At the Leaf Village.
Underground, the descent into the belly of the Hidden Leaf was a journey from light into shadow. Alex walked with a measured, confident stride, passing through the hidden entrance located behind a nondescript waterfall in the training grounds.
This was the Foundation. Root. The dark underbelly of the village that Danzo Shimura had built to uphold the tree. Ever since Margaret defeated him, things here have fallen apart.
That was until Alex formed an idea for it.
He stopped at the first checkpoint. An ANBU operative wearing a porcelain cat mask stepped out of the shadows with a kodachi drawn.
Alex didn't flinch; he simply raised his hand, channeling a specific frequency of chakra into the seal on the wall. The heavy iron door groaned as the locking mechanism tumbled open with a series of metallic clanks.
"Clear," the operative muttered, sheathing the blade and stepping back into the gloom.
Alex continued inward.
The facility was massive, like a labyrinth of tunnels, training halls, and archives that extended deep beneath the village crust. It still held the ghost of Danzo's influence—the sterile, militaristic layout, the ominous silence.
Deeper down, however, was not the case. The darkness was now regulated.
After getting permission from the elders, the Leaf had raided everything. They had purged the experimentation labs, burned the records on illegal assassinations, and destroyed artifacts deemed too volatile for existence.
The elders had almost decided to collapse the entire structure, to bury the shame of Root forever. But Alex had intervened.
Some time ago, he had stood before the council, arguing with the cold logic that they respected.
"Destroying Root removes the darkness, but it also blinds us to it," he had said at the moment. "We need a covert operations division. Combine Root's infrastructure with the ANBU's loyalty. And create a specialized unit for threats that go beyond the standard mission parameters."
They had agreed. But they had also played their own hand.
Alex had desired the leadership upon seeing himself as the perfect candidate—impartial, knowledgeable, and ruthless when necessary. But Minato and Homura had ruled against him.
"Inexperience," they cited. "Age," they claimed.
As such, they instated Hiruzen Sarutobi, which the latter did not refuse. It was, after all, Hiruzen's responsibility to oversee all of Danzo's heinous acts.
Alex had taken the loss with a smile, but internally, he had adjusted his board. If he couldn't be the king of Root, he would at least pick its knight.
"I believe Yamato, who inherited the first Hokage's legendary wood style, should act as the head ninja under you, lord Third."
Hiruzen had agreed.
No one questioned how Alex even knew about Yamato's existence, having already proven his knowledge as an exceptional shinobi with a Kage's knowledge.
As such, Yamato was now the operational leader of the new Root. And Alex? He was a consultant. That was enough for him to act as a high-ranking specialist with clearance to roam the halls.
In the present time, he navigated the twisting corridors until he reached the central break room. It was a utilitarian space filled with concrete walls softened only by a few wooden tables and a refrigerator.
Inside, Yamato looked like he was drowning.
The wood style user sat at a large table, but the surface was invisible. It was buried under mountains of small, black booklets. Boxes were stacked high around him, teetering precariously.
"They just keep coming," Alex laughed, leaning against the doorframe.
Yamato looked up with bloodshot eyes. He rubbed his face, smearing ink on his cheek. "Alex. Thank goodness. I thought you were another courier."
He gestured helplessly at the chaos. They were Bingo Books from every nation, every collection office, and every mercenary guild.
"The Arthur effect," Alex noted, walking over.
"It's a nightmare," Yamato sighed. "After the feudal lords released the briefing, the data entry alone crippled the administrative division. We have to cross-reference every name, face, and jutsu."
These books, as everyone knew, were the lifeblood of the underworld. They tracked rogue ninjas and high-value targets. Usually, a Bingo Book update meant adding one or two S-rank criminals a year.
Today, they were adding an army.
"I suppose you might need my help?" Alex smiled, pulling up a chair.
"Please!" Yamato begged. "If I have to read one more report about a zombie Uchiha, I'm going to use it to seal myself in a box."
Alex aided Yamato by scanning the data blocks. He was quite impressed at the bounty numbers. The inflation was staggering, to say the least.
Name: Fugaku Uchiha.
Status: Reanimated / Rogue.
Bounty: 65,000,000 Ryo.
Alex picked up another book.
Name: Ashina Uzumaki.
Status: Reanimated / Rogue.
Bounty: 70,000,000 Ryo.
"Shisui Uchiha's up there too," he murmured, checking a specialized ANBU list. "Sixty million. To think the Stone Village put his bounty that high."
Then there were the others. Names Alex had never heard of in the canon, characters that Arthur had likely pulled from the deep lore or raised from obscure graves.
Name: Kaiyo.
Status: Reanimated.
Bounty: 22,000,000 Ryo.
Name: Shigeru Uzumaki.
Status: Reanimated.
Bounty: 25,000,000 Ryo.
Name: Raizumi Uchiha.
Status: Reanimated.
Bounty: 18,000,000 Ryo.
"He flooded the market," Alex commented, tossing a book into the 'Verified' box.
"That's what happens when a village is formed without telling anyone," Yamato sighed.
The two continued to work for hours as the room was filled with the shuffling of papers and the scratching of quills. By the time the stacks were manageable, the lights in the hallway had brightened, signifying evening.
"Thanks for the help, Alex," Yamato sighed, stretching his arms until his back cracked. "I don't know what I would've done without you. Probably drowned in paper."
"No problem, Yamato-sensei," Alex politely said. "It's good to know who Arthur revived out there."
Yamato stood up, gathering a stack of finalized reports. "I'll give you a break for the evening until tonight's meeting with lord Third. We'll be discussing the surveillance grid for the upcoming Chūnin Exams."
"Understood, sir."
Yamato soon walked out, letting the door click shut behind him.
Alex was now left alone in the break room. The silence settled over him instantly as he sat at the now-empty table.
While staring at the grain, something registered in his thoughts.
He was bored.
The feeling was a deep, existential ennui that gnawed at his bones. He had become the irrefutable best Hyūga in history, he had saved the village, he had helped secure the base, and he was a war hero that even he hadn't expected to become so early.
Yet all this was done before even part two of the story could commence. Where was the tension? Where was the fun he craved?
He tapped his finger against the table. Tap. Tap. Tap.
'Perhaps I should release him now…' The seductive thought drifted through his mind. If Alex went to the vault, cracked the seal, and let Arthur out, things indeed would be fun again. But he shook his head, dismissing the impulse. 'No, I'm not strong enough yet.'
Alex had felt the residue of Arthur's power during their last encounter. Arthur himself was on a level that even Alex, with his Tenseigan and his meta-knowledge, couldn't fully dissect; he wasn't sure how Arthur got so strong so quickly, but he knew he had to figure something out.
What perplexed him more was not just the level of strength but the sheer perfect board Arthur had set up: Multiple Kekkei Genkai that exceeded Jada's Sharingan, an abundance of chakra that challenged Williams', a mind that matched Alice's telekinesis, a custom Sage Mode far superior to Margaret's, Black Lightning and a taijutsu skill better than Jasper's Purple Lightning and Eight Gates, and lastly, an unyielding spirit that challenged Alex's.
Arthur was by no means someone to look down upon.
'At this rate,' Alex thought, 'if I don't figure out a way to do the same, I'll never reach that level. And if I don't reach that level, the story might end faster than I expected…'
But what did he expect? Six otherworldly beings entered the ninja world with foreknowledge. It only made sense why things were progressing so quickly. The plot was accelerating because they were pushing it.
Had it not been for Arthur's various interventions, both from the shadows and in the light, the ninja world would have already been at peace by now.
Orochimaru would have been sent to Blood Prison, Sasuke would have never left the village and forgiven his older brother, Obito and Nagato would have converted upon discovering the truth, Zetsu would have been killed, and neither Madara nor Kaguya would have been resurrected—thus preventing a Fourth War.
The shinobi world was too easy to fix.
Alex sighed inside. Arthur was the only one who was making things fun. Arthur was the chaos variable. Now Alex and the others were going to have to deal with what they believed to be the only thing standing in their way: the Akatsuki.
Jasper was already placed to infiltrate them, Jada was wandering while keeping an eye out for them, Alice was helping form ties with the Sand Village, Margaret was focusing on getting stronger, and William was still with the main character.
To Alex, the Akatsuki was a known quantity. He had clearly watched the anime, knowing the secret behind Nagato's Rinnegan and Obito's trauma. Because of all that, he had long ago thought of dozens of ways to stop them—be it face-to-face or in physical combat.
It all felt like doing homework.
Alex stretched, his joints popping. He looked at the opposite side of the table. The chair there was empty.
He wanted someone like Arthur to play this long game of chess with. Someone he couldn't read. Someone whose character sheet wasn't available on a wiki. The others—William with his earnest gaming logic, Margaret with her fanfiction dreams—were interesting, but they weren't challenging.
They were predictable. Arthur was the only one.
Alex stared at the empty space on the table. In his thoughts, a chessboard materialized. The black and white squares were pristine. His pieces—the Knight (Jasper), the Bishop (Jada), and the Rook (Yamato)—were arranged perfectly.
But they refused to move.
"Check," Alex whispered to the empty room.
There was no response. The game was stalled because there was no player to go against. This made him utterly bored. It made him feel like a deity in an empty universe with nothing more to do than wait.
Little did he know, the chair wasn't empty.
There was a player sitting right across from him. He was leaning forward with his elbow resting on the table, watching Alex with eyes that burned with a dull, crimson light. He wasn't trapped in an orb like everyone believed; he was right here, in the heart of the enemy's stronghold, watching the man who thought he had won.
That player was none other than Arthur Bennett.