Naruto: This Genius is Somewhat Ordinary-Chapter 394

The Sage of Six Paths, a presence that had lingered in the world for nearly a thousand years, finally departed for the afterlife.

Fujimoto Tōma glanced at the spot where the Sage had vanished. He sincerely hoped the old man would take the opportunity to straighten things out over there. The rules of this world were a mess. There were Shinigami, twisted gods worshipped in secret cults, and on top of that, even the King of Hell could be summoned through the Rinnegan’s reincarnation technique.

That alone proved how badly defined life and death had become.

Dead people shouldn’t be walking back so easily. Techniques like Edo Tensei never should have existed in the first place.

Reincarnation, at least, demanded a life in exchange for a life. That price made sense.

Still, Tōma had no interest in fixing cosmic bureaucracy. That responsibility could fall to the Sage. And if not him, then someone else would deal with it eventually.

For now, there were still things to do.

After casting Infinite Kotoamatsukami and forcibly conveying the concept of unification to every sentient being in the world, it was time to undo Infinite Tsukuyomi.

Tōma paused.

...Now that he thought about it, the Sage had never actually told him how to release it.

But that wasn’t a real problem.

He looked up at the crimson moon. In his memory, Naruto and Sasuke had performed some kind of joint hand seal. The details were fuzzy, but the principle wasn’t.

After a moment of deduction, Tōma nodded.

So the requirement was simple: chakra from all nine tailed beasts, combined with the power of the Rinnegan, forming a single seal.

He had the tailed beast chakra. He hadn’t released them yet.

As for the Rinnegan...

Creating one on the spot felt pointless. There was an easier solution.

His gaze drifted to the small creature on his shoulder.

"Gula?" The Moon Sprite tilted its head, confused by his stare.

"Hand," Tōma said.

The Moon Sprite obediently extended a tiny paw. Tōma took it gently.

Yin Release surged.

The vertical mark on the Moon Sprite’s forehead opened, revealing the crimson nine-tomoe Rinne-Sharingan within.

Tōma glanced at the small paw. Tiny, but sufficient. Hand seals were symbolic anyway. What mattered was possessing the power.

"Infinite Tsukuyomi—release."

Across the world, the God Trees responded. Their branches gently lowered the white cocoons, setting every suspended lifeform safely onto the ground.

No one woke up yet.

Their chakra—and now their life energy—had not been returned.

Tōma formed nine Truth-Seeking Orbs beneath him and sat calmly in the air, observing the battlefield below.

Time passed.

As dawn approached and the moon began to sink, people finally stirred awake.

They rose unsteadily, like survivors of a sickness that had nearly killed them.

Everyone understood what this meant.

Fujimoto Tōma had won.

Infinite Tsukuyomi had been broken.

And yet—there was no joy.

Faces were tense. Heavy.

Because before waking, something had been forced into their minds. Knowledge. Intent. A declaration.

The same figure they had entrusted all hope to had calmly told them he intended to unify the world.

It had to be a lie.

A side effect of Infinite Tsukuyomi.

Or worse—perhaps they were still trapped inside it.

But regardless of the reason, people unconsciously began distancing themselves from Konoha’s shinobi.

On Konoha’s side, clan heads like Hyūga Hiashi and the leaders of Ino–Shika–Chō exchanged glances.

This moment had finally arrived.

They stepped forward first, issuing orders as clan heads, leading their people toward Tōma without hesitation. Confused shinobi followed instinctively.

Independent, unaffiliated shinobi stared in disbelief.

But when they recalled Tōma’s strength during the Fourth Shinobi World War...

If it were him as Hokage, then maybe—

They followed.

Strangely enough, no Konoha shinobi felt fear. Some even felt excitement.

If they succeeded, they would be part of a history no one had ever written before.

Across the battlefield, the other four great villages and the samurai of the Land of Iron watched in shock.

This hadn’t been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Even Tsunade and Jiraiya had been kept in the dark.

At first, they wanted to believe it was another illusion meant to sow discord—but the movement of Konoha’s forces erased that hope.

Tsunade, at least, recovered faster. She knew Tōma better than most.

He chased strength. He enjoyed challenges. And unifying the world?

...That probably just sounded interesting to him.

Jiraiya couldn’t accept it.

The war was supposed to be the prophesied disaster. Infinite Tsukuyomi, Six Paths enemies—world-ending threats.

Those were gone.

So why did it feel like a new war was beginning?

And worse—this one was being started by his own student.

"This... can’t be real," Jiraiya muttered.

Tsunade pulled him away before he could do something reckless.

Even if she hated it, there was no retreat now. Tōma had already declared war to the entire world.

Soon, the battlefield split cleanly in two.

Konoha on one side.

Everyone else on the other.

The Fourth Raikage stared at Tōma, seated calmly atop nine Truth-Seeking Orbs, casually playing with a small black creature in his arms.

He roared, voice booming across the field.

"Sixth Hokage! What is the meaning of this?! Are those memories real?!"

Every gaze turned upward.

Tōma had been watching their reactions all along.

As expected—shock everywhere. Even among Konoha.

Snapping his fingers, he activated the God Trees.

Across the world, branches shifted, projecting live images of this battlefield everywhere.

A global broadcast.

Tōma’s voice echoed into every ear.

"Yes. I’m the one who implanted that knowledge into your minds," he said calmly.

"And yes—as Konoha’s Sixth Hokage, I formally declare war on the world. The path toward unification has begun."

Despair spread instantly.

The savior had become the greatest threat.

"And don’t misunderstand," Tōma continued.

"From today onward, you may resist. You may oppose me alone, or unite against Konoha as you did before."

A pause.

"I could force obedience. I could rewrite your thoughts and make you kneel. I chose not to."

"Because I don’t want puppets."

Then someone, somewhere, screamed curses at him.

A moment later—

Boom.

Blood splattered the ground.

Tōma smiled, gaze piercing through the projections.

"Insulting me right now isn’t very smart."

He pointed skyward.

Above every land, massive meteors loomed—each capable of erasing a city.

"Relax. They won’t fall," he said lightly. "This is just a demonstration."

The meteors vanished.

Silence followed.

This was a man threatening an entire world alone.

And everyone understood—

This wasn’t empty bravado.