Chapter 80 — "I Love Watching Girls Fight!"
Without hesitation, Uchiha Yujiro activated his Sharingan.
Before him, two beautiful kunoichi were locked in fierce combat—each graceful and deadly, their movements a blur of color and chakra.
One had crimson hair and turquoise eyes, her figure both elegant and provocative. Her lips were soft pink, her nails painted dark blue, and the tight indigo dress that clung to her half-bare shoulders and curves only amplified her dangerous allure.
She was none other than Terumi Mei, the future Fifth Mizukage—known across the ninja world as the Queen of All MILFs and the undisputed leader of Kiri's "Marry-Me" faction.
A user of both Lava Release and Boil Release, she was already a powerhouse, even if her youth meant she hadn't yet reached her peak. Ordinary jōnin didn't stand a chance against her.
Her opponent was no less striking.
Tall, athletic, and fiercely confident, she tied her long deep-green hair into a loose braid streaked with stylish brown highlights. Compared to Mei's sultry aesthetic, she exuded a sharper, more soldierly charm.
Her attire was built for combat—light and revealing for maximum mobility.
Bare shoulders, toned thighs, and an open back that shimmered with sweat under the misty light.
Her lean muscles flexed as she moved, and the bandages wrapped tightly around her waist only drew more attention to her chest's perfect shape.
This warrior was Pakura of Sunagakure, the Hero of the Desert, wielder of the deadly Scorch Release—a woman both revered and betrayed by her own village.
Yujiro recognized the scene instantly.
So this is that moment…
The tragic chapter when Pakura was sold out by her own people—
used as a political bargaining chip between Suna and Kiri.
He hadn't expected to stumble across this part of history in person.
Normally, he wouldn't have interfered.
Sure, he remembered her story from the "canon,"
but in a world where countless shinobi died every day,
not even a beautiful woman's death was enough to move him.
But this?
This was happening in front of him.
And that was another story.
"Those Kiri bastards… killing people on our turf?"
"As the beloved brother and best friend of the Fourth Hokage," Yujiro growled,
"I can't let that slide!"
He stepped forward with a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Well, well," he drawled. "I love watching girls fight."
Pakura froze mid-stance.
"...What?"
Mei blinked, startled.
"You—Konoha shinobi?"
Then her eyes widened in recognition.
"Wait—the Flame Claw of Konoha?!"
Unlike Pakura, who didn't recognize him beyond the forehead protector,
Terumi Mei knew that name.
During the Third Great Ninja War, the Uchiha Clan had been assigned to the Kiri front,
where a young Yujiro, long before he'd awakened his "system,"
had carved a bloody legend among the Mist shinobi.
His speed and swordsmanship had earned him a fearsome moniker—
"Konoha's Flame Claw."
As a new-generation kunoichi of Kirigakure, Mei had never met him personally,
but she'd heard plenty about him.
And she remembered his wanted poster.
Back then, Mei was still young—
not yet the frustrated, love-starved woman she'd later become—
but her personality was already taking shape.
And seeing this absurdly handsome man,
his Sharingan glowing, his posture confident,
those 32 points of sheer Charm radiating off him—
well, it was safe to say her heart skipped a beat.
Maybe she'd even confiscated his wanted notice once upon a time,
tucked it away under the guise of "studying enemy profiles,"
and pulled it out at night to, uh… "reflect deeply."
So when she saw him in person now, alive and smirking,
she couldn't help but flinch with a jolt of guilty panic.
Of course, she recovered quickly.
Mei might've had her moments of weakness,
but she was still a battle-hardened Mist kunoichi—
raised in the bloody tradition of the Village Hidden in the Mist.
And if someone stood in her way, even if that someone was a man whose photo once kept her company—
She would kill him without hesitation.
Still, she decided to try words before violence.
"Listen, Flame Claw," Mei said sharply. "We're not here to pick a fight with Konoha.
Whatever's happening here has nothing to do with you. Stay out of it."
Unfortunately for her, the Mist's intelligence network hadn't caught up.
She didn't know that the man standing before her wasn't just the "Flame Claw"—
he was now a top-tier monster who had personally slain Shimura Danzō.
Word of that event had reached the Mist, yes—
but they'd assumed Danzō was already half-dead from being hunted for days.
Most thought it was just luck, not strength, that sealed his fate.
Even Mei herself figured she could take Yujiro in a fair fight.
Her real fear was him teaming up with Pakura before the Mist reinforcements arrived.
That would spell disaster.
If she could talk him down, make him walk away peacefully—
that would be the best outcome.
Meanwhile, Pakura still had no idea what was really going on.
She thought she was here on a secret mission—an arranged meeting with the Mist.
She had no clue that her own village had already betrayed her.
The poison running through her veins and the cuts on her body
were the first signs that something was very, very wrong.
Even weakened to half her full power,
she'd already annihilated most of her attackers.
When Yujiro arrived, he counted more than a dozen corpses on the ground—
their bodies dried out and mummified.
All the water in their flesh had been evaporated by her Scorch Release: Overheated Steam,
leaving them shriveled like burnt parchment.
It was her only signature move,
but its efficiency was horrifying.
Now that, Yujiro thought with admiration,
is what I call a woman who knows how to drain a man dry.
He grinned to himself.
"Alright then," he whispered, eyes gleaming red.
"Let's see where this goes…"
First betrayed by her supposed allies, and now suddenly interrupted by Konoha, the situation was beyond confusing.
Pakura's caution was entirely justified.
Sure, the red-haired woman across from her—Terumi Mei—was an obvious enemy, but what about this newcomer?
They looked like they were opposing each other, but who could say for sure?
Maybe this was all just a setup.
Maybe this "Uchiha Yujiro" was actually a Mist imposter using Transformation Jutsu to confuse her.
Trust no one.
That was the first rule of surviving as a shinobi.
Watching the suspicion flicker in her eyes, Yujiro sighed inwardly.
"Man… I just wanted to play the hero and save the damsel," he muttered.
"But the beautiful sister doesn't seem very convinced…"
Well, that wasn't entirely unexpected.
After all, "Uchiha" and "justice" weren't exactly synonymous in the shinobi world.
Still—he wasn't out of options.
Plan A: heroic rescue.
Plan B: knock her unconscious before she does anything stupid.
He smiled faintly and took a step forward.
"Caution is good," he said, voice low and calm. "But I don't like the way you're looking at me."
Pakura's brows furrowed.
"What?"
"So…" Yujiro's Sharingan spun to life.
"Why don't you take a nap? When you wake up, everything will be fine."
Her pupils shrank instantly.
"—!"
That feeling.
That suffocating, crushing pressure—
She knew it well.
He was about to attack.
Pakura actually laughed, a harsh, incredulous sound.
"You've got to be kidding me. You think you can just—"
Her chakra flared around her, hot and dry as desert wind.
"I'm Pakura of the Scorch Release! You think I'm scared of some random Uchiha—?!"
And then she froze.
"—What the hell?!"
In the next heartbeat, Yujiro moved.
Lightning flashed.
Blades screamed.
He activated Lightning Chakra Mode—the Raikage's signature technique,
electricity racing across his skin like blue fire.
At the same time, he drew his dual blades—
one radiating blinding white lightning, the other burning with searing flame.
And just for fun, he opened the First Gate of the Eight Inner Gates.
A hurricane of chakra exploded outward, shredding the mist around him into nothingness.
Pakura's face went pale.
"H–how?!"
She couldn't believe what she was seeing.
The Lightning Armor was a secret technique of Kumogakure—
how did a Konoha Uchiha know it?
And those swords—
each infused with a different elemental chakra, perfectly balanced in his hands.
Lightning and fire, swirling together like molten steel.
And that pressure—
that impossible surge of power, as if his very body had broken through its limits in an instant.
She felt every instinct in her scream:
Too late.
Yujiro grinned, flashing that classic Uchiha smile—
the kind that was 50% charm and 50% pure menace.
"Alright, Pakura-nee," he said, voice electric with excitement.
"Brace yourself—
because here I come!"
The air cracked.
Thunder roared.
Steel flashed like a comet streaking across the swamp.
And then—
Uchiha Yujiro charged.
A streak of lightning and fire,
a beautiful disaster tearing straight toward the two most dangerous women in the marsh.