Chapter 458: Uchiha Madara: Huh? The Sharingan Is Inferior to the Byakugan?
Nawaki stared in surprise. "Uncle… don't tell me you really just became a player?"
It wasn't an unreasonable reaction.
The Samsara Game had been around in the ninja world for almost two years now, and the player base had grown to the hundreds of thousands. Any ninja or samurai with even a shred of potential had already been recruited by various factions.
A new player like Uchiha Madara—someone with immense strength and talent—was incredibly rare.
Though not entirely unheard of.
A recent example was Aizen Sōsuke, a rising star among the newly discovered talents.
With his gentle demeanor, flawless conduct, elegance, and loyalty, Aizen had even triggered a wave across the five great ninja villages, prompting them to search aggressively for more gifted rookies.
But they quickly realized—
Most of the newcomers, whether civilians or ninjas, turned out to be painfully average.
Panning for gold in the desert rarely yielded results.
Nawaki thought to himself: If I could recruit this uncle, I bet my sister would be thrilled.
Madara didn't answer. He simply nodded.
He had just entered the Samsara Game and didn't fully grasp the rules. Even pretending otherwise wouldn't be convincing—it would quickly fall apart.
Might as well be honest and earn their trust.
That said...
Madara's eyes were full of disappointment as he thought, So Konoha has already forgotten me after just a few decades?
Young ninja like Nawaki didn't even recognize him.
The leader of the Uchiha clan. The sworn rival of the Senju.
Uchiha Madara pushed aside the thought, nodding expressionlessly. "Working together is fine."
Seeing him agree, Nawaki beamed. "You seem cold, but you're actually pretty reasonable, huh? Black-haired uncle!"
"Don't call me uncle."
Madara replied, expressionless, "I'm much older than you think."
Looking at the naïve, pure-hearted boy before him—with that unmistakable idiotic cheer—Madara couldn't help but think that Hashirama's dumb bloodline was strong indeed.
The Uchiha were full of fools. Not one clan member shared Madara's temperament.
Could it be that his bloodline was inferior to Hashirama's?
Disgraceful!
That very thought made Madara feel like he had lost to Hashirama yet again. His fist clenched.
Just like that time long ago—when he realized he couldn't pee as far as Hashirama. The ultimate humiliation.
"Uncle, are you from the Land of Fire? What's your name?"
"Land of Grass. Just Madara."
When his life had neared its end, it had been in the outskirts of the Land of Grass. So calling himself a Grass Country native wasn't inaccurate.
Nawaki nodded approvingly. "That's a great name!"
Madara frowned. "Is it?"
"Of course!" Nawaki said excitedly. "Uncle, maybe you don't know—but your name is the same as the founder of our Hidden Leaf Village!"
Then his mood dipped slightly as he added, "Unfortunately, when Konoha was destroyed, the library was burned. Most of the records on Uchiha Madara were lost."
That's why even someone like Naruto Uzumaki hadn't recognized the famous Sannin when he met them for the first time.
The ninja school curriculum focused almost entirely on combat techniques.
Historical texts and records of notable figures were few and mostly forgotten in dusty archives. Even someone like the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, was only vaguely known by the general populace—mostly by his carved face on the Hokage Rock.
Of course, some of the blame fell on the Second Hokage, who marginalized the Uchiha clan.
Still, those who made the effort could find what little remained.
Madara's gaze shifted, feigning ignorance. He said with a hint of mockery, "Uchiha Madara? I heard he was a criminal who attacked Konoha."
It was hard to believe those words came from a Leaf ninja's mouth.
Especially a descendant of the Senju.
Yet the simple-minded Nawaki surprised him by replying, "That's not wrong—but just because he made mistakes doesn't mean we should ignore the achievements of Uchiha Madara and the Uchiha clan."
"Mistakes don't erase merit, huh?"
Madara made no comment.
What the world thought of him didn't matter. His true goal was to create an ideal world of peace.
Still, hearing praise from Hashirama's grandson was like a dash of flavor in an otherwise bland life.
Not bad.
"Careful. Polluted monster approaching!"
Tanjiro performed a spiritual technique, pinching a yellow talisman between two fingers.
The charm burned away, and its ashes formed a yellow origami crane that flew ahead to probe the darkness.
A pitch-black goblin with elongated ears and a crude bomb in hand blended into the shadows.
Boom!
It hurled the bomb.
Madara remained calm, raising his hand to swat it away. Such a crude explosive couldn't be more dangerous than two basic explosive tags.
It wouldn't harm him in the slightest.
Still, remembering how even a beheaded Expeller could still fight,
He went all out, just in case.
A faint blue chakra quickly formed a skeletal hand—a partial Susanoo. It shielded Nawaki and Tanjiro while intercepting the bomb.
BOOM!
A violent explosion erupted. The shockwave gouged a crater in the earth.
Madara had braced himself, but even he hadn't expected such a powerful blast.
The Susanoo's skeletal arm was pierced clean through—the palm blown open.
"What…? The ultimate defense, Susanoo… actually broke?"
Madara's Sharingan spun slowly, his eyes slightly shaken.
He had fought many clans in the Warring States era, some of whom used crude explosives—precursors to today's explosive tags.
But he had never seen such power packed into a bomb that could fit in the palm of your hand.
Thankfully,
The Susanoo shield had held just long enough. Nawaki and Tanjiro were unharmed, and together they took advantage of the goblin's distraction to kill it.
Nawaki turned back to Madara, eyes on the damaged Susanoo.
He hesitated.
Madara no longer felt like hiding. He said coldly, "Yes, I'm Uchi—"
But he was cut off.
Nawaki stared at him with sparkling eyes and said, "You've got a Mangekyō? Didn't expect you to be so loaded, Uncle! Are you a noble from the Land of Grass?"
"???"
Madara choked on his words.
Nawaki continued proudly, as if he'd seen right through him: "No worries. Ever since the Samsara Game appeared, no one cares about bloodlines anymore. Like the Byakugan—it used to be exclusive to the Hyuga clan, but now anyone can exchange for it."
The Byakugan, considered one of the best Tier-1 perception-type eye techniques, had become very popular.
At first, the Hyuga clan tried to resist, but there were just too many users. They couldn't pick fights with everyone.
In contrast,
The Sharingan required a hefty point cost to unlock, had a complex evolution system, and came with dangerous side effects—especially at Mangekyō level.
Fewer players chose to invest in it.
Still, some diehard fans did choose it.
But players like this uncle, who went straight for the Mangekyō, were indeed rare.
Madara listened in silence—and snapped.
"The Sharingan… is inferior to the Byakugan?"
"Outrageous!"
"You ignorant worm! You know nothing of the Sharingan!"
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read: patreon.com/Franklin1