"Asuma, a so-called elite of the Leaf? Is this really the level they've fallen to? Has Konoha's shinobi degenerated this far?"
Once Asuma had left, the young man sneered coldly.
"And to think he's the direct descendant of Sarutobi Sasuke… With strength like that, he's not even worth comparing to his ancestor."
His voice dripped with contempt and disdain.
"It's precisely because he's so useless that he survived," another voice suddenly rang out in the room that had been silent till now.
From the floor, a strange head emerged, darting its eyes around before slithering free with a chuckle.
Black Zetsu.
"After all, the entire Sarutobi clan has been wiped out. What remains could be counted on a single hand. A clan that endured from the Warring States Era until now… and yet—"
"What of it?" the youth cut him off harshly. "My Uchiha clan also dwindled to nothing but a handful of strays, hiding in some corner of the shinobi world just to cling to life."
Because the Leaf's destruction had been carried out in secrecy, and because the Uchiha had so rarely revealed themselves, Zetsu still had no idea that Root's forces had already been replaced by Uchiha.
"Konoha today is no longer the Konoha you remember, Madara."
The space distorted, and Tobi (Obito) stepped into the room.
"It is now his domain alone. His ambition was never limited to just Konoha. I'm certain he intends to become the daimyō of the Land of Fire. If not for Nagato's sudden rise disrupting his rhythm, he would have already ignited the Fourth Great Ninja War."
"But one thing I still don't understand—why help the Land of Whirlpools to 'revive'? Why go to such elaborate lengths to imprison the Land of Fire's daimyō bloodline under the banner of Uzushiogakure?"
That young man—was none other than Uchiha Madara. Or rather, an incomplete Madara.
This Madara had not truly been resurrected. He existed in a state akin to Edo Tensei—yet special, closer to Orochimaru's Living Corpse Reincarnation. He was Madara, and yet not Madara.
His presence here was as a representative of the Fire Daimyō's faction.
Though that faction lacked a true daimyō, it did have his offspring.
Madara's current identity was that of the former daimyō's illegitimate child—the one with the strongest claim to succession within the Land of Fire.
With that veneer of legitimacy, he commanded part of the Fire Country's military, as well as the loyalty of the famed "Guardian Twelve," the daimyō's personal protectors.
Of course, every soul who could actually confirm his supposed lineage was long dead—slain by Uzushiogakure, Akatsuki, Naruto, or even the Guardians themselves.
Which raised an unsettling thought: perhaps there never was a daimyō's bastard son at all.
"That man… Danzo, the disciple of Tobirama?" Madara muttered after hearing Obito's words.
"Hmph. The old man actually has some skill. Far more than the two of you."
"The idea of helping the Land of Whirlpools 'revive'—only someone like him would conceive it."
"How many Uzumaki even remain in this world? On the surface, it appears to be about restoration, but in truth, he's merely pushing them into the spotlight—while he himself remains in the shadows, pulling every string."
"With one stroke, the problem of the daimyō is erased, without ever dirtying his own hands."
"You still haven't noticed? The new Land of Whirlpools stands exactly where Konoha once stood. What difference is there but a change of name? The location alone makes manipulation effortless."
"And if the scheme fails? Then blame falls squarely on the Uzumaki—call them remnants of a dead nation, say they deceived him. Danzo emerges unscathed, the victim of manipulation."
"Advance or retreat, whichever way it goes, he stands unassailable."
"A brilliant maneuver. No wonder he was trained by that conniving Tobirama. And even more cunning than his master."
Is… is that really it?
Can it be done like this?
Obito's eyes widened, Madara's words hitting him like revelation. Countless mysteries that had confounded him before suddenly became clear.
That old ghost Danzo—he actually planned this far ahead.
Too cunning. Far, far too cunning!
Seeing Obito's face light up with sudden understanding only enraged Madara further.
"If not for your sheer incompetence, I wouldn't have had to go to such lengths!"
A single useless general can ruin an entire army.
Why, oh why, had he chosen such a fool as successor?
He had laid everything out before death.
He had only asked Obito to exploit information gaps, to deceive and manipulate others, to use the minions Madara had left him.
All he himself needed to do was wait quietly in the Pure Land until resurrection.
And the result?
His entrusted eyes lost, squandered. The deception failed. His revival via Rinne Tensei obliterated.
Now he walked the earth as a mere husk of a corpse.
And still had to clean up Obito's mess.
Utter garbage.
They said fools were easier to control. Yet this fool had his own delusions—dreams of seizing the Eye of the Moon plan for himself.
"Madara, this isn't our fault," Black Zetsu interjected, attempting to defend Obito. "Too many unforeseen accidents occurred. Even an impossibly strong 'ancestor' of the Uzumaki suddenly appeared."
"Ancestor? Don't make me laugh. I never heard of such a thing. Among the Uzumaki, only Ashina had any real ability." Madara's rage still simmered hot.
"It's true," Obito insisted. "He even claimed to be your disciple—called himself Jūshin, the monk with the fruit."
"That? That is what fooled you?"
"Pathetic!"
Madara pressed his palm to his forehead, massaging his temples. For the first time, he felt utterly exhausted.
Even he—no schemer by nature—could see through such a ruse.
If Obito could borrow his name to deceive others, why couldn't anyone else do the same?
And his "disciple"… not even an Uchiha? How could he possibly claim Madara would accept that?
Suspicion cast on Zetsu, for this?
I've had enough.
"If not for the lack of a Sharingan, I would have thought him your bastard son!"
Obito's next words hit like a bombshell.
"Pft—!"
Madara almost choked on his own breath. His eyes bulged, hands trembling from fury, staring at Obito in sheer disbelief.
He could not fathom what kind of idiocy it took to utter such words.
"U! Chi! Ha! Obito!"
He forced the name out through gritted teeth.
My bastard son? At my age?
So what—did he father a child at ninety years old?
Even if that were possible, what woman could possibly be worthy of Madara Uchiha?
Did this fool ever use his brain?
"Even pigs are smarter than you!" Madara roared. He very nearly jabbed a finger in Obito's face.
Had he known, he would've chosen an actual pig over this idiot.
At least then, the Eye of the Moon Plan might already be complete.
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