Hiruzen's eyes narrowed.
After a moment's pause, he finally spoke in a low voice.
"Let him in."
At his word, Inoichi Yamanaka stepped inside.
The middle-aged man with cropped golden hair and a stern face walked in, confusion flickering in his gaze.
Indeed—though the Ino–Shika–Cho trio always worked as one, Nara Shikaku had only returned that evening, and they hadn't yet had time to exchange information. Now, being summoned abruptly by Hiruzen, Inoichi naturally had no idea what was going on.
A quick glance around the tea room told him all he needed.
Besides Hiruzen, the only other person present was drenched in cold sweat, trembling uncontrollably.
A closer look—ah, wasn't that the so-called genius of the Sarutobi clan, Sarutobi Ran?
It took only a moment for Inoichi's sharp mind to register the situation.
He immediately bowed. "Hokage-sama."
"You're here, Inoichi," Hiruzen said coolly. "Sit. There's a small matter I need your help with."
His tone was like ice.
Normally, Hiruzen would put on his kindly façade when dealing with someone like Inoichi. After all, unlike Ran, Inoichi was not only the head of the Yamanaka clan but also Captain of the Analysis Division.
Though not one of Konoha's seven great power departments, the Analysis Division—like the Sealing Division—was a true vital organ of the village. Combined with his clan's authority, Inoichi was a figure of real influence.
But tonight?
Hiruzen had no patience left. His son was most likely dead.
"Oh… understood," Inoichi said quickly.
He sensed the heavy atmosphere, and wisely chose silence.
He knew Hiruzen well enough to recognize—if the Hokage was baring his fangs like this, he was truly enraged.
What kind of matter could drive such a shrewd old fox into this state?
Instinctively, Inoichi's eyes slid toward Ran.
Yes… it must be tied to him.
But, not his business. Best to sit still and wait for orders.
And indeed—
The moment Ran saw Inoichi enter, his face turned deathly pale.
As a Sarutobi elder, he knew all too well of the Yamanaka clan's secret techniques—memory extraction.
But those jutsu were irreversible. At best, they left the target a drooling fool. At worst—instant death.
What should he do?
For the first time, Ran truly panicked.
Now he understood Hiruzen's earlier words.
That "genius" status he had always leaned on—before the true powers of the village, it meant nothing.
He collapsed to the ground, knocking his forehead bloody as he kowtowed again and again.
"Clan Leader, I was wrong! Please—give me another chance! I swear I'll never—"
But it was too late.
Hiruzen had no patience left.
A flash—
The kunai slit Ran's throat before he could finish his plea.
Caught completely off guard, he crashed to the floor. Blood spattered the tatami mats.
Sarutobi Ran, dead.
Even in death, his eyes bulged wide with disbelief.
How could this be?
Why hadn't Hiruzen even listened to a single word?
And then, at the very end—he understood.
His father had been right.
A man must learn to endure.
Never bare your fangs until the very last moment.
He had erred.
Before Hiruzen's death, before he had power of his own, before he had built a true faction—he never should have revealed his claws.
Against men of this level, all the things he thought he had—talent, reputation—meant nothing.
But his realization had come too late.
And so he died, suffocated by regret.
Only after finishing the deed did Hiruzen turn back to Inoichi, face calm once more.
"Inoichi, forgive the ugliness of my household.
Now I must trouble you. I want every detail of this man's memories—today's, down to the smallest."
Inoichi's eyes flickered.
Good heavens.
That was the Sarutobi clan's prodigy!
True, without backing, a mere "talent" carried little weight among the clans—but to cut him down so decisively, without hesitation…
Even Inoichi was taken aback.
Still, as head of the Yamanaka, his tolerance for blood was strong. He quickly recovered, merely nodding in acknowledgment.
Without another word, he stepped to Ran's corpse and began weaving hand seals, his clan's secret arts already stirring.
As he worked, he spoke evenly:
"Hokage-sama. Please, employ your Telescope Technique. I will project the extracted memories into it."
Hiruzen nodded, pleased by Inoichi's caution.
Wordlessly, he produced a crystal ball, hands forming seals until it glowed with misty light.
Inoichi pressed his jutsu deeper, prying open the shattered fragments of Ran's mind and projecting them outward.
The crystal sphere shimmered—and scenes began to unfold.
But as the memories played out, Inoichi's composure cracked.
What the hell?!
Koharu, Homura, Danzo—and this idiot Ran—working together to ambush the Anbu Commander, Sarutobi Shinnosuke, the Hokage's own son?!
And worse—it was Ran himself who'd lured him out using the clan's summoning jutsu?!
Inoichi's mind reeled.
Was this man insane?
Why would anyone commit such a suicidal blunder?
But forget that—the real horror was the bigger picture.
The true Hokage faction—Koharu, Homura, Danzo's three clans—had turned their blades on Hiruzen's own blood.
Just how deep had the rift grown?
This matter was too grave. Far too big.
Inoichi's scalp prickled. If he had a choice, he wouldn't want to know a single word of this.
But he had no choice—he was the caster.
Whether he wanted to or not, every last secret was now seared into his mind.
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