Of course, Uchiha Souji was not stupid enough to even think about killing Moonlight Hayate.
Hayate was not only a Jōnin—he was also one of Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi's personal guards, someone deeply connected to the Hokage faction.
If Hayate died even by accident, the entire village would flip upside down.
And Souji, who had no political power, no strength, and no allies except his clan, would never escape suspicion.
He wasn't suicidal.
So killing Hayate was impossible.
But refusing him outright was also impossible.
Souji closed his eyes for a brief moment, thinking rapidly.
He could never sell the sword.
But rejecting Hayate directly would embarrass Fugaku.
And Souji could tell from Fugaku's expression that the patriarch genuinely wanted to make this deal happen.
The price Hayate was offering was already generous.
Even if the Uchiha clan didn't gain much from it, having a Jōnin show mild goodwill toward them was valuable.
Right now, the Uchiha clan's situation in Konoha was extremely awkward.
Any neutral ally was better than none.
If helping Hayate meant earning even a slightly favorable attitude from a Hokage-leaning Jōnin, that was worth something politically.
The clan didn't need Hayate to fight for them or take a side—
just showing gentleness in some future political situation could matter.
Especially when the price was "just a sword."
Even if it was a finely crafted blade from the Land of Craftsmen, it wasn't worth a fortune.
Just a few missions.
But Souji couldn't sell the demon sword, not even to help Fugaku.
So he needed a legitimate excuse.
A believable reason.
A graceful way out that wouldn't insult Hayate or inconvenience Fugaku.
Troublesome…
Souji sighed inwardly, then took a slow breath.
He reached to his waist and carefully drew out his blade—the Third Generation Demon Sword.
Then he knelt down on the tatami, placing the sheathed blade before him.
His movements were slow, deliberate, and elegant.
To the others in the room, it looked like the disciplined posture of a young samurai.
Fugaku and the others watched quietly, curious to see what Souji was planning.
But inside Souji's mind, the demon sword was screaming nonstop.
"Look! Look, brat!" the sword spirit shouted. "THIS is someone who truly deserves me! Why do you keep me swinging at empty air all day?!"
"Do you even understand a demon sword's worth? You useless lump! Just sell me already!"
The sword's excitement was overwhelming.
"I can sense it! That man is sick—weak—perfect!
Let me go to him, slice him once, twice, maybe kill him accidentally, then I'll come back to you!
You get money, I get blood—it's a win-win!"
It was horrifying how cheerful the sword sounded while planning someone's murder.
Clearly, the demon sword had NO emotional loyalty to Souji.
He was simply… boring to it.
Souji ignored the spirit's pleas and instead ran his hand gently along the blade, as if stroking the cheek of a beloved partner.
Then he finally spoke aloud:
"This sword is called the Third Generation Demon Blade. Senior Hayate should have noticed its nature."
The atmosphere froze.
Fugaku frowned deeply.
He turned toward Hayate in surprise.
A demon sword?
A Jōnin tried to buy a demon sword?
Fugaku's opinion of Hayate instantly dropped.
I didn't expect someone who looks honest to pull tricks like this.
Fugaku snorted.
Hatake Kakashi, standing beside him, scratched his head awkwardly.
Hayate himself flushed with embarrassment.
At first, he only wanted the sword because it felt powerful when he saw Souji using it.
He didn't know it was demonic.
But the more Souji praised it, the more Hayate wanted it.
He clenched his fists.
"Even if it's dangerous… a powerful sword is worth it," he muttered.
Souji nodded slightly.
"So you understand. Demon swords bring disaster to their owners. They devour will, they curse, they harm…"
He raised the sword slowly, unsheathing it completely.
A sharp metallic whisper echoed through the room.
Cold light flashed—so bright that it seemed to lower the temperature of the entire space.
Hayate's breath caught.
Fugaku and Kakashi exchanged a glance.
Even the sword spirit gasped inside Souji's mind.
"Hey—HEY! Why are you stripping me naked in front of everyone?!"
Souji ignored it and continued:
"If a demon sword brings disaster, then let it decide its owner."
Hayate blinked.
"What…?"
Souji looked straight at him.
"I won't decide. The sword will."
A murmur went around the room.
Even Fugaku leaned forward slightly.
The sword spirit stiffened.
"What are you doing? Don't you dare embarrass me!"
Souji calmly placed the exposed blade upright before him.
"Senior Hayate," Souji said softly, "if the sword chooses you, I won't stop it."
Hayate inhaled sharply.
But Souji's next words cut through the room like lightning:
"But if it does not choose you…
then no amount of money can buy it."
Hayate stepped closer, jaw tight.
"You're just a kid. You think you understand disaster? I've lived with sickness and death chasing me since I was small. I became a Jōnin anyway!"
His voice shook with emotion.
Kakashi narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
For the first time, Souji didn't look like a child at all.
He looked like a full-grown man.
Kakashi found his attention drawn backward—
to the shadowy corner where a small figure knelt.
Uchiha Itachi.
Itachi's eyes were wide, watching Souji with awe.
Not superiority.
Not arrogance.
Worship.
Respect.
Shock.
Souji, oblivious to their reactions, continued:
"If this sword rejects me and kills me one day, then that is my fate."
"If I die, it only means I was weak."
"I chose the ninja path. I accepted life and death. I don't fear the consequences."
He looked Hayate directly in the eye.
"Senior Hayate."
For the first time since entering the room, he faced him completely.
The intensity of Souji's gaze made Hayate flinch.
This wasn't physical intimidation.
It was something heavier—
a pressure coming from the soul, from a will far stronger than a child should possess.
Hayate stepped back involuntarily.
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