Chapter 318 – The Specialist
What schemes the Third Hokage was brewing, Uchiha Kei had no idea.
But if he did know, he'd probably only feel delighted.
After all, the "Uchiha" Sarutobi and his advisors were referring to could only be Uchiha Shisui.
Kei kept a careful eye on that boy, yes—
but did he truly fear him?
Not really.
They stood on completely different levels, and their power gap was no small thing.
Of course, Kei had to admit Shisui's Kotoamatsukami was an enormous threat.
But after thinking it over again and again, Kei realized something:
that technique might not necessarily work on him.
Or rather—it might not carry the danger others imagined.
First of all, Kei's eyes were no longer "ordinary" Mangekyō Sharingan.
He had already stepped beyond the usual limits, even if he hadn't yet reached the Eternal stage.
Shisui's eyes were undoubtedly powerful—strong enough to manifest a four-armed Susanoo with a single eye.
That alone deserved caution.
But power on different tiers didn't necessarily interact the same way. Kei was no longer on the same rung as Shisui.
Even if Kotoamatsukami did manage to affect him, the chakra cost for Shisui would be catastrophic.
Just like Kei himself—with his three temporal dojutsu—would suffer absurd backlash if he tried using them on someone much stronger.
And Kei had one more advantage:
He wielded time-based Mangekyō abilities.
If something felt wrong, if even the slightest hint of mental intrusion reached him, he could freeze Shisui in time just like he once did to Uchiha Shuu—
then pluck out the boy's eye before he even blinked.
Let's see him use Kotoamatsukami after that.
In truth, Kei would welcome it if Shisui actually took action.
If Sarutobi dared extend his influence into Konoha's clan politics—a line even the First and Second Hokage never crossed—
then Kei would finally have a perfect excuse to cut off the Third's hands, and maybe carve out a piece for himself as compensation.
But that was all for the future.
And only if Kei learned of their schemes in the first place.
•••
The village was anything but peaceful.
The Kirigakure incident—reinforced by Minato and Shikaku's coordinated "guidance"—
had transformed into a wildfire of discussion.
The noise wasn't dying down.
If anything, it was spreading uncontrollably.
They themselves didn't realize it yet, but their decision had unintentionally smothered one of Konoha's looming crises before it could ever be born.
By now, almost every shinobi in the village knew the truth.
They also knew about the existence of Uchiha who could control tailed beasts.
Fortunately, the villagers remained fairly rational.
Minato and Shikaku had been very careful when releasing information, always distinguishing between:
Konoha's Uchiha
and
the rogue Uchiha who attacked Konoha and Kirigakure.
There would always be people whose prejudice ran deep—
those influenced by the Second and Third Hokage, or those simply jealous of the Uchiha's rising standing.
But their voices were too small to stir anything significant.
The people of Konoha remembered clearly:
On the night of the Nine-Tails, it was the Police Force who held the line.
It was the Uchiha clan head who fought to his last breath.
It was the Police Force captain—Kei himself—who saved countless lives.
With those achievements, and Minato's public endorsement,
the Uchiha actually gained sympathy.
A traitor had emerged among them.
But every clan had its outliers.
In truth, these rumors unexpectedly benefited the Uchiha quite a bit.
But for Uchiha Kei?
It was torture.
After all—
the so-called "masked Uchiha" causing all this chaos was him.
Everywhere he went, he heard new, increasingly absurd legends about…
himself.
At first, he found it amusing.
But after days of overhearing exaggerated rumors about "the monstrous Uchiha who single-handedly shattered Kirigakure,"
he was starting to lose his patience.
Because the villagers didn't know the truth, they had unknowingly begun to lump Kei Uchiha together with Obito.
And somehow, he had become the "heinous supervillain" in their eyes.
Granted, Kei probably wasn't far from "heinous" when it came to his enemies —
or to the shinobi of Kirigakure.
But to the people of Konoha?
He was a spotless hero.
•••
"Kei-kun… We truly didn't expect things to spiral like this."
In the Hokage's office, Minato sat with an embarrassed smile.
Shikaku, at his side, remained silently observant.
All of Konoha was buzzing over the Kirigakure incident.
Even if they didn't know it was Kei, anyone could tell the scale of destruction was… extraordinary.
And looking at the easy rapport between Minato and Kei, it was clear their relationship bordered more on friendship than superior and subordinate.
"I know, Captain Minato."
Kei sighed. "It's just—being forced to take the blame for someone else isn't exactly pleasant."
"But at least the attention has shifted entirely onto Kirigakure."
Minato chuckled at Kei's exasperation.
"Speaking of which… the timing might be perfect, don't you think?"
Kei understood immediately.
They had long planned to divert attention away from the controversial "Abolish Special Jōnin" motion and "Increase Jōnin Benefits."
And once the spotlight moved elsewhere, they would introduce their real reform:
Upgrading benefits for Chūnin and Genin.
Originally this shift was projected to take at least a year.
No one knew when Kirigakure's isolation would end.
But Kei's… explosive rampage had turned out to be a shortcut.
Even if Kirigakure didn't seal itself off, Konoha's attention was already elsewhere — and would remain so for quite some time, especially with Minato and Shikaku's deliberate guidance.
In other words, this was the perfect moment to roll out reforms.
"Indeed, it's an excellent opportunity." Kei nodded.
"Unexpected, yes. But effective.
And it seems the villagers' resentment toward the Nine-Tails has now shifted onto 'me.'
That probably eased the pressure on your family quite a bit."
"So using this window to push Chūnin and Genin welfare upward… is a wise choice."
"Thank you, Kei-kun."
Gratitude showed clearly on Minato's face.
"Truly, the villagers now resent the one who released the Nine-Tails, not the beast itself.
It's just… well, a bit unfair to—"
"Unfair? Hardly. Who cares who destroyed Kirigakure?
And even if they found out, it's not like I had anything to do with the Nine-Tails."
Kei waved it off.
"Anyway—what exactly are the welfare changes you've drafted?"
"Please take a look, Section Chief."
At last, Shikaku spoke, passing Kei a set of documents.
Shikaku's presence wasn't surprising.
He had already sensed that Kei and Minato intended to reshape something fundamental — even if he didn't yet know what.
He could see hints everywhere:
The sudden rise in Jōnin authority
The decision to abolish Special Jōnin
Repeated restructuring of the shinobi hierarchy
And the moment Minato personally approached him requesting help drafting new welfare policies, Shikaku knew:
Konoha is on the brink of a major shift.
No reform was ever made purely out of kindness.
As an advisor, Shikaku understood that every change
was designed after careful calculation
and aimed at maximizing long-term advantages.
What Kei and Minato's true goals were, he didn't know.
But he did know one thing:
It was safest to participate.
If they succeeded, he—and his clan—would benefit greatly.
If they failed, he would still learn their intentions early enough to decide whether to assist… or abandon ship.
But truthfully?
Shikaku doubted they would fail.
Strengthening the lower ranks stabilized Minato's political foundation.
And Kei was no fool.
Something bigger was definitely hidden beneath the surface.
---
"These proposals are good."
After reading everything carefully, Kei nodded.
"The basic welfare improvements make sense.
But the promotion pathway needs to be tightened."
He tapped the document.
"According to your outline, Chūnin enjoy a rather generous resource quota.
So the difficulty of advancing from Genin to Chūnin should be slightly increased.
Mission requirements should be raised as well."
"As for the exam portion—"
"Oh?" Shikaku raised a brow. "Does Section Chief Kei have something different in mind?"
"For the exams, I think we should relax them a little."
Kei smiled.
"I assume you both remember—we intend to eliminate the Special Jōnin rank, yes?"
"Of course." Shikaku nodded. "That's why these policies were drafted."
"Special Jōnin existed for one reason:
Shinobi who fell short of Jōnin overall standard but excelled in specific areas needed a place to fit."
Kei crossed his arms.
"So doesn't that imply Konoha has a lot of… specialists?"
"Specialists?" Shikaku echoed. "You mean—"
"People whose talents are extremely strong in one direction and mediocre elsewhere." Kei clarified.
"That's not a flaw.
That's a strength.
We should encourage well-rounded development, yes—
but when someone's talent in a particular field is exceptional,
shouldn't we provide them with support, nurture that talent,
and give them meaningful opportunities to contribute to Konoha?"