind his back, where a faint ripple of chakra stirred.

Fugaku's Mangekyō rotated slowly. It not only read the line of Hikaru's attack, it also noticed that hidden hand.

He had no idea what the masked outsider intended, but he immediately shifted one hand into a sealing posture, preparing to respond.

"So you took the bait."

Hikaru saw the change in Fugaku's chakra flow at once.

That was enough. His bluff had worked.

He had always known his hand movement would be seen through by the Sharingan. But since Fugaku could see it so clearly, why not let him see exactly what Hikaru wanted him to?

"Not right!"

Fugaku realized it a heartbeat too late. Hikaru's chakra had stirred, yes, but there had been no sign whatsoever of it actually being released.

Which meant the masked outsider had simply tricked him.

But there was no time left to think.

Hikaru's blade skimmed past Fugaku's face, then his speed suddenly surged again. In the next instant, he drove a fist straight at Fugaku.

Already worn down, with combat instincts dulled from long neglect and his attention momentarily misled, Fugaku had no time to mount a proper defense.

He could only cross both arms and block.

Boom.

The impact threw him backward.

Even so, his physical coordination remained excellent. Though sent flying, he twisted in the air, rotated, and landed firmly on his feet.

The moment he touched down, his hands had already crossed into position. Chakra surged violently through him—his seal sequence had been completed after all.

"Fire Release: Great Fire Dragon Technique!"

A massive dragon of flame roared toward Hikaru, its enormous body and scorching heat enough to suffocate anyone in its path.

At the same time, Fugaku lowered his stance and continued forming hand seals behind the cover of the giant fire dragon.

Under the blaze, almost no one could have seen what he was doing.

But to Hikaru, that fire dragon was almost transparent.

He could see straight through it.

More than that, he could see its internal chakra structure in detail—where the power flowed, where it weakened, and where the single most fragile point lay.

Azure light flickered behind the mask.

Hikaru stepped into the attack head-on.

No, his dynamic vision was not equal to the monsters of the Uchiha. But his speed—and more importantly, the speed of his attacks—was enough to compensate.

His blade slashed precisely into the weakest point in the fire dragon's structure.

For a brief moment, the enormous inferno seemed to rush straight through him—

and then, impossibly, it split in two.

The remaining flames unraveled and dispersed into the wind.

Its chakra structure had been completely destroyed by Hikaru's strike.

That said, Hikaru's own sword had partially melted under the heat.

He did not care.

He cared even less that Uchiha Fugaku had already used the opening to rush straight in.

With a slight turn of his body, Hikaru evaded the attack aimed at him.

At the same moment, a kunai appeared in his hand and stabbed into the earth, carrying a layer of blue chakra with it.

"Agh!"

A scream rang out immediately, and blood welled up from the ground at the point where the kunai had been driven in.

Hikaru watched it without the slightest surprise.

Fugaku knew nothing of his intelligence on him, and even less of the true nature of his "divine Eye."

Otherwise, he would never have chosen to hide underground.

Because Hikaru could see through everything.

"Damn it, what happened over there?"

As he felt the waves of chakra surging ahead, Saya's father gritted his teeth and sped up.

Once he found the Uchiha shinobi who had been knocked unconscious, he already understood how serious the matter was.

But now it seemed even worse.

As they advanced, the oppressive chakra fluctuations ahead suddenly vanished all at once.

That alone filled them with dread.

It likely meant the battle was already over—and that the outcome was ugly.

There was no choice now but to move faster.

With Saya's father leading them, the group rushed toward the lake.

Truthfully, he did not want to go.

He understood his father's intentions very well.

If Uchiha Fugaku were to die here, then in some ways that could even be advantageous.

But the clan's internal situation was already unstable enough. If Fugaku truly died now, the aftermath would only become harder to control.

So whether they liked it or not, they had to rescue him.

Even though ANBU had still not arrived, they had no alternative.

"Why couldn't you hold out a little longer, Clan Head?"

The thought flashed angrily through Saya's father's mind.

But anger solved nothing.

He could only keep moving.

As he ran, chakra surged within him, and his eyes turned red, three tomoe spinning.

He took a deep breath and forced down his fear.

Perhaps his combat ability still lagged behind others—but with enough people, they should at least be able to hold the line.

"I'll just have to do it."

He leapt from the treeline—

and froze.

There was no enemy.

No battle.

Only a single body lying ahead in a pool of blood. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

When Saya's father saw that figure from a distance, he first felt relief—

then his heart sank.

The clothing belonged unmistakably to Uchiha Fugaku.

His clan head lay there, collapsed and surrounded by blood.

Did that mean they were too late?

Pushing down his dread, Saya's father still swept the area carefully.

Once he confirmed no one was hiding nearby, he rushed forward with the others.

Kneeling beside Fugaku, he carefully examined his body with the Sharingan.

He had already determined one thing:

Fugaku was alive.

But battlefield experience had taught him that an injured ally could be the most dangerous thing on the field.

Too many shinobi had died because they ran to a wounded comrade without checking for traps.

It was a common tactic—leave the target barely alive, rig the body or the surrounding area with explosive tags, poison, or hidden mechanisms, and then wait for the rescuers to rush in.

Saya's father himself had used variations of that ploy to escape pursuit in the past.

So he checked carefully first.

Nothing.

No trap.

Either the attacker had not had time to prepare one, or they lacked that sort of battlefield experience.

"Then maybe..."

He began treating Fugaku at once.

His Sharingan had already shown him that the Clan Head remained alive.

The wound in the abdomen was serious, but not fatal.

Then he rolled Fugaku over properly—

and his entire body stiffened.

The other Uchiha around him reacted the same way.

Rage flared in them all.

One of Fugaku's eye sockets was empty.

Blood still seeped from it in an unsteady stream.

His eye had been taken.

For the Uchiha, nothing mattered more than their bloodline and the power of the Sharingan.

There had almost never been a case of their eyes being taken—apart from Uchiha Obito willingly giving one to Kakashi.

And now someone had all but stolen a Sharingan right in front of them.

This was more than humiliation.

It was a direct provocation.

Fugaku might have stood opposed to them politically, but he was still their Clan Head.

This was an insult to the entire clan.

And it showed utter contempt for the Uchiha.

Saya's father took a slow breath and forced himself calm.

"Treat the Clan Head immediately. We cannot let anything happen to him."

His voice was sharp now, efficient, controlled. In that moment, he looked every bit the ANBU minister he had become.

"Bandage him here first. Send part of the group back to call clan members skilled in medical ninjutsu."

"Send another group to notify ANBU. If possible, contact the Minister directly. If that fails, make sure ANBU understands how serious this is."

He clenched his fists and finished in a hard, bitter tone.

"And the rest of you—move out. We are going to hunt down the bastards responsible."

"Yes!"

"Get moving. Return on your own."

In a secluded forest elsewhere in Konoha, Hikaru and Orochimaru appeared soundlessly.

Hikaru still wore the mask. His voice was calm, but inwardly he was in an excellent mood.

Uchiha Fugaku had been defeated.

Which meant one thing above all else:

The Mangekyō Sharingan was now in his hands.

Strictly speaking, Hikaru had no personal grudge against Fugaku.

In some respects, the two might even have walked similar roads.

But Hikaru had never chosen him.

Because Hikaru understood exactly what kind of man Fugaku was.

Hesitant to the core.

Crippled by indecision.

Worse than that, Hikaru saw him as a man with a deeply unhealthy mind, someone capable of crouching in the shadows for years without ever truly acting.

Before confirming the Mangekyō, Hikaru had only thought of Fugaku as unstable in a passive, self-consuming way.

A man who could watch his clan march to slaughter, understand the logic behind it, and still choose his son over all the rest of them—

that was not someone Hikaru could ever trust.

Unless he had no better option.

Unless he himself were Uchiha and could control the man directly.

Otherwise, cooperation with someone like Fugaku was unimaginable.

And besides, once Uchiha Shin had chosen to stand with Hikaru, Fugaku had already become, in a sense, his enemy.

Hikaru had no reason to hold back.

Still, he had not taken things all the way.

He had only taken one eye.

He had not killed the man.

Even that was already excessive enough—but better this than removing Fugaku from the board entirely.

Leaving him alive for Shin to manage was infinitely more useful than killing him outright.

Orochimaru licked his lips lightly.

His gaze lingered on Hikaru's mask. For some reason, the image felt faintly familiar to him.

Still, he kept himself under control.

After witnessing how Hikaru had dealt with Fugaku, he knew very well that he had no chance against him.

Especially because Hikaru had not even used Wood Release or the Flying Thunder God Technique.

He had defeated an Uchiha—an opponent born to counter taijutsu—using nothing but those strange unnamed eyes and physical combat.

If Hikaru chose to turn that full force on him, Orochimaru doubted that any number of survival methods would keep him alive.

"I understand," Orochimaru said at last, licking his lips and forcing down all other thoughts. "I assume the Minister will now go to see my teacher?"

"Yes. Otherwise why do you think I handed Uchiha Itachi over to you?"

Hikaru's voice remained flat.

"If you're going to leave, then leave loudly. After all, you are Orochimaru of the Three Legendary Sannin."

Throughout the entire battle, Itachi had stayed at the edge of the fight.

The boy was clever. He never once tried to interfere.

Even when his father was struck down, his first instinct had been to turn and run.

Hikaru did not think that was cowardice.

If anything, it was the smartest thing he could have done.

A child that age stepping into that battle would only have died.

Far better to seek help from the shinobi who were likely already on their way.

That gave both him and his father their best chance of survival.

Unfortunately for Itachi, the one standing in his path had been Hikaru.

For a long time now, Hikaru had kept a close eye on the so-called "God of Uchiha Itachi."

The instant the child turned to leave, Hikaru had appeared, knocked him unconscious, and carried him off.

Now he had placed Itachi in Orochimaru's hands.

Because like it or not, Itachi was Fugaku's son.

And he had witnessed Orochimaru's attack.

If the boy emerged entirely untouched from all this, it would only make the whole matter more suspicious.

So letting him "play a role" in the performance would likely produce a much better result.

Orochimaru glanced at Hikaru, then at the unconscious Itachi slung at his side.

A smile slowly curved across his face.

"Minister... are you planning to rescue the boy personally?"

His tone was light, but probing.

"My teacher comes to stop me. I flee with the child. In the end, after escaping the worst of it, I am cornered by the Minister of ANBU and forced to abandon him. Is that the story?"

"If that is what you want."

Hikaru looked at him indifferently.

"I can play along. It would reduce the Uchiha's hatred toward you somewhat."

"Would it?"

Orochimaru's smile widened.

"That was no ordinary Sharingan you took, Minister."

"It was a Mangekyō."

The moment those words left his mouth, Hikaru's presence slammed down on him.

The overwhelming pressure was like standing over an abyss.

Under that vast force, the grass and trees around them began to sway unnaturally.

Even then, Orochimaru kept smiling.

Though sweat had begun rolling down his face, his expression did not change.

His meaning was plain.

He wanted certainty.

A promise.

A trade.

He was willing to take all the blame.

All the responsibility.

He would not ask for that Mangekyō.

He would not ask for anything else.

But if he was to take the fall for Hikaru—if he was even to hand Hikaru an additional political victory on top of it—then Hikaru needed to fulfill his side of the bargain completely.

If not, then judging by Orochimaru's current attitude, he really might choose to break the table and drag everything down with him.

After a long silence, Hikaru slowly withdrew his killing intent.

He looked at Orochimaru in silence, then gave a slight nod.

"As expected of one of the Sannin. That sort of nerve is admirable."

His voice turned colder.

"I will not go back on what I promised you. After all, I still need you to research some things for me."

"Oh?"

Orochimaru's curiosity sharpened at once.

He wanted to know exactly how valuable he still was in Hikaru's eyes.

"And what, exactly, does the Minister want researched?"

"Bloodlines. Ninjutsu. And more."

Hikaru answered without hiding anything. There was no reason to now.

"You provide imagination and creativity. I provide direction—and the necessary materials."

He paused slightly.

"What do you think of that arrangement?"

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