The sound of wind and the rustling of shadows filled the air as Kakuzu found himself surrounded by a group of shinobi in an instant.
"To think you'd dare to trespass alone into the Uchiha clan's territory. Are you ready to die?" Uchiha Akira, who had returned, grinned wickedly. He licked his lips with a serpentine motion, his Mangekyō Sharingan spinning in his eyes, radiating a boundless desire for battle. It had been far too long since he'd experienced the thrill of combat, and Kakuzu was now the perfect target.
"A face I've never seen before, appearing here in the Uchiha territory without any clear purpose, exuding faint killing intent. Everything about you screams danger. Do you really think such a flimsy excuse could fool anyone?"
Madara Uchiha stopped his advance, crossing his arms. His imposing figure exuded a crushing aura that made it hard to breathe. Even Kakuzu, a veteran of countless battles, felt the oppressive weight of Madara's presence and didn't dare to relax for a second.
Kakuzu's mind worked like a high-speed machine, analyzing the situation and formulating a plan to deal with his current predicament. Within seconds, he had an answer.
There was only one viable option: escape.
But escaping from Madara Uchiha was no easy feat. Kakuzu's method of retreat wouldn't be a simple one. He planned to "die" under Madara's hand, using it as a perfect cover to disappear without a trace.
"Clan Leader, there's no need for you to dirty your hands. Allow me to use my Sharingan's genjutsu to make him spill the reason he's trespassed on our land," Akira offered eagerly, his Mangekyō Sharingan spinning as he prepared to act. He hadn't been in a real fight for a long time and was itching for action.
However, his enthusiasm was met with a cold rebuke.
"Stand down."
"Clan Leader..." Akira's face twisted in frustration, but before he could protest further, Madara cut him off with icy precision.
"You haven't even awakened the true power of your eyes. What makes you think you're ready for combat? Go back and reflect on your shortcomings."
Madara's words hit Akira hard, leaving him staring at the ground in shame. Just as he began to sulk, a fellow Uchiha nudged him, signaling him to look up.
When Akira glanced back at Madara, his eyes widened in shock.
"To think the Clan Leader would activate his Three Tomoe Sharingan to deal with this guy..."
"This shows the enemy isn't ordinary."
"His power must be considerable. The Clan Leader must be protecting you by not letting you face him."
Hearing these words, Akira began to understand. His gaze toward Kakuzu changed, a flicker of respect now present.
'To force the Clan Leader to use the Three Tomoe Sharingan... Who exactly is this guy?'
Madara's Sharingan spun with deadly precision as he lowered his arms and began walking forward. His sharp gaze tried to trace Kakuzu's chakra flow, but its erratic nature was unreadable, a clear sign that Kakuzu wasn't ordinary.
In those seemingly calm eyes of Kakuzu, Madara recognized something deeply familiar—eyes that had witnessed the carnage of the Warring States period. Kakuzu was undoubtedly a battle-hardened warrior, one who had survived endless bloodshed.
Madara didn't consider Kakuzu his equal but treated him with the respect of a cautious warrior. Activating the Three Tomoe wasn't just a tactical choice, it was a show of respect for the upcoming fight.
Madara quickened his pace. Kakuzu raised his arms defensively, preparing for the inevitable clash.
Then—
Whoosh!
Madara came to an abrupt halt.
Kakuzu's expression didn't waver, but he immediately sensed the presence of someone behind him. The nearby Uchiha clan members took a moment longer to react, turning to see the newcomer with wary expressions.
"You... Who the hell are you?"
"What do you want?"
Ignoring the questioning voices, the newcomer directed his gaze straight at Madara.
"Madara, do you intend to commit murder in the middle of the village?"
Madara's narrowed eyes betrayed a flicker of complexity—killing intent, suppressed rage, and a hint of restraint.
"Tobirama Senju. What brings you here?"
Madara's tone was anything but friendly, dripping with disdain.
"Madara, that's my question for you. What are you doing?" Tobirama retorted, his voice steady and unyielding. A man like Tobirama didn't fear Madara's wrath, he had earned his place through strength and cunning.
Kakuzu turned his head slightly to glance at Tobirama, his gaze silently conveying his thoughts:
Tobirama, you finally used the Flying Thunder God for something good.
Tobirama, unfazed, kept his focus on Madara.
"This man is an intruder, of unknown identity and purpose, in Uchiha territory. As the Clan Leader, shouldn't I investigate?" Madara demanded.
"Unknown identity?" Tobirama's tone turned sharp. "Madara, how long has it been since you last walked the streets of Konoha? This is Kakuzu. He's been in the village for over a year now. He's the owner of the glassworks, a doctor at the medical clinic, and, incidentally, an assistant in my biological research lab."
Tobirama Senju emphasized the words Konoha as he spoke, enunciating them with deliberate weight. To an ordinary listener, it might not have seemed out of the ordinary. However, to Uchiha Madara, the words carried an entirely different undertone. His gaze grew colder, his hostility simmering just beneath the surface.
Yet, this one word—Konoha—managed to quell the urge to strike that had been rising within Madara. Despite everything, those words still held profound significance to him.
Kakuzu, on the other hand, was visibly perplexed as he shot a glance at Tobirama. Konohagakure's biological research facility? It was known that Tobirama oversaw its operations. Beyond the hefty fees Kakuzu had charged them for reinforced glass—profiting handsomely in the process—there didn't seem to be much of a connection.
What assistant? Kakuzu thought, his brow furrowing. A new position in Konoha?
Unable to immediately discern the truth, he settled on a pragmatic stance. Following the principle of "the enemy of my enemy is my friend," Kakuzu was certain of one thing: for now, he and Tobirama shared a common front.
As the tense standoff dragged on, the surrounding crowd grew larger.
Shff.
Shff, shff.
The distinctive sound of ninja footsteps echoed across rooftops and treetops. These were no ordinary shinobi. They wore armor instead of the standard Konoha forehead protectors, and their faces were obscured by unique masks.
Weapons in hand, they remained alert, maintaining a protective perimeter while keeping a close eye on Tobirama. It was clear that they were ready to intervene at a moment's notice.
For those with insider knowledge, the presence of these masked warriors would be unmistakable—they were the newly-formed Anbu.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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