In Konoha Village, there were two prisons.
One was under the jurisdiction of the Uchiha Police Force.
In the name of "administrative efficiency," the village elders—led by the Third Hokage and advised by Danzo—intentionally located the police headquarters and its prison far from Konoha's main districts, effectively isolating the Uchiha clan on the western edge of the village.
Yet even with such restrictions, the high-ranking officials still viewed the Uchiha as a potential threat—especially since they managed their own security, surveillance, and incarceration systems.
To reduce their influence, the elders quietly transferred control of all high-risk criminal management to Anbu, forming a separate facility under the Hokage's direct authority.
Since then—
The Uchiha Police Department's prison only detained petty criminals: drunkards, gamblers, rogue samurai, and low-level shinobi guilty of minor offenses.
There were over two hundred prisoners, mostly ordinary thugs and a few weak Chūnin—rarely any Jōnin-level captives.
For the Uchiha, managing such a place was trivial.
Since its founding, the Uchiha-run prison had remained perfectly disciplined, without a single major escape or internal revolt.
Perhaps because of that flawless record, their vigilance had unconsciously dulled.
That night—
While most of the clan gathered for a confidential council meeting at Naka Shrine, the prison was at its weakest state of guard duty.
In a dark, damp cell, faint snores echoed. Prisoners turned in their sleep, unaware of the quiet movements within.
Suddenly, a thin, inconspicuous man sat up silently. He moved toward the iron bars, glancing toward another cell across the hall.
In that instant, three other men made the same movement.
Their eyes met in the gloom. A brief nod passed between them.
They appeared to be commoners arrested for brawling days ago—but in truth, they were Root operatives, planted under Danzo's orders.
"Do it," one of them whispered.
A flash of chakra ignited under their wrists—micro explosive seals.
Moments later—
Boom!
A massive explosion shattered the silence. Flames and smoke rolled through the corridors as the prison gates collapsed inward. Over two hundred prisoners surged out, shouting and scrambling in chaos.
"Stop them!"
A dozen Uchiha guards rushed from the inner compound, trying to subdue the convicts—but they were too few.
Even for elite shinobi, it was impossible to control such a mob.
The Root agents blended in perfectly, hurling fire and wind-style ninjutsu while fanning the flames of riot.
"All the Uchiha are at their clan meeting—now's our chance! Burn this place!"
"Get revenge on the Uchiha dogs who've kept us locked up!"
Roars echoed as fireballs exploded against the outer walls. The night sky above the Police Department turned crimson.
Under cover of confusion, the Root operatives slipped away—mission accomplished.
Danzo's command was clear: cause chaos, implicate Uchiha, and leave no trace.
Their goal was to fuel the flames of distrust between Uchiha and the village.
Meanwhile, in the medical ward inside the Police Building—
Uchiha Shisui lay motionless on a cot. Bandages wrapped tightly around his eyes, faint blood seeping through the cloth.
For someone born of Uchiha blood, losing the Sharingan was worse than death.
Beside him sat Itachi, who refused to rest.
"Go to sleep, Itachi," Shisui said weakly, forcing a smile. "I'll be fine."
"I'm not tired," Itachi answered, his voice firm, eyes cold and sharp.
Then—
Boom!
A thunderous explosion shook the building. Screams echoed through the corridors, followed by the sounds of battle outside.
"What happened?" Shisui asked, his expression tense.
"I'll find out."
Itachi moved toward the window—and froze.
A kunai smashed through the glass, spinning straight toward him. His reflexes snapped instantly; his hand shot out, catching the weapon midair.
"It's the prison," he muttered. "They're attacking."
Before Shisui could respond, Itachi leapt out into the courtyard.
Below, Uchiha Tiehō, one of the prison guards, was commanding a small squad, clashing with rioters.
"Kill that brat!" a prisoner yelled, charging at Itachi.
Sharingan flared open—three tomoe gleaming.
A flurry of strikes followed; two punches, one kick, and the attackers were down before they could blink.
Then, shuriken whizzed from the shadows. Itachi parried them effortlessly, readying a counter—
But before he could strike, a blur appeared behind the enemy.
A swift chop to the neck dropped the attacker.
It was Shisui.
"Itachi, why did you leave him alone?" Itachi demanded, shocked.
Shisui smiled faintly. "Eyes or no eyes, I'm still a shinobi. Go tell the Patriarch—leave this to me."
His hands weaved through seals with practiced speed. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
In an instant, a dozen illusionary clones of Shisui surged forward, overwhelming the convicts.
Even without his eyes, his mastery of the Body Flicker Technique and sensory perception made him deadly.
"It's Shisui of the Body Flicker!" one prisoner screamed, terrified.
The crowd hesitated. Even blind, his reputation crushed their will to fight.
Seizing the chance, Itachi broke through the line and sprinted toward Naka Shrine.
Inside the Shrine's underground chamber—
Elders and elite Uchiha were deep in argument.
"The higher-ups spread these lies deliberately! They've turned the whole village against us!"
"If this continues, even if we stay loyal, they'll force us into rebellion!"
"The same trick they used on Hatake Sakumo—public disgrace and isolation!"
The discussion burned with fury.
Then—
Bang!
The door burst open.
"Itachi!" someone called out. "What's going on?"
Breathing hard, Itachi shouted, "There's been a riot in the prison! All prisoners have escaped!"
A heavy silence fell.
Fugaku's face darkened. "Return immediately. Protect the compound!"
Without delay, the council scattered.
Meanwhile—
At the gym's alley, Samui woke abruptly from sleep.
From her window, she could see orange flames rising from the direction of the Uchiha district.
"What's happening?" she murmured, hastily pulling on her vest and shorts.
Moments later—
Knock knock.
She rapped on the curator's door, voice trembling. "Curator, something's wrong! The Police Department is burning—there's a riot!"
For a few seconds, silence.
Then came a calm, deep voice from within.
"…It's none of our concern. Go back to sleep."
The tone was so composed, so cold—it silenced her.
Outside, the fire roared brighter.
Inside, Uchiha Duan sat in stillness, eyes half-closed. His expression was unreadable—yet beneath it flickered the faintest trace of anticipation.
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