"My God…"
"Is this real?"
"The Third Hokage… and Danzō… did what?!"
Ryuji's words, broadcast across the crimson barrier, detonated like thunder over Konoha.
Within moments, the entire village descended into uproar.
Most of the noise came from civilians—ordinary villagers who had grown up believing in the gentle image of the Third Hokage, the pipe-smoking elder who preached harmony and Will of Fire.
Now that image cracked before their eyes.
The Clans React
Inside the Nara compound, shadows gathered in quiet discussion.
The Nara didn't panic.
They analyzed.
Even if they couldn't see every detail yet, they could already read the pattern: Ryuji would not have acted publicly without absolute certainty. The barrier, the projection, the timing—it was all too deliberate.
This wasn't an accusation.
It was a conviction.
Across the village, the Hyūga clan watched silently.
And in the Uchiha district—
A ripple of satisfaction spread.
They had long lived under subtle pressure during Hiruzen's rule. They weren't foolish enough to openly celebrate—but internally, many felt vindicated.
They would not strike first. That would stain their reputation.
But watching their political rivals crumble?
That required no apology.
In a Tavern
At a quiet tavern near the market street, a graceful blonde woman poured herself sake.
Tsunade Senju.
She lifted her cup and watched Ryuji's massive projection across the sky.
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Heh… the time's finally come."
Then her gaze shifted briefly toward the sealed Sarutobi compound.
For a moment, something like bitterness passed through her eyes.
She drank.
A cold, smooth voice broke the silence.
"Tsunade… are you ignoring the teacher's summons just to sit here?"
A tall, pale figure entered the tavern.
Snake-like eyes. Calm smile.
Orochimaru.
Tsunade didn't respond immediately.
She simply placed another sake bottle in front of him.
"Sit. Drink."
"I'm just enjoying the show."
Orochimaru studied her face carefully.
There was something different about her.
Not anger.
Not despair.
Relief.
He accepted the sake and took a slow sip.
His mind drifted back a few days.
Ryuji's coup had been surgical.
Fragments of evidence released.
Public pressure built.
Then—swift impeachment.
Before anyone could react, the Third Hokage had been removed.
Even Orochimaru had been caught off guard.
He had expected to be next.
After all, he had conducted forbidden human experimentation inside Konoha—with Danzō's support.
Instead, Ryuji had visited him personally.
No threats.
No arrest.
Only conditions.
Funding would continue.
Research would continue.
But not on Konoha citizens.
That single adjustment had changed everything.
Orochimaru couldn't fully grasp Ryuji's long-term intentions—but he understood one thing clearly:
Ryuji was not sentimental.
Ryuji was pragmatic.
And pragmatism… Orochimaru respected.
As the evidence began scrolling across the crimson barrier, Orochimaru's lips curled slightly.
This was fascinating.
The Evidence Unfolds
Images, documents, testimonies.
Everything Minato had compiled now illuminated the sky.
The first revelation struck like a hammer.
Over the years, members of the Senju clan—regardless of rank—had been repeatedly assigned to disproportionately dangerous missions.
Failure rates were abnormal.
Casualties excessive.
Patterns undeniable.
Even those Senju who had integrated quietly into civilian life were not spared.
Secret detention logs surfaced.
Experimental records.
Unauthorized transfers.
The crowd went silent.
Then came the revelation that shattered whatever sympathy remained.
Nawaki Senju's death.
It was not simply battlefield misfortune.
Plans. Reports. Manipulated deployments.
A hidden objective: obtaining Wood Release.
The implication was clear.
Hiruzen and Danzō had gambled with Nawaki's life.
The village stood frozen.
Only two Senju remained prominent in public memory:
Tsunade.
And the aging Uzumaki Mito.
The weight of that realization pressed down like a storm.
"Those monsters…"
"How could they?!"
The anger began to boil.
Root's Shadow
The projection continued.
Clandestine operations under Danzō's command.
Young talents from major clans—Hyūga, Aburame, Yamanaka, even civilians with rare aptitude—vanishing overnight.
Records of covert transfers.
Suppressed complaints.
"Danzō!"
"No wonder our genius disappeared!"
"This… this is unforgivable!"
The clan compounds trembled with fury.
Only the authority of their patriarchs kept shinobi from charging the barrier outright.
Corruption Laid Bare
Then came the financial records.
Supply shipments from the Fire Daimyō.
Military provisions meant for the village.
Mission funds.
Civilian taxes.
Siphoned.
Redirected.
The Sarutobi and Shimura clans had swelled in size and wealth over the decades.
From modest clans to political giants rivaling even the Hyūga.
And they hadn't just strengthened their ninja ranks.
They had fattened their civilians.
Built estates.
Stockpiled influence.
All while preaching sacrifice.
The reaction was volcanic.
"Third Hokage?! Don't insult the title!"
"Sarutobi Hiruzen doesn't deserve that name!"
"And Danzō—"
"They're parasites!"
Voices echoed across rooftops.
Windows slammed open.
Anger, long suppressed under reverence and fear, finally erupted.
Within the Four Red Yang Formation, Sarutobi Hiruzen's face turned pale.
Danzō's jaw clenched so tightly it trembled.
The carefully maintained image of benevolent leadership—
Gone.
Shattered.
The Will of Fire they had invoked for decades now burned against them.
"It's over…" Danzō muttered under his breath.
Hiruzen said nothing.
There was nothing left to say.
For the first time in their lives—
They were no longer the ones controlling the narrative.
They were simply defendants.
And the entire village was watching.
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