Akai and En immediately came forward, their gazes sweeping over the permit in his hand, a hint of understanding flashing in their eyes.
"My lord, was everything smooth?" Akai asked in a low voice, his gaze warily sweeping over the surrounding Ninja.
Shine folded the permit and tucked it into his embrace, a cold, sharp arc forming at the corner of his mouth: "Smooth. Let's go, back to the Village."
He took a step, walking towards the direction outside the camp, his white Uchiha Clan uniform fluttering in the twilight, like a night hawk spreading its wings of vengeance.
Inside the tent, Jiraiya was still frowning at the map. He would never have imagined that the person he had just let go was not just a tired Elite Jōnin, but a sharp blade about to pierce Konoha's darkness.
And in Shine's heart, the chess game of revenge had quietly unfolded—starting from rescuing the Uzumaki mother and daughter, starting from establishing an underground base, he would, little by little, reclaim everything owed to the Uchiha, with interest.
The evening breeze, carrying the scent of fireworks from the front-line camp, swept past his brow. Shine's steps abruptly halted the moment he entered the shadows of the forest.
The hem of his dark clan uniform still swayed lightly from his walk, but he suddenly turned sideways, his gaze piercing through the twilight, fixed intently on the outline of the brightly lit camp—that was the symbol of Konoha, and also the breeding ground for "traitors."
Akai and En stopped in tacit understanding, standing guard on either side of Shine, their palms already quietly resting on their Ninja tools.
They didn't need to ask why; they could sense it from the sudden surge of sinister aura around Shine—at this moment, their lord was enveloped by extreme hatred.
Shine's jawline was tensed straight, his teeth biting deep marks, and even his breathing carried a cold ferocity. In those ink-black pupils, which had just faded from crimson, surged a venom more terrifying than the Mangekyo.
"Uchiha Shisui... Uchiha Itachi..." He whispered these two names, each word squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying a poisoned texture.
His fingertips curled from the exertion, his nails digging deeply into old scars on his palms. Blood dripped from between his fingers onto the withered leaves, the spreading dark red stain exactly like the brand of his hatred for these two in his heart.
In Shine's eyes, these two were never "Uchiha heroes," but traitors who personally plunged a blade into the Family's heart!
Shisui possessed the Kotoamatsukami, hailed as the "strongest genjutsu"; it should have been the ultimate weapon to protect the Uchiha, yet he used this power to "protect Konoha"—
He watched Danzo take his eye, watched the Family gradually decline under the suppression of the Konoha High Command, and ultimately chose to commit suicide by jumping off a cliff, exchanging so-called "sacrifice" for Konoha's brief peace, but leaving the entire Uchiha in a precarious situation.
And Itachi was even more unforgivable!
That Genius praised by the Clan Members, that heir on whom great hopes were placed since childhood, ultimately raised a butcher's knife and slaughtered his own Clan Members one by one.
Even if the world bestowed upon him titles like "undercover" and "helpless," in Shine's view, it was utterly ridiculous—if he truly had the heart to protect the Family, why didn't he unite the Clan's strength to resist?
Why choose the cruelest method, almost severing the Uchiha's Bloodline?
The so-called "to protect Sasuke" was merely a fig leaf for his betrayal of the Family!
"Traitors... all deserve to die!" Shine's voice suddenly rose, carrying an uncontrollable roar.
He recalled the tragic scene of the Uchiha Clan Massacre Night in the manga from his previous life, remembering the desperate wails of the Clan Members before their deaths. Those images overlapped with the potential crisis his parents faced in this life, adding a touch of madness to his hatred.
On his revenge list, Danzo and the Third Hokage were certainly at the forefront, but Shisui and Itachi, these two "Clan traitors," must be dealt with first—unless these two poisonous thorns embedded in the Family's heart were cut out, the Uchiha would never know peace!
Akai and En, standing by, remained silent. Akai tightened his grip on his tachi, the scabbard rubbing against his belt with a faint sound, a signal that he was ready to execute orders at any moment;
En, meanwhile, twirled a Kunai between his fingers, his gaze following Shine's to the distance, without the slightest hesitation in his eyes—whether the target was Konoha High Command or their own Clan Members, as long as it was an enemy determined by their lord, they were the ones to be cut down.
Shine took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the rage in his chest, the ferocity in his eyes gradually settling into cold determination.
He took one last look at the camp, as if he could see through layers of tents to the figures of those two "traitors" within Konoha Village.
"Back to the Village." He dropped two words, turned, and began walking towards Konoha, each step steady and firm.
Akai and En followed closely, their three figures quickly merging into the darkness of the forest.
In the night, Shine had only one thought: first, clean house, make Shisui and Itachi pay the price for their betrayal, and then turn back and drag those Konoha High Command who oppressed the Uchiha, one by one, into Hell!
This hatred was pure and fervent, without the slightest wavering, and without a trace of mercy—for traitors, there was no need for leniency.
When the footsteps of Shine and his two companions completely disappeared into the forest, the tent flap of the command post was lifted by the wind, the cool evening breeze sending a shiver down Jiraiya's spine, finally snapping him out of his daze from Shine's departure.
He sat back in the main seat, just about to pick up another cigarette, only to find the ashtray already overflowing with cigarette butts, the acrid taste of tobacco still lingering on his fingertips.
"Damn it," Jiraiya cursed under his breath, irritably raking his disheveled white hair, his previously relaxed brows furrowing into a knot again.
He swept the mission scrolls on the table aside, revealing the troop deployment chart underneath, his fingertip heavily poking the "Eastern Reconnaissance" column—Shine's name was circled in red, with a note next to it: "Efficiently completed three deep reconnaissance missions, zero exposure," a comment he had personally written.
Jiraiya rubbed his throbbing temples, and images of his previous collaborations with Uchiha Ninja involuntarily surfaced in his mind: also a reconnaissance mission, Shine, with two Clan Members, only took half a day to ascertain Iwagakure's three defense lines, even intercepting the enemy's cipher frequency;
Other squads either took two days and still missed hidden sentries, or simply alerted the enemy and exposed their whereabouts. The Uchiha's Sharingan's insight, efficient tactical coordination, and that relentless spirit were all the combat power most needed at the front lines.
But now? Shine was gone. He scoured the entire troop roster, but the Jonin he could pick were either guarding Sunagakure on the western front or had just withdrawn from the Kumogakure battlefield to recuperate from injuries. The rest were either inexperienced or ridiculously poor at execution.
He tried to fill in a name in the "Eastern Reconnaissance" column, his pen hovering for a long time before he irritably crossed it out—that guy didn't even notice Iwagakure's new recruits last time; sending him would be suicide...
Advance chapter available on pãtrêon Got1808