Chapter 59: Does Madara Have a Child? (Three-in-One...)
The night was as dark as ink, enveloping Konoha Village. At this time, most villagers were already asleep, and the village was quiet and still.
The Hokage's office was dimly lit, filled with the smell of smoke mixed with the scent of old paper and ink.
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, had a weathered face etched with the lines of time, his expression somber and somber in the flickering light of his pipe.
He silently watched the figure in front of him, its back to the moonlight.
The man stood tall and straight like a pine tree, exuding an aura of profound and lofty solitude simply by standing there. He wore an outfit reminiscent of the Warring States period, with dark fabric subtly patterned like bamboo leaves, which clashed in stark contrast to the modern office atmosphere of the room.
His eyes were calm and still, as if nothing in the world could stir a ripple within them.
The silence continues.
The only sound in the room was the faint crackling of burning tobacco.
After a long pause, Hiruzen Sarutobi finally spoke: "What... is your view on Konoha?"
Upon hearing this, Yan Sheng's lips twitched slightly upwards, not with a smile, but with a contemptuous look down.
Then, he turned his head, his gaze passing through the window to the sleeping village outside, his voice flat and even:
"Konoha, to you, may be your home, your faith, or a treasure worth protecting with your life."
He paused slightly, his tone unchanged, and continued, "But in my eyes, it's insignificant."
Hiruzen Sarutobi's fingers, which were holding his pipe, tightened almost imperceptibly, and his gaze deepened.
Yan Sheng didn't notice his reaction, or rather, he didn't care. He presented a sharp analogy in a statement of fact:
"Just like a wealthy tycoon wouldn't covet the rusty coin clutched tightly by a beggar on the street."
After speaking, he withdrew his gaze and looked back at Hiruzen Sarutobi. His unfathomable eyes were devoid of any emotion, only a kind of indifference that came from the essence of his being.
"Therefore, Hokage, you can rest assured. I have no interest in your Konoha."
After he finished speaking, the office fell silent again.
Hiruzen Sarutobi took a deep drag on his cigarette, the smoke blurring the expression on his face.
***
The sunlight, like scorching golden sand, poured into the room unrestrainedly through the clear glass window, leaving bright, dazzling spots of light on the floor.
On the bed.
Sasuke Uchiha's eyelids twitched a few times, reluctantly resisting the excessively bright light. The heavy drowsiness receded like a tide, and consciousness slowly returned.
He suddenly opened his eyes.
What came into view was a completely unfamiliar ceiling. Pure white background, simple lines, without any familiar decorations that belonged to his own room.
After a moment of confusion, a tsunami of fragmented memories surged forth—the night, the moonlight, the cold streets, the thick, unyielding stench of blood, and... that figure!
"Ugh!" Sasuke let out a short gasp and sat bolt upright in bed. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, almost shattering his ribs.
He quickly turned his head and looked around in bewilderment.
An unfamiliar bed, unfamiliar furniture, an unfamiliar layout... everything silently proclaims that this is not his home, not the Uchiha clan's territory, nor any place he knows.
"Last night..." he muttered to himself, his face deathly pale, "It was a dream... Yes, it must have been a nightmare!"
In fact, the moment Sasuke opened his eyes and saw the unfamiliar ceiling, a cold answer had already been given in a corner of his heart.
But Sasuke refused to accept it, desperately trying to use the fragile excuse of "dream" to cover up the cruel reality that would devour him.
He couldn't believe it, and he didn't want to believe it!
Sasuke yanked off the thin blanket covering him and staggered off the bed. His legs were still a little weak when they hit the ground, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was rush out, rush back to that familiar place, and make sure everything was alright, to break free from that damned nightmare.
However, when he suddenly opened the bedroom door, his anticipated "escape" was interrupted by an unexpected smell.
It's... the aroma of food.
Warm and mellow, with the unique soft and sweet aroma of cooked grains, it gently wafts into your nostrils. Following closely behind is the sound of bubbling, like soup boiling merrily in a pot.
The sounds and smells so full of life contrasted sharply with the hellish images in his mind.
Sasuke froze on the spot, then turned his head to look at the other side of the room, following the sound.
This is an open kitchen.
A tall man with a long black ponytail stood with his back to him in front of the stove. He wore a plain apron around his waist and held a long-handled spoon in his hand, stirring slowly in a steaming clay pot.
That back view... feels strangely familiar.
Sasuke's heart suddenly started beating faster, and a chill crept up his spine. He dared not think about it, or rather, a terrible conjecture had uncontrollably surfaced, but he desperately suppressed it, trying to attribute it to his own hallucination.
The man in the kitchen had already noticed Sasuke's awakening. At that moment, he had just finished stirring, gently placed the spoon on a porcelain plate beside him, and then turned around unhurriedly, his gaze calmly fixed on Sasuke, who stood frozen in the bedroom doorway.
The sunlight outlined his clear profile the moment he turned around, and then, his full face was revealed.
That face—cold, perfect, like meticulously carved white jade, carrying an inhuman, extreme indifference.
"It's...you!"
Sasuke's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints, and his blood seemed to freeze instantly.
Yan Sheng looked at the boy, who was tense all over and looked like a frightened little animal, with no expression on his face.
He had no intention of repeating any further explanation; it was pointless and a waste of time, and the boy wouldn't believe him anyway.
Therefore, he planned to use the most direct and irrefutable method to let the boy know that he did not kill the person—that is, to let him "witness" it with his own eyes.
Then, under Sasuke's horrified gaze, a bewitching red light flashed in Yan Sheng's deep eyes.
It was just a fleeting glance.
Before Sasuke could even see the other person's movements, he felt an irresistible, icy torrent of energy forcefully enter his mind.
"Ugh—!" He let out a painful groan as the scene before him distorted and blurred, eventually being replaced by countless chaotic yet clear images.
From the outside, it appeared as if only one second had passed.
But for Sasuke, it was as if he had been subjected to a long and cruel torture:
He relived that bloody night from a man's perspective—from the moment he walked step by step toward the gates of the Uchiha clan's territory to the moment he stepped into that area shrouded in death.
Every detail, every scene, and the confrontation with his brother... was like a sharp knife, slowly torturing his young heart.
The illusion has ended.
Sasuke snapped back to reality, his body trembling violently from the intense mental shock. He stared blankly ahead, his eyes vacant, as if his soul had been ripped away.
Then, tears—hot tears, tears filled with pain, despair, and the collapse of faith—burst forth and slid down his pale cheeks.
"Was it...brother...who did it?" His voice was hoarse and incoherent, each word seeming to be squeezed out from a shattered heart. "Why...brother...why did you do this?! Why, ahhhhh!"
I can't understand it! I can't accept it!
How could his brother, whom he admired, relied on, and regarded as his role model and pride, do such a cruel and inhumane thing?!
A tremendous sense of absurdity and betrayal, mixed with the grief and fear of his clan's annihilation, formed a destructive torrent that surged wildly through Sasuke's body.
Sasuke felt a violent spasm in his stomach, followed by a strong feeling of nausea that rushed to his throat.
"Ugh—cough cough! Ugh..." He couldn't help but bend over and gag violently.
He hasn't eaten a single grain of rice since school ended yesterday afternoon; his stomach is empty, and he can't vomit even if he wants to.
The coughing was heart-wrenching. Sasuke's thin body was curled up in a ball, his face covered in tears and snot, looking utterly disheveled. He was a far cry from his usual snow-white dumpling and young master of a noble family.
Yan Sheng remained calm throughout, like an unchanging ancient reef, coldly watching the young boy's entire breakdown.
He didn't offer any words of comfort, nor did he show any impatience; he simply waited until Sasuke's retching gradually subsided, leaving only suppressed, intermittent sobs.
At this moment, Yan Shengcai spoke again, his voice still steady and devoid of any emotion.
"Go wash up," he said, his gaze sweeping over Sasuke's tear-streaked face. "Dinner's ready."
Yan Sheng's words, like an irresistible command, pierced through Sasuke's chaotic cries.
The boy dazedly raised his head, his eyes blurry with tears, and met the man's calm, unwavering eyes. There was no pity, no blame, no other emotion in them, only a pure tranquility.
This strange calm was like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, temporarily extinguishing the intense emotions burning fiercely within Sasuke, emotions that seemed to threaten to consume him as well.
The boy slowly stopped his agonizing retching and, like a puppet whose strings had been removed, followed the direction indicated by Yan Sheng's gaze, staggering unsteadily toward the nearby restroom.
"Click".
The door closed gently, cutting off any view from the outside world.
In the restroom.
Sasuke leaned against the cold, tiled wall, taking a few deep breaths to calm his heart, which was pounding in his chest. Then he looked up at the mirror.
The boy in the mirror was pale, with red and swollen eyes, disheveled hair, and traces of retching at the corner of his mouth.
How ugly, how rude.
As if scalded, Sasuke looked away, lowered his head, walked to the sink, turned on the tap, and icy water gushed out. He stretched out his trembling hands, scooped up a handful of cold water, and splashed it on his face.
The icy chill made him shiver involuntarily, but it also brought a distorted sense of clarity.
One handful after another... He kept rinsing his face with cold water, as if trying to wash away the bloody images in his mind and the unforgettable pain.
His movements gradually slowed down. Finally, Sasuke braced his hands on the edge of the sink, lowered his head, and let the water droplets slide down his hair and cheeks, dripping onto the porcelain white sink wall.
Compared to the Sasuke in the main world (original work), who was tortured by his own brother with Tsukuyomi after the night of the massacre of his clan, repeatedly experiencing that nightmare, suffering extreme physical and mental torment, and being forced to accept all the cruel facts in a very short time, thus becoming extreme and transforming all his emotions into a desire for power and an obsession with revenge, he in this parallel world is undoubtedly "lucky".
Yan Sheng's appearance prevented him from having a second conflict with Itachi Uchiha.
Having not experienced that mental torture, nor had his dignity and hope crushed by the person he admired most... therefore, Sasuke gained a brief respite from the overwhelming grief and anger, because there was no further extreme stimulation.
He has gradually calmed down.
However, to describe it as calm would be more accurate to say numb.
When extreme pain exceeds the threshold that the mind can bear, the brain activates a protective mechanism, temporarily freezing and sealing away those sharp emotions.
Sasuke felt as if there was a thick, transparent membrane separating his body and mind, making everything outside, including his own pain, seem blurry and distant.
Amidst this numbness, a faint glimmer of hope quietly emerged.
What if... there's a misunderstanding?
Sasuke stared blankly at his wet face in the mirror.
What if the memories that man gave me... were fake? Can't the Sharingan create genjutsu? After all, how could my brother... do such a thing?
Sasuke's unwavering trust and adoration for his brother became his only lifeline at this moment.
He clung tightly to this faint hope, trying to fill the enormous, crumbling void within him. He could not, and was unwilling to, believe the cruel "truth."
To put it bluntly, Sasuke is like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, escaping from an unbearable reality.
......
When Sasuke emerged from the restroom, the tear stains were no longer visible on his face, though his eyes were still red. His expression was blank, a forced attempt to appear calm.
The aroma of food in the air became even stronger.
Yan Sheng had already placed the food on the dining table in the living room: two bowls of perfectly cooked white porridge and several plates of refreshing side dishes. Although they looked simple, they were enough to whet one's appetite.
He had already taken off his apron and was sitting upright on one side of the dining table.
Sasuke silently walked to the table opposite Yan Sheng and sat down in front of the food that had been laid out.
The freshly cooked congee was still very hot, and the rising steam blurred the view between the two of them.
The meal was eaten quietly, with only the faint clinking of bowls and chopsticks and the sound of chewing.
Sasuke ate without tasting it, mechanically putting the food into his mouth and swallowing it. His gaze repeatedly and cautiously rose to steal glances at the man opposite him.
Yan Sheng's dining posture was extremely elegant, and every movement exuded a noble and dignified air that was ingrained in his bones, as if he were not in an ordinary apartment, but in a banquet hall.
This invisible aura created a powerful field, making Sasuke feel an inexplicable pressure.
He wanted to ask, he had so many questions. He wanted to ask who the man was, what was going on with the man's brother... but the words stuck in his throat.
On one hand, the Uchiha clan's good upbringing was ingrained in him: "Do not speak while eating or sleeping" was basic etiquette. Talking at the dinner table was considered impolite.
On the other hand, faced with Yan Sheng's impeccable demeanor, the boy's subtle sense of self-esteem and competitive spirit of not wanting to be outdone resurfaced.
He didn't want to lose his composure in front of the other person, and he didn't want to act like an impatient, unruly child.
So, throughout the entire meal, Sasuke kept his mouth shut and didn't say a single word.
After the meal, Yan Sheng cleaned up.
Although he was born into a prominent family and had servants in both his past and present lives, in his past life, for a considerable period after following Muzan Kibutsuji, he actually managed everything himself.
So in daily life, he's not completely sheltered; he has basic life skills. He handles this little thing without hesitation.
Sasuke watched Yan Sheng's busy figure with a sense of frustration, his anxiety and questions growing ever more intense like vines.
Sasuke couldn't hold back any longer and broke the silence when Yan Sheng put the last clean plate back in the cupboard and turned to wipe the water droplets off his hands with a clean cloth.
"I'm sorry." His voice was still a little hoarse from crying. "I misunderstood you yesterday." He paused, as if organizing his thoughts, then looked up, his gaze cautious and inquisitive.
"You...you're also from the Uchiha clan, aren't you? But I've never seen you before. Are you...from outside the village?"
Yan Sheng continued wiping his fingers without stopping, his gaze calmly sweeping over Sasuke's expectant and puzzled face.
“Hmm,” he replied with a simple syllable.
He said the same thing again: he couldn't be bothered to explain.
For Yan Sheng, the complexity of the truth about his identity was irrelevant; as long as the explanation was acceptable to the boy and contained no fundamental errors, that was enough.
Upon receiving confirmation, the faint flame of hope in Sasuke's heart flickered again. He lowered his head, his hands gripping his trouser legs tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, his voice trembling with suppressed sobs:
"I...I don't think my brother could possibly...Do you know the truth behind this? What exactly happened?" After saying the last word, he raised his head, his red eyes filled with pleading.
Yan Sheng looked at him, his eyes showing no emotion.
"What can you do even if I tell you?" he said calmly. "There's nothing you can do right now."
These words completely ignited Sasuke's suppressed emotions.
He jumped to his feet and shouted excitedly, "Yes! I'm too weak now! But I will grow up—one day, I will... I will..."
What is it that "must" be killed? To avenge the clan? To avenge the parents? The words stuck in his throat, and a huge sense of contradiction and sorrow surged up again.
Sasuke didn't want to admit that his brother was the murderer, but upon closer reflection, if his brother wasn't the murderer, why would he run away? Therefore, Sasuke also knew that his wishful thinking was unreal.
As she spoke, the tears she had been holding back burst forth once more, large, hot tears falling uncontrollably onto the floor like beads from a broken string, splashing up tiny droplets.
Just as Sasuke was crying uncontrollably, Yan Sheng walked over.
The man's tall figure cast a shadow before him. Then, to Sasuke's astonishment, Yan Sheng bent down and, with his long, clean fingers and distinct knuckles, wiped away the tears from Sasuke's face with a gesture that was far from gentle.
This sudden action, so contrary to his cold demeanor, completely stunned Sasuke. He even forgot to cry, simply staring blankly at the face so close to his.
Although he hadn't spent much time with the man, Sasuke believed he had already figured out his personality. This almost "gentle" treatment was completely beyond his expectations.
Then, Yan Sheng's deep, magnetic voice rang out:
"Do you resent it?"
Are you angry?
Do you feel the world is unfair?
"Do you want to destroy it?"
A series of questions, each heavier and more extreme than the last, crashed into Sasuke's chaotic heart, creating violent ripples.
Sasuke looked back at Yan Sheng with a blank expression.
Even though his heart is filled with grief and hatred, he is far from being so extreme as to want to destroy the world.
All he wanted was to find the truth and take revenge on the culprit who destroyed everything he had.
The future Sasuke Uchiha, who believed that the world was full of deception and suffering and should be completely rebuilt, was born from the accumulation of countless tragedies and darkness after experiencing the coldness of the world, defection, learning the truth about Itachi, and witnessing the ruthlessness of war.
Tobirama Senju once made a somewhat extreme but insightful assessment of the Uchiha clan: "The Uchiha are a demonic clan."
This "demonic" quality can be understood as emotional extremism and obsession. The Uchiha's love and hate are too intense; once they fall into a certain extreme, their actions and destructive power are enough to shake the world.
If God laughs when an ordinary person uses their brain, then God cries for help when an Uchiha has a thought.
After a long pause, Sasuke finally recovered from the series of shocking questions. He hesitated, his voice still trembling with tears, before replying, "Destroying the world... I... I didn't think about that. I just want... revenge. I want to know the truth, I at least need to know who my real enemy is."
It seems that Sasuke Uchiha's future world destruction is not solely due to the massacre of his clan.
Yan Sheng gathered his scattered thoughts. At that moment, he also wiped away the last trace of tears from Sasuke's face. He straightened up, regaining his superior posture, and looked at the boy's cheeks, flushed from crying and excitement.
"Hmm." He uttered another single syllable, as if responding to Sasuke's answer, then paused before continuing, "You still have a long road ahead of you." His gaze seemed to pierce through the present and see into the distant future. "But don't worry. I'll accompany you for a part of that journey."
Sasuke looked up at the man's blurry yet imposing silhouette against the backlight, his doubts reaching their peak.
"Who...who are you?" he couldn't help but ask again, his voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible dependence and searching.
Yan Sheng looked down at him, uttering a few words in a low voice:
"My name is Yan Sheng, Uchiha Yan Sheng."
“From today onwards, I will be your guardian.”
Sasuke stared blankly at Yan Sheng, hesitant to speak, then pursed his lips. In the end, he said nothing. More pressingly, he wanted to know something else entirely.
"Then...what's the truth?" Sasuke asked, his voice trembling. "When will you tell me the whole truth?"
In his view, the Uchiha, who had always lived outside, suddenly returned to Konoha and "just happened" to be there on the night of the massacre, so he must know something.
Yan Sheng's performance also moved closer to this answer.
Therefore, Sasuke was certain that Yan Sheng knew the truth.
Yan Sheng calmly returned Sasuke's gaze without answering. A few seconds later, he turned and walked to the window, looking out at the bright sunshine and bustling street.
"I will tell you the truth. But not now, and not all at once."
"As you grow, I will tell you a part of the truth as you progress through each stage and as your mind and strength reach the corresponding level. When I believe you are ready to bear it all and have the ability to make your own choices, I will naturally tell you everything without reservation."
Sasuke took a step forward urgently and asked, "Where's my brother? Where's Itachi Uchiha? Where...where is he now?"
Clearly, he was still unwilling to give up, and a faint hope remained deep in his heart, yearning to get a reason from Yan Sheng to exonerate his brother, even if it was just a lie.
Yan Sheng countered, "What kind of answer do you want from me, Sasuke?"
"Do you want me to tell you that all of this is fake? Or do you want me to tell you that he had no choice but to suffer?" Yan Sheng turned to look at Sasuke, his expression cold. "No matter what answer I give, will you believe it right now? Or do you just need an excuse to keep the image of your 'brother' in your heart from collapsing?"
Sasuke opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything.
Yes, what did he want to hear? No matter what Yan Sheng said, the seed of doubt and pain had been planted and could not be eradicated. What he longed for was the gentle and strong older brother he once knew, not a cold-blooded murderer who wiped out his clan.
In the end, Sasuke lowered his head and stopped asking questions.
It's worth mentioning that Sasuke had no memory of what happened in the Hokage's office last night.
The reason is simple.
After leaving the Hokage's office and returning the unconscious Sasuke to the residence provided by the Third Hokage, Kokushibo used his Sharingan to seal Sasuke's memories of that time.
Therefore, Hiruzen Sarutobi's deep voice last night saying "You are threatening me" was indeed a threat.
......
late at night.
The base of "roots".
Hidden beneath the sunlit village.
Danzo Shimura, the "Shadow" of Konoha and the master of Root, is standing in front of a specially made metal device that emits a faint, cold light.
Inside the device, immersed in a pale green nutrient solution, are dozens of newly extracted, still-active, scarlet eyeballs—Sharingan.
In the pupil of each eye, the black magatama seemed to solidify the original owner's last pain and resentment before death.
Danzo's left eye, the only one exposed, gleamed with undisguised greed and satisfaction.
He slowly moved his gaze, like a dragon taking stock of its treasures, scanning each of the eyes that floated slightly in the liquid.
These were the foundation upon which he seized power, the richest "spoils" left behind after the Uchiha clan's annihilation. He seemed to already see himself using these powers to ascend to the position of Hokage and completely control Konoha.
Satisfied, Danzo prepared to leave to proceed with his next plan.
However, the moment he turned around, his blood almost froze.
Not far behind him, an unfamiliar figure had silently appeared.
The person had their back to him, seemingly examining the cabinet in front of them that contained several pairs of Sharingan eyes, their posture as calm as if they were visiting a museum exhibit.
"Who are you!" Danzo exclaimed in shock.
The Root Base is extremely well-hidden, and this laboratory is of utmost importance, surrounded by countless barriers and guards. How could this person have managed to sneak in without making a sound?!
Upon hearing the sound, the man slowly turned around.
In the dim light, Danzo could see the uninvited guest's face clearly—cold and unfamiliar, with a pair of deep black eyes that showed no emotion, staring at him indifferently, as if looking at an inanimate object.
"Just as I thought," Yan Sheng said, his voice flat, revealing neither joy nor anger. "Under the shadow of Konoha, there truly is... a terrible darkness that has been bred."
As he spoke, his gaze swept over the Sharingan stored in the room, finally settling on Danzo.
A ruthless killing intent flashed in Danzo's single eye.
Whoever this person is, having infiltrated this place and witnessed his greatest secret, must not leave alive! He will not allow any accident to disrupt his plans!
"Intruders, die!" Danzo roared, launching his attack without hesitation.
He moved with such speed that he left afterimages, his kunai whistling through the air as it aimed straight for Yan Sheng's vitals. At the same time, the Sharingan transplanted into his right arm, hidden beneath bandages, began to stir subtly.
Faced with this swift and deadly attack, Yan Sheng did not even move his feet.
He merely shifted his body slightly, effortlessly dodging the kunai with a perfectly timed and premeditated movement. Immediately afterward, to Danzo's astonishment, Yan Sheng's hand struck first, gripping Yan Sheng's wrist holding the kunai like an iron clamp.
"Snap!"
A crisp sound of bone cracking rang out in the silent laboratory.
Danzo groaned, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He could feel that his wrist bones had been crushed.
He tried to struggle, mobilize his chakra, and use ninjutsu, but under Yan Sheng's absolute power suppression, all his efforts were like stones sinking into the sea, failing to even stir up a ripple.
Yan Sheng's gaze remained indifferent, as if he had merely swatted away an annoying fly.
—He did indeed intend to kill them. In his eyes, these maggots, who lurked in the shadows and paved their way with the blood and flesh of their own people, had no value whatsoever.
But just as he was about to strike, a thought flashed through his mind.
Danzo's collection of so many Sharingan eyes suggests that he must have had the most direct and sordid connection to the destruction of the Uchiha clan.
Given his high-ranking position in Konoha, wielding immense power and influence, he is highly likely one of the key figures behind the Uchiha clan's destruction, or even the mastermind behind it all.
Since that's the case...
Yan Sheng changed his mind.
Why not leave this dirty target to Sasuke?
Killing Danzo would be easy, but if he did, Sasuke's future hatred might be focused on Itachi Uchiha, and he might even become more tormented and extreme because he lost a clear external target.
Leaving Danzo alive, making him a clear, ugly, and deserving target on Sasuke's path of revenge, might better guide Sasuke's hatred. It could also provide an outlet for venting and diverting hatred in the future when Sasuke learns the truth that Itachi Uchiha was forced and used.
In short, it was about leaving Danzo to Sasuke as a "punching bag".
Of course, Danzo himself absolutely deserved his fate.
Thinking this, Yan Sheng released his grip on Danzo's wrist. Danzo staggered backward, his single eye filled with fear and disbelief.
Yan Sheng neither looked at his disgusting Sharingan collection again nor destroyed them.
These things could also serve as evidence in the future, deepening Sasuke's hatred for Danzo. He needed to ensure that Sasuke's hatred had a sufficiently specific target.
Before Danzo could launch another attack or call for help, Kokushibo's figure instantly closed in. Danzo only saw a pair of deep, swirling eyes magnify before him, and then an irresistible mental force forcefully invaded his brain.
A sharp, piercing pain shot through him, and Danzo's consciousness rapidly blurred. The last thing he saw was Yan Sheng's cold, emotionless eyes.
Yan Sheng erased all of Danzo's memories of his visit that night.
After doing all this, Yan Sheng left quietly, just as he had come, as if he had never been there at all.
***
For Yan Sheng, uncovering the surface truth behind the Uchiha clan's annihilation was not a particularly difficult task. After all, one of the real culprits was within Konoha Village, even holding a high position, and had never deliberately concealed his hostile relationship with the Uchiha.
—It's too obvious.
Honestly.
He didn't even need to use unconventional methods to conduct a thorough investigation. Simply by leveraging his status as Sasuke's "guardian" and engaging in casual conversations with staff at the Hokage's office after completing the adoption procedures, he was able to piece together the key information:
Danzo Shimura, one of the elders of Konoha and the leader of Root, held a well-known radical opposition to the Uchiha clan, believing them to be an "inherently evil" clan. He repeatedly proposed taking strong measures against the Uchiha at high-level meetings.
This information was practically an open secret, and Yan Sheng easily connected the name with the cabinet full of Sharingan he had seen in the Root lab last night.
Danzo was undoubtedly both the executor and beneficiary of the massacre of the Uchiha clan within Konoha; this can almost be confirmed.
Therefore, the problem lies in another direction—
The man wearing the swirling orange mask.
Both were involved in the Uchiha clan massacre, but this man was clearly not on the same side as Danzo.
This means that even if Danzo is brought to justice, the truth about the Uchiha clan massacre remains shrouded in an even deeper fog.
Danzo represents the darkness and exclusion within Konoha, while the masked man represents malice from the outside. They may have reached some kind of tacit understanding or temporary cooperation regarding the massacre of their clan, but their fundamental purposes and the forces they represent are certainly completely different.
Then, there was absolutely no information about the masked man; Konoha had no records of him whatsoever.
Yan Sheng tried searching for clues in Konoha's archives (which, given his abilities, could easily be infiltrated and consulted), but to no avail. There were no records matching his appearance and abilities, nor any mention of space-time ninjutsu. This man seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, solely for that night's carnage.
The only thing Yan Sheng was certain of was that the man possessed Uchiha blood.
His appearance and that Mangekyou Sharingan are irrefutable proof.
As for whether it might be an eye transplant...
The possibility is very small. The Uchiha clan's bloodline limit is coveted by everyone, but obtaining it doesn't mean one can use it effectively. Besides, he could sense that the other person used the Sharingan very smoothly, it was definitely the original one.
Thinking about this, Yan Sheng found it amusing.
The Uchiha clan is truly remarkable. Putting aside the malice of outsiders, those who personally carried out the massacre were all members of the Uchiha clan themselves.
...The Uchiha clan died, and the Uchiha clan wielded the butcher's knife. Question: Who is the victim? Who is the perpetrator?
As the saying goes, even a centipede with a hundred legs doesn't fall down easily; this applies to large families, powerful nations, and aristocratic clans. If they are to die, it's by their own hand. Truly, external troubles are not as frightening as internal strife.
Yan Sheng couldn't help but think of Uchiha Madara from his own world.
I wonder what he would think if he knew that the Uchiha clan in a parallel world would be like this.
Yan Sheng pondered for a moment.
Well, based on his understanding of Madara, he probably won't say much. At most, he'll scoff and think it's all because Madara is too weak.
If Uchiha Izuna knew that his clan's descendants had ended up killing each other and almost being wiped out, he would probably be furious and yell: "Idiots! A bunch of idiots who could go to a museum!"
......
Near the Kannabi Bridge, on the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Grass.
The massive tree roots intertwined to form a vast and dark underground space.
The air here is damp, filled with the smell of decaying earth and plants. The only light sources are some moss that emits a faint glow and a few scattered candle flames.
In the center of the space, the Outer Path Golem stood like a sleeping giant, bringing a silent sense of oppression.
A figure, distorted like ripples on water, slowly emerged from the void.
As soon as Obito Uchiha returned, a dark, liquid-like shadow rose from the ground and quickly condensed into a pitcher plant-like shape—it was Black and White Zetsu.
The white Zetsu half is usually responsible for making jokes and banter, so when important matters arise, it is basically the gloomy black Zetsu that takes the lead.
"How is it?" Black Zetsu's hoarse, deep voice rang out, carrying a subtle hint of urgency.
Obito did not answer; his face was terribly gloomy.
He recalled the man who resembled the young Madara Uchiha, and an absurd yet irrepressible conjecture began to grow in his mind.
He looked coldly at Hei Bai Jue and asked:
“Old man…” He paused, seemingly disgusted by the address, but still asked, “Uchiha Madara… does that guy have other backup plans outside? Or… does he have a child?”
This question struck like a thunderclap in the silent underground space.
The black and white pitcher plant-like body stiffened for a moment, its yellow pupils contracted slightly, and countless question marks arose in its mind.
Why would Obito suddenly ask this? Did he encounter someone related to Madara in Konoha? That's impossible! Madara's plans have been under its surveillance all along. Not only does it know that Madara doesn't have time to have children, it even knows whether he's ever been with any women!
The answer is that Ban has never been with a woman.
There was no time for it, and Ban didn't even have the idea.
Therefore, Ban cannot have direct descendants. Unless... it was much earlier, when it wasn't paying attention...
Countless schemes and plots raced through Black Zetsu's millennia-old mind, and it had to proceed with extreme caution. Any issue related to bloodlines and offspring could touch upon its deepest secret—its plan to resurrect its mother—and it could not allow any unforeseen complications to arise.
"Why do you ask that?" In a flash, Black Zetsu didn't deny it directly, but instead asked in a tone full of doubt and inquiry, trying to get more information out of Obito, "What did you encounter?"
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Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your comforting words, I'm much better! [Let me see...]
Working hard to type...
Oh right, if I write quickly, it'll be around noon; if I write slowly, it'll be in the afternoon. And I've been having a bit of writer's block lately, so it'll most likely be an afternoon update. You can check back in the afternoon! [pat on the head]
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