Root Headquarters.

  Even past the age of fifty, Shimura Danzo remained as active as a young shinobi.

  He insisted on handling matters personally, always preferring to pull the strings with his own hands.

  “Ryoma,” Danzo said without looking up, eyes scanning a scroll. “Has the Uchiha relocation been completed?”

  The chaos during the Nine-Tails’ attack had left Konoha scarred. And in the beast’s eyes—clear as day—a pair of giant Sharingan had appeared.

  Which led the vilge to one conclusion: suspect the Uchiha.

  At the Konoha Restoration Council meeting, it was Danzo who first proposed relocating the entire Uchiha cn to the southwestern outskirts, away from the vilge’s heart. They would be monitored by ANBU 24/7.

  This wasn’t just a loss of territory—it was a loss of trust.

  Danzo’s bias pyed a role, no doubt.

  But this decision wasn’t his alone. The entire Konoha high council had agreed, including Sarutobi Hiruzen.

  Without that support, even Danzo wouldn’t have had the authority to push it through.

  A man in a bck cloak slipped silently into the room—Aburame Ryoma.

  “It’s mostly done,” he reported.

  “And their reaction?”

  “They resisted. Strongly. No one was happy. A few cshes broke out, but Uchiha Fugaku personally stepped in and stopped them.”

  Danzo’s ever-expressionless face twisted into an ugly smile.

  His pn had gone off without a hitch.

  He almost felt grateful to the mysterious man who had controlled the Nine-Tails.

  Without that chaos, he never would’ve had the excuse to push the Uchiha to the edge of the vilge.

  “The Uchiha are a powder keg now,” Danzo murmured, running a hand over his right arm.

  He’d already transpnted cells from Hashirama Senju—now he possessed Wood Release.

  All he needed was a Sharingan.

  Then he’d be unstoppable. Even Sarutobi Hiruzen wouldn’t stand a chance.

  The Hokage’s seat? It would be his for the taking.

  Danzo’s suppression of the Uchiha wasn’t just about following in Tobirama’s footsteps—it was also about seizing the Sharingan.

  He had coveted that bloodline limit for years.

  After all, Wood Release and the Sharingan represented Hashirama and Madara—powerhouses whose strength once shook the heavens.

  “Then why…” Danzo’s grip on the scroll tightened.

  The Nine-Tails’ Rampage had pushed the Uchiha out of the vilge center.

  The young Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, had perished heroically.

  Two good things, stacked together.

  So why did everything feel so wrong?

  He never dreamed he’d live to see Sarutobi Hiruzen wear the Hokage’s robes a second time.

  It made his blood boil.

  “Well, Hiruzen won’t st long anyway,” Danzo muttered to himself. “As long as I get the Sharingan before the Fifth Hokage is chosen, I still have time.”

  He exhaled slowly.

  Hiruzen was basically back from retirement.

  But only because the vilge was in crisis.

  Once things stabilized, the selection of a new Hokage would be inevitable.

  And how much longer could Hiruzen keep going? A year? Maybe less?

  He was old. His death could come at any time.

  The thought soothed Danzo’s bitter heart.

  “Danzo-sama.”

  Another Root operative fshed into the room. “Subject A has gone missing. We’ve searched everywhere—no trace.”

  Danzo’s smile froze. His expression darkened instantly.

  Subject A—Yamato—the lone survivor of the Wood Release experiments.

  A priceless asset.

  Not only would he have made a loyal subordinate with Wood Release, but also a neat little surprise for Hiruzen.

  Danzo had been giddy just imagining that reveal.

  Now? It was gone.

  Yamato’s disappearance was a serious threat.

  If he had fallen into Hiruzen’s hands, the entire experiment—everything Danzo and Orochimaru had done—would be exposed.

  It would be like handing Hiruzen a bde and baring his own neck.

  “Say that again!” Danzo barked.

  “He vanished st night. We searched all night, but there’s no sign. It’s highly likely he left Konoha,” the Root ninja expined in detail.

  “A whole grown man disappears under your watch, and you found nothing?!” Danzo erupted.

  “Useless! Useless fools, all of you!”

  He had pced Yamato in a secluded training base for two reasons: one, to let him train in peace; two, so Root could monitor him at all times.

  It was supposed to be secure.

  And now this.

  Danzo seethed in helpless fury.

  His Root operatives had been trained to abandon all emotion—to become weapons of the dark.

  Yelling wouldn’t change anything.

  “Orochimaru?”

  Danzo forced himself to calm down, gripping his cane. “Where is he?”

  Officially, Orochimaru was still a Root member, working alongside Aburame Ryoma as Danzo’s personal guard.

  But he hadn’t shown up today.

  “He’s at home, conducting experiments,” Ryoma replied.

  “Go check his b. See if there’s any trace of Subject A.”

  Danzo didn’t suspect Orochimaru without cause.

  There were only a few people in Konoha capable of pulling off such a vanishing act without leaving a single clue.

  Orochimaru was one of them.

  Ryoma was a master tracker—he came from the Aburame cn, insect users skilled in stealth and surveilnce.

  If anyone could scout Orochimaru’s base without being noticed, it was him.

  Ninja Academy.

  Natsume stifled a yawn.

  The ninja courses were fine—pretty useful, actually.

  But the theory csses? Boring as hell.

  Two main subjects: the Legacy of the Hokage, and the Will of Fire.

  And naturally, Sarutobi Hiruzen was the star of the show.

  Natsume was starting to suspect he had written the damn textbook himself.

  It painted him as the greatest Hokage of all time.

  By all logic, Hiruzen should’ve understood the greatness of Hashirama and Tobirama—after all, he’d trained under the tter.

  So why did he accept the title of "the strongest Hokage" without blinking?

  Natsume could only think of one reason: to strengthen his political grip.

  He cast a sideways gnce at Uchiha Itachi.

  The boy was paying rapt attention.

  Maybe this was where Itachi’s obsession with the Will of Fire began.

  According to canon, Uchiha Itachi had one hell of a résumé: went to war at four, graduated at seven, awakened the Sharingan at eight, joined the ANBU at eleven, and by thirteen… murdered his cn.

  Legendary, in the darkest way.

  Natsume didn’t particurly like him.

  But the guy was tied to a ton of fate points—definitely worth farming.

  That said, Natsume had zero intention of keeping him close.

  Too dangerous.

  This was someone who didn’t even flinch at killing his own parents. Who knew when he’d stab you in the back?

  No thanks.

  But just because Natsume didn’t want him didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t.

  Itachi’s first major fate node was joining the ANBU.

  And Natsume had just the guy in mind to adopt him.

  Not Kabuto’s beloved foster mom, Nonou.

  He meant Orochimaru.

  This wasn’t charity.

  Once Itachi awakened his Mangekyo Sharingan, he’d be Orochimaru’s natural counter.

  That pairing? Bound to set off some serious fireworks.

  Itachi suddenly shivered, for no reason.

  He gnced at his desk partner. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Natsume replied with a smile. “Wanna grab something to eat after css?”

  “Thanks. But no.”

  Itachi’s tone was calm but distant.

  As a prodigy of the Uchiha cn, he was mature beyond his years—quiet, reserved, and socially awkward.

  More importantly, he didn’t see any reason to talk to Natsume.

  If he had free time, he’d rather discuss the Will of Fire with Shisui.

  You know… grown-up stuff.