c141: Are You Mocking Me?
The scene with the Kirigakure chūnin was the first but not the last. Uchiha Gen already knew it would become routine.
Every day from now on, he would devote half of his soul outward through spiritual transformation, puppeteering enemy shinobi, and reaping their lifespans in silence.
What appeared to be a loyal Mist shinobi suddenly betraying comrades was, in truth, Gen's hidden blade. Everything happened in the realm of consciousness undetectable to all but the most gifted sensory types. To the average shinobi, nothing seemed amiss until the killing blow was already struck.
But Gen was cautious. He suppressed his own greed and laid out a conservative quota:
Sixty genin souls per month.
Six chūnin souls per month.
One jōnin soul per month.
Enough to grow steadily without alerting Kiri's command.
With 1,400 Mist ninja on the front lines 20 jōnin, 300 chūnin, 1,200 genin the harvest could last indefinitely if handled with care.
…
A week passed this way. The slight uptick in Kiri casualties barely raised suspicion. To their commanders, this was war's natural rhythm.
But far away, new eyes were already turning toward him.
High atop a snow-capped peak near Konoha's camp, space itself twisted. A vortex spun reality into threads, and from it stepped two figures:
One cloaked in black with a mask of white and black spirals.
The other pale as snow, with algae-green hair and a mocking smile.
Uchiha Obito.
Zetsu the "A Fei" personality.
"Summon the White Zetsu watching the camp," Obito ordered.
A Fei closed his eyes, sank into the earth's network, then nodded. Moments later, four pale forms emerged from the snow.
"How is the target?" Obito asked, his Sharingan glimmering faintly beneath the mask.
"He's been promoted to deputy commander," one Zetsu replied. "Remains inside the camp most of the time. Rarely leaves."
Obito's lips curled faintly. "Deputy commander? Heh… impressive. From genin to second-in-command in just two years. Kakashi never rose that fast."
A Fei grinned, thinking Obito sounded bitter. "What's a title matter? You've surpassed them all. Every move you make reshapes the shinobi world. That's more than rank."
Obito was silent a beat. Then: "…Don't comfort me. I'm not so fragile. Position and fame are meaningless. What matters is peace. Peace… and Rin's smile."
The cold wind howled.
"Surrounded by barriers, guards, even strange psychic beasts with no time limit," Zetsu reported. "It won't be easy to lure him out."
"Monitor him. Tell me the moment he leaves," Obito commanded.
The Zetsu nodded and slipped back into the earth.
As they vanished, A Fei tilted his head. "With your Kamui, you could just attack him directly. Why not now?"
Obito's voice was calm. "It's more interesting outside. Let him walk into my grasp of his own will. As a fellow Uchiha… I want to measure his so-called genius for myself."
A Fei smirked. "Your taste is terrible."
"I just finished tightening control over Yagura and the Three-Tails," Obito said coldly. "This will be… relaxation."
"…Just don't lose."
"I'm not facing Namikaze Minato again," Obito snapped. "Even if I did fail, I could always harvest another Uchiha. The clan breeds plenty of three-tomoe."
Space distorted again, and the two vanished.
…
Days later, in the Mizukage's office, Yagura's eyes glazed over. The vortex opened and Obito stepped out, mask gleaming, settling casually on the desk. A Fei followed, swinging his legs like a child.
Obito sipped from Yagura's abandoned coffee. "What about using Zetsu to provoke a skirmish? Lure the deputy commander out?"
"Too risky," Obito countered himself after a thought. "As commander, the initiative is his. He might just refuse."
"Then what?" A Fei asked.
"We'll use deception. Zetsu disguised as a Konoha Anbu messenger, carrying forged orders from the Hokage. That, he cannot ignore."
A Fei's grin widened. "Smart. No risk of refusal."
"I'll make sure the disguise is flawless," Obito muttered, rubbing his chin. "I'll steal a uniform directly from Anbu stock. He'll see nothing wrong."
"Obito, you've grown so much smarter," A Fei said teasingly.
Obito glared. "I wasn't stupid. Just… too naïve. Too kind."
"…Right," A Fei said quickly, hands raised.
Obito ignored him. "We'll stage it at Red Moon Lake. In autumn, the maples bleed crimson, the lake burns like fire. A fitting grave for an Uchiha. We'll take his eyes, then let him sink into the flames."
A Fei blinked, then sighed theatrically. "Obito, you're too kind. Giving him such a beautiful resting place."
Obito's mask turned sharply. "…Are you mocking me?"
A Fei waved his hands. "No, no! I mean it! Really!"
"…Heh. Your brain circuits are bizarre."
"Bizarre or not, you're still kind."
"Don't mistake me for kind," Obito said coldly. "When this world is remade there will be no graves, no grief. Until then… he's just another piece."
Obito's Sharingan spun into Mangekyō, the triangular sickle twisting with dark power. His gaze locked Yagura's dull eyes, tightening control once more.
The Mizukage's body resumed motion, signing documents mechanically. A puppet bound by invisible strings.
The next day, the operation to ensnare Uchiha Gen began.
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