c142: Damn Uchiha!
At four o'clock in the afternoon, halfway up the snowy mountainside near Konoha's camp, inside the deputy commander's tent
A young shinobi with a forgettable face, clad in a green flak vest and tight blue undershirt, forehead protector tied neatly, approached the guards.
"Stop there. State your business," one chūnin barked.
"I have an urgent report for the deputy commander," the youth said politely, bowing slightly.
"Wait here."
Moments later, the guard returned. "Go in."
"Thank you."
The youth entered, bowing deeply. "I greet the deputy commander."
Uchiha Gen glanced up from the pile of reports before him. His tone was calm, unreadable. "What is it?"
"Konoha's special envoy requests to meet you," the youth said, head lowered.
Gen's brows twitched. Special envoy? What message couldn't be delivered through Orochimaru-sensei?
"And where is Orochimaru?"
"I wasn't told. My only task was to deliver this."
Gen's eyes narrowed. Curious. If a envoy exists for both of us, fine. But if they bypass Orochimaru entirely, something is wrong. Orochimaru is still Sarutobi Hiruzen's student. Even after uncovering his human experiments, the Third hesitated to execute him in the manga. Sentiment, politics, connection, it all binds them. So why send orders secretly to me, the deputy?
Unless… this was no envoy.
"Where?" Gen asked.
"Red Moon Lake. Nine o'clock tonight."
"…I'm busy. My shadow clone will attend," Gen said casually.
The youth stiffened. "Sir, that would be… disrespectful. The envoy was clear your presence is required."
Gen smirked faintly. "Even if it's an ANBU with the Hokage's seal? Uchiha do not bow to mere messengers. If Orochimaru's student stands with me, what can a single envoy do?"
The youth's polite mask cracked, voice hardening. "This isn't a request. Hokage-sama's orders must be delivered to you in person. If you refuse, I'll report your defiance directly."
Gen's Sharingan flickered behind his calm expression. Tch. Too forceful. An actual ANBU would never speak so bluntly to a commanding officer. You slipped, White Zetsu.
Outwardly, his face darkened, feigning suppressed rage. "Fine. Dismissed."
The youth bowed stiffly and departed.
The moment the tent flap closed, Gen opened his soul perception. Instantly, an aura unlike any human shinobi appeared in his awareness alien, fungal, pulsating.
He smirked. So, it's true. White Zetsu. And behind it all… Obito.
His mind raced. Obito's Kamui makes him nearly unkillable. Hashirama cells reinforce his Mangekyō, so genjutsu won't bind him long. He's endured controlling Yagura and the Three-Tails for years his willpower is monstrous. If Black Zetsu assists, my illusions mean nothing. If I stake everything on spiritual possession, failure would crush my soul. Risk outweighs gain. Better to force him to retreat… and if by chance he falls, that's a bonus.
Decision made, he returned to his documents, utterly calm.
…
8:40 p.m.
A lone figure slipped from Konoha's camp, racing northwest. The moon was full, snow shimmering under its light. Gen's black windbreaker trailed silver streaks, his steps whispering against the frost.
At 8:59, he arrived at Red Moon Lake. The crescent-shaped waters lay frozen, glowing faintly under the moonlight. A lone ANBU figure stood on the ice, white mask striped with blue.
"You're punctual," the ANBU said.
"I never arrive late," Gen replied with a smile.
Inside, White Zetsu cursed. Damn Uchiha, do you think I praised you?
"Let's finish quickly," Zetsu muttered. He pulled a scroll from his pouch, left hand curling around a kunai hidden from view.
Gen stepped closer, hand outstretched. The instant he touched the scroll Zetsu struck, kunai darting for his heart.
But Gen's right hand snapped up, crushing Zetsu's wrist. His eyes glowed scarlet, three tomoe spinning. Illusion surged forth Zetsu's body stiffened, caught in genjutsu.
The scroll tumbled from limp fingers. Gen's left hand, sheathed in chakra, speared for Zetsu's throat but space warped behind him.
A black-robed figure emerged, fan in hand. Uchiha Obito.
The Uchiha war fan crashed down.
Boom!
Gen's body exploded in fire and shockwaves, ripping cracks through the ice. Zetsu was flung away, revealing his pale true form.
Obito shielded himself behind the fan, unscathed. His masked gaze narrowed. "A shadow clone, enhanced with extra chakra? Hmph. Pathetic."
As smoke cleared, two more figures emerged from the treeline.
The first: Uchiha Gen himself, stepping forward calmly, cloak fluttering.
The second: pale skin, golden eyes, tongue flickering at the lips Orochimaru.
Obito's eye narrowed. So, the snake comes too. Complicates things. But I've spent too much to stop now.
"How did you see through it?" Obito asked coldly.
Gen tilted his head, smirking. "You really want to know?"
Obito hesitated, then gave a small nod.
Gen's smile widened. "I won't tell you. Why would I make myself… predictable?"
Obito's silence stretched. The words weren't wrong yet still, he felt… insulted.
"Damn Uchiha," he muttered, Sharingan flaring to Mangekyō.
The lake froze in tension, the clash of Uchiha bloodlines about to ignite.
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