Meanwhile, Ryusei’s real body, in the South, sat motionless beneath a crumbling stone arch, eyes closed as he thought about the waves of memories recently poured back from his dispersed clones during the last few days.

Pakura’s escape and fury.

Orochimaru’s quiet power plays.

Tsunade’s grief, newfound closeness, her full awakening, and her trust.

Each memory settled into place, forming a clear pattern.

“So,” he muttered, voice calm, “the board’s finally shifting.”

He rose slowly, brushing dust from his cloak.

His chakra dimmed to nothing, presence fading as the mist rolled through the ruins.

“Next… Fugaku.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “If I can turn the Uchiha’s pride into foresight, the village will never see it coming.”

Then he stepped forward, vanishing toward further South, to finally speak with the man whose silence could change everything.

Ryusei crossed the border quietly, leaving the steaming valleys of the Hot Water Country behind and slipping into Fire Country under the cover of mist.

His chakra was muted to nothing, his presence folded into the natural rhythm of the forest.

By the time he reached the southern command lines, the sun had already begun to fade behind the hills.

Through his sensory field, he located the subtle pulse of Uchiha chakra far ahead, organized, layered, precise.

That was Fugaku’s central command.

He waited until night fully settled before sending out a faint, deliberate chakra ping.

One that carried a signature Fugaku had seen before, disguised but familiar.

Hours passed. Finally, a single, concentrated presence began to move toward him through the forest.

When Fugaku appeared, he came like a shadow in armor, tall, sharp, every step measured.

Thirty years old now, his face carried the stern stillness of a man who had seen too much war and too little peace.

His dark hair was tied back, and his eyes glowed crimson with three tomoe already swirling, scanning the dark.

Ryusei didn’t wait for him to speak. Instead, his voice entered Fugaku’s mind calmly, telepathic and controlled.

“Commander Fugaku Uchiha, my name is Ryusei Nishida. The one responsible for cleaning your rear lines not long ago, expelling the Kiri infiltrators, now on the lookout, so you could focus on the main front.”

Fugaku stopped, some of the tension in his stance fading, though not completely.

He continued forward until they stood within sight of one another, both still, both measuring.

The Uchiha’s tone was sharp and cold.

“So it’s you. The reports mentioned a boy. What do you want, appearing here at this hour?”

Ryusei smiled faintly. “Shouldn’t an important sub-commander like me eventually meet the great commander himself? I’ve long wanted to meet the famous ‘Wicked Eye.'” He let his gaze drift playfully to the spinning Sharingan. “They weren’t exaggerating. It really is fierce up close.”

Fugaku’s expression didn’t shift an inch. “Flattery wastes time. Meetings like this should never happen during war. That’s why I write, not invite.”

He took a step closer, chakra pressure subtly rising.

“If you came here thinking to mock me, or look down on me, you’ve made a mistake.”

Ryusei sensed the flare before the words finished. Fugaku’s chakra roared to life.

‘He’s cautious… but not without reason,’ Ryusei thought, feeling the edge of hostility wrap around them. ‘He’s testing me. Or hunting something.’

And indeed, Fugaku’s inner thoughts were colder than his face showed. ‘If this boy truly was behind the disappearance of those two clan elites near the southern line… tonight, I’ll know.’

Those brothers, alongside their Sharingan, had vanished without a trace.

For Fugaku, it had never sat right.

Sharingan could end up on the black market, yes, but not the eyes of top-line Uchiha elites.

That had been something different, something surgical.

Perhaps connected to this mysterious prodigy and his abilities.

He decided to find out for himself.

Without hesitation, Fugaku’s tomoe spun into a darker shape.

His unique Mangekyō flared open, twin, burning sigils radiating cruel precision.

Two unique powers activated in an instant. He knew he couldn’t use Susanoo here.

Oumagatsuhi — a curse of mind and body, sapping will and strength alike.

Kagaseo — an illusion that severed every sense, leaving the target blind, deaf, numb, and weightless.

The air twisted. Reality folded.

Ryusei’s vision blurred, and sound vanished.

Pain and weightlessness collided as his chakra lines scrambled.

But even under that pressure, his lips curved.

The faint green glow of his Yin Release flared inside his mindscape, stabilizing his thoughts to an extent.

Beneath his cloak, prearranged micro-fragments of Katsuyu pulsed, linking through his chakra network, disrupting the illusion with a pure integrated feed.

The genjutsu faltered just enough for him to barely move.

A surge of bright green chakra erupted from his body, shattering the darkness like a pulse.

Fugaku’s eyes widened, just a flicker, before his Susanoo’s skeletal ribs snapped into place, intercepting the frosty blast in a deep red shimmer of condensed chakra.

Smoke rolled between them.

Still partially bound by the genjutsu’s remnants, Ryusei grinned, his voice even.

“If we fight here, the whole section will feel it. You can’t deal with me quietly, and I don’t want to fight. So instead of swinging blindly, how about you tell me what’s on your mind?”

He stood relaxed, corrosive green aura flickering around him, stable amid the distortion.

“Maybe,” he said, eyes locking on Fugaku’s Mangekyō, “we’ll reach an understanding before we break something we both need.”

For the first time, the perfect stillness of Fugaku’s face cracked, not from fear, but from shock.

Ryusei was still moving.

Still speaking clearly.

His brain and chakra hadn’t shattered under twin Mangekyō assaults, something that should have crippled everyone and never failed him thus far on this front, secretly.

Fugaku’s mind went cold.

This was the worst possible outcome.

If the boy could still activate that strange chakra and speak, resisting the Mangekyō genjutsu just enough, then he could also summon that legendary slug, probably.

If he also called Tsunade, his backer, here, there would be no quiet solution.

The entire command zone could turn into rubble before answers were pulled from him.

And now Fugaku had exposed his own eyes for nothing.

He clenched his jaw, thinking fast.

It wasn’t that Sharingan never went missing.

The clan simply wasn’t as paranoid as the Hyūga.

They had never developed cursed seals to protect their eyes because pride and arrogance made them believe such precautions were beneath them.

Besides, the Sharingan was never as transferable as the Byakugan.

The Byakugan was a stabler, more ‘biological’ kind of system; the Sharingan was something deeper, linked to the soul itself, which was more unique in every person.

Every stolen eye drained chakra uncontrollably, way more than Byakugan when used by anyone other than its original owner, to any extent.

But the disappearance of his two elite clansmen hadn’t been ordinary theft.

They were among the most talented of their generation, and vanishing without a trace was impossible.

In Fugaku’s mind, there were only three explanations: a deep Kiri plot, an unknown hidden faction, or this thirteen-year-old prodigy who kept appearing in reports, Ryusei Nishida.

That was why Fugaku had felt elated internally that the boy basically presented himself on a silver platter just now.

He wanted to see for himself, to test his mind with the Mangekyō, to look into his memories and confirm the truth.

If he could uncover the connection, he could use it later, maybe as leverage over Tsunade, maybe to recover what was taken from those missing brothers.

But now that possibility was gone.

Fugaku’s Sharingan dimmed slightly, his expression hardening back into stone.

The boy before him was no simple talent.

He was something new, something dangerous.

He couldn’t explain how the boy was still standing despite two Mangekyo-level genjutsu abilities hitting him so directly.

He didn’t show it outwardly, but inside, Fugaku’s evaluation shifted instantly.

The boy’s threat level rose several tiers in his mind.

He could be considered a threat, even to him.

Fugaku made a silent decision then.

The matter of the missing brothers would remain buried for now.

There was no point raising it.

If this boy was truly connected, he’d never admit it, and if he wasn’t, asking would only expose Fugaku’s suspicion.

Either way, it gained him nothing.

The commander’s expression returned to its usual cold precision.

The forest between them was quiet again, only the wind whispering through the trees.

He lowered his chakra slightly, enough to make his words sound more like diplomacy than a threat. “Then tell me,” Fugaku said flatly, “what is it you want, appearing here in the middle of the night?”

Seeing Fugaku finally act reasonably after that brief but dangerous exchange, Ryusei felt a faint smirk tug at his lips.

It had been the right choice to wait until his strength reached this point before seeking him out. Testing him first had been worth it.

Now he understood why they called Fugaku the Wicked Eye. Those Mangekyō abilities weren’t for show.

The man had likely erased or broken countless enemy elites during this war using those same techniques, all without leaving evidence behind.

From what Ryusei had sensed, the second ability, the one that severed senses, required direct eye contact.

But the first, the curse that drained body and mind, seemed to work even without it.

A terrifying combination, one designed to catch a target from multiple angles at once.

He had managed to endure both only because his anti-genjutsu measures reacted fast enough.

The first technique had blurred his focus, letting the second slip in, but Katsuyu’s chakra interference and his Yin Bastion had stabilized him before it took hold completely.

Still, the experience told him enough. Fugaku wasn’t just another clan head.

His power sat firmly within the Kage spectrum, at least in terms of raw threat.

How dangerous he truly was depended entirely on whether one could withstand his genjutsu.

That crimson partial Susanoo had been the final proof. Its structure and density suggested enormous Yin chakra potency, characteristic of Mangekyo holders, yet Ryusei couldn’t tell how far Fugaku could push it now, whether it was a mere shield or the core of something far greater.

Either way, one thing was clear to Ryusei as he watched the man’s expression harden again.

This was no cautious commander anymore. This was a predator sizing up another.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep