But a new problem soon arose—Konoha was no longer in a time of peace.
Although the Village still housed several Kage-level experts, most of them were scattered across distant battlefields.
Jiraiya and Tsunade, the renowned Sannin, were both away.
Hatake Sakumo, the White Fang of Konoha, and Minato Namikaze, the Yellow Flash, were also fighting outside the Village.
Within Konoha itself, the only remaining Kage-level powerhouses seemed to be Orochimaru, who had been recently recalled, and Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage.
Orochimaru, needless to say, was buried in his endless experiments, likely unaware that such a dangerous person had even appeared in Konoha.
As for Hiruzen Sarutobi—he had long since lost the brilliance of his younger years.
Since ascending to the Hokage's seat, he had seldom made any distinguished achievements in battle.
While the Kage of other Villages fought on the front lines for their people, Hiruzen rarely stepped beyond the walls of the Hokage Building.
To put it nicely, one could call this the calm composure of a great general—strategizing from a thousand miles away.
But to put it bluntly, wasn't it simply a fear of death?
After all, it was hardly rare for a Kage to die on the battlefield.
In short, unless something truly extraordinary happened, Hiruzen Sarutobi would never take action personally.
So the question arose:
Should the Uchiha Clan step forward to deal with this new threat?
Or should they stand aside, letting this dangerous man roam freely—sharing the risk with the rest of Konoha?
Such thoughts quietly circulated in the hearts of every Uchiha elder present.
They were arrogant—yes—but they were not fools.
Each one of them had survived countless storms to reach their current positions. The experiences they carried were far beyond what the not-yet-adult Shisui could imagine.
Naturally, they lacked Shisui's innocence and passion.
When facing a truly formidable opponent, even the proud Uchiha would show proper respect.
And when the potential losses exceeded their expectations, they would not hesitate to avoid direct conflict.
A heavy silence gradually filled the meeting hall.
Shisui could clearly hear the elders' quiet, steadying breaths as tension began to ease.
He blinked in confusion.
Hadn't he just given them detailed information about the enemy?
Now was the time for a heated discussion—plans, strategies, anything about how to eliminate this threat.
So why… had everyone suddenly fallen silent?
The young Shisui did not yet understand the broader perspective.
He wasn't used to thinking from others' points of view.
In his heart, both the Village and the Clan were sacred.
If an enemy appeared who might harm the Village, then of course the Uchiha should take action.
That, to him, was the duty of those entrusted with Konoha's safety.
That was what it meant to be Uchiha.
But he hadn't considered the immense price the clan would pay in such a pursuit.
At that moment, the Uchiha Clan couldn't afford unnecessary losses.
If they weakened—even slightly—they would lose their standing as Konoha's largest and most powerful clan.
And once that happened, the Village elders would have the perfect opportunity to tighten their grip.
Even now, those Uchiha elders could already feel the cold malice radiating from the Third Hokage and his council.
It was becoming clearer each day.
This was no ordinary matter.
How they chose to act could very well determine the future of the entire Uchiha Clan.
Fugaku Uchiha, the clan head, understood this better than anyone.
Deep down, he too wanted to protect the Village and its people—just like Shisui.
But for the sake of the clan's survival, he had no choice but to suppress that idealism.
After a long silence, Fugaku finally exhaled and stepped forward.
He placed a firm hand on Shisui's shoulder and said calmly,
"Alright, Shisui. We understand the situation.
Leave the rest to us. Your job now is to recover and regain your strength."
And with that, he turned and left the room.
One by one, the other elders exchanged quiet glances before following their leader out.
Shisui stood there, frozen, watching them leave.
For a moment, he didn't understand what had just happened.
But when he realized he was now alone, the truth sank in like ice.
"Clan Head Fugaku… is he giving up?
Doesn't he understand how dangerous this enemy is to the Village?"
His thoughts spiraled, anger and disbelief clashing within him.
"Our Uchiha Clan is the main force of Konoha's Military Police—responsible for the Village's safety!
How can we turn away from such a threat?
How can we face Hokage-sama, or the trust of the villagers, if we act so cowardly?
When… when did my Uchiha Clan become like this?"
Only Shisui's anguished voice echoed through the empty chamber.
He clenched his fists tightly, his heart burning with frustration and sorrow.
He closed his eyes, and from the depths of his despair, dark emotions surged upward, crashing violently against his soul.
Two crimson lines of blood tears slipped down his cheeks.
When he opened his eyes again, the familiar three tomoe were gone—
replaced by a swirling, eerie pattern of power.
The forbidden might of the Uchiha Clan—
the Mangekyō Sharingan—
had awakened.
Shisui felt it instantly.
His vision sharpened, the world around him clearer, brighter, heavier.
A rush of energy coursed through his veins.
He could sense it—the pupil power, his dōryoku, surging to twice its previous strength.
Even the chakra flowing within him had grown by half again.
He knew without question:
he had awakened the legendary power of his bloodline.
His grandfather, Uchiha Kagami, had once been an elder of the clan—a man who understood many of the secrets surrounding the Sharingan.
As Kagami's only grandson, Shisui had inherited fragments of that ancient knowledge.
Now, feeling this overwhelming power for himself, Shisui finally understood.
If a three-tomoe Sharingan could allow an Uchiha to reach the level of a Jōnin,
then the Mangekyō was enough to make one stand among Kage.
He had doubted those stories before.
Now, there was no doubt left in his mind.
A mix of emotions churned inside him—shock, awe, and a dangerous thrill.
"Why… why does no one understand me?
When did everyone become so afraid?"
His voice trembled with fury.
"This isn't the Uchiha Clan I know!
Maybe this power was given to me so that I can change everything.
The enemies of the Uchiha…
the enemies of Konoha…
I'll destroy them all with this power!"
In that instant, the young man's conviction solidified into something sharp—unyielding.
Shisui's thoughts turned to the masked man—Riku.
His lips curved into a cold, confident smile.
"The next time we meet," he whispered,
"it will be your death day."
In the dim light, only Shisui's low laughter remained.
But his once gentle expression had twisted into something different—
a mix of pride and mad determination.
Great power brings confidence—sometimes, too much of it.
And even a prodigy like Uchiha Shisui was not immune to the arrogance born from strength.
Without realizing it, he had taken a step onto a path from which there was no easy return.
Perhaps this was the true price of power.
Unseen by anyone, unrecorded in any scroll, the awakening of Shisui's Mangekyō Sharingan quietly changed the fate of the Uchiha Clan.
And the catalyst of it all—
the one who had unknowingly pushed Shisui over the edge—
was Riku, hidden behind his false identity.
At that moment, Riku, completely unaware of the storm he had set in motion, was calmly training at home.
He was focused, steady, and precise, methodically building his skills one repetition at a time.
Every swing, every movement, was calculated.
He followed his training plan with near mechanical discipline, pushing himself just to the limit—no more, no less.
To him, progress was not about talent or luck; it was about grinding experience—slowly, patiently, until mastery was inevitable.
After completing another intense round of exercises, Riku finally paused, wiping away the fine beads of sweat that had gathered across his face.
He didn't stop, though.
Instead, he took a breath and prepared to move on to the next technique.
Just as he steadied himself, a sudden tickle ran through his nose.
"Ah—achoo!"
He sneezed once.
Then again.
And again.
Rubbing his face, he muttered with mild irritation,
"Huh? Who's talking about me at this hour? Don't they sleep at night?"
He chuckled to himself, shaking his head before getting back to work—
completely unaware that far away, a pair of crimson eyes had just opened in the darkness,
their gaze burning with fury and fate.
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