I'm sorry. What you're saying does make a lot of sense—but a coup is still a coup, and I can't agree with something like that."
"Also, take me to your patriarch. I want to speak with him directly. Maybe there's still a better way forward?"
Uchiha Kurotsu narrowed his eyes slightly. After a brief moment of silence, Jiraiya finally spoke up.
As his words settled, a puff of smoke surrounded him, and he released his Transformation Technique. The figure before Kurotsu reverted to its true form—one of the Legendary Sannin, clad in red, with a wild mane of white hair.
"You're… Jiraiya of the Sannin? No wonder the Transformation Technique was so flawless. You even gave me a dangerous sense of dread while you were still transformed."
Kurotsu's pupils contracted slightly as he spoke, instinctively tightening his grip.
The truth was, the only reason he had been willing to speak with Jiraiya this long wasn't just idle curiosity or a desire to toy with a spy. It was because, from the moment they met, he had sensed something dangerous about him—an instinct honed by combat. The sheer weight of chakra and presence made it clear: subduing this man wouldn't be easy.
And, considering they were deep inside the Uchiha district, with many clan members still yet to evacuate from the surrounding area, he had to tread carefully. Any conflict could result in unacceptable casualties.
In hindsight, it seemed his caution was justified. Even with his Mangekyō Sharingan, it would be no easy feat to bring this man down.
After all, Jiraiya was a shinobi who had fought through both the Second and Third Great Ninja Wars. A famed student of the Third Hokage, master of the Toad Arts of Mount Myōboku, and one of Konoha's most renowned legends. Even their current patriarch, Uchiha Yue, treated Jiraiya with due respect.
"If you truly want to see the patriarch," Kurotsu finally said, "then I'll need to report and request permission. I can't promise he'll agree to meet you."
His words weren't a rejection, but neither were they an invitation. The Mangekyō in his eyes remained sharp, focused on Jiraiya without blinking, clearly prepared for anything.
"That's fine. Ask away—I can wait. But if possible, please make it quick. I haven't seen the Hokage since returning to the village. By now, I'm sure Anbu are searching for me."
Despite the tension, Jiraiya remained relaxed, showing no irritation at Kurotsu's guarded behavior. His tone was composed, as if none of this was unexpected.
"…Alright then. Please come with me."
Kurotsu gave a small nod, his wariness slightly lessened. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a Shadow Clone to run ahead and deliver the report. Then, he gestured for Jiraiya to follow.
What Kurotsu didn't know, however, was that their patriarch had already been watching from the beginning.
"Heh… Jiraiya. The moment he returns to Konoha, he sneaks into the Uchiha compound to investigate. And now, he wants to meet me face to face?"
Uchiha Yue chuckled softly in his heart as he sat upon the high platform of the clan's inner chambers.
Through the spore network seeded across the entire Uchiha district—products of his Illusory World's unique evolution—he had sensed every development. Voices, movements, chakra fluctuations—none escaped his perception.
He had not only noticed Jiraiya's infiltration immediately, but had also listened to every word exchanged with Kurotsu. The subtle shifts in Jiraiya's expression, the slight hesitation, the curiosity—Yue had seen it all.
"Alright then, Jiraiya," he thought. "Let's see what you've come all this way to say."
Time passed.
With Yue already aware, Uchiha Kurotsu's report went unimpeded. Soon after, the great doors opened—and Jiraiya entered.
"So you're Jiraiya, one of the Legendary Sannin?" Yue asked calmly, lounging on a reclining chair, entirely at ease. He didn't even glance up from his position. "What is it you want from me?"
"Haha, yep! The one and only!" Jiraiya gave a dramatic pose. "Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku, white-haired wonder, and—let's be honest—the most charming man in the Five Great Nations!"
Yue's eyebrow twitched. Watching Jiraiya's flamboyant self-introduction in person was… something else.
"…Alright, I get it. Let's get to the point."
"Man, you're really all business. You don't look that old, but you talk like an old daimyo. No fun at all."
Jiraiya gave a mock sigh, but the lighthearted air quickly vanished as his face turned serious.
"To be honest, I didn't expect to meet you this soon. But after seeing the state of the Uchiha clan today—and hearing what that Uchiha jōnin said—I couldn't help myself."
"I had to come see you. The one who's transformed the Uchiha into something almost unrecognizable… and who claims he's going to save Konoha."
His words hung in the air, and his gaze sharpened, boring into Yue as if trying to strip away all illusion.
"…So now you've seen me. What do you think?"
Yue's Sharingan flickered, and in that instant, Jiraiya's field of vision wavered. A brief illusion took hold—nothing harmful, just enough to stun him and force a subconscious response.
"Ngh—!"
Jiraiya flinched. His eyes ached. His mind swam for a moment before clearing again. It had only lasted a second, but the weight of Yue's illusion was unmistakable.
"…It's beyond words. Your power, your insight—it's too deep, too layered. I can't believe a boy this young… no, I refuse to believe it."
He averted his eyes, releasing a slow breath. "It's like trying to stare into a bottomless abyss."
"Haha… such high praise? You'll make me blush," Yue chuckled lightly.
"But tell me, Jiraiya… will you now stand against me, for the sake of Sarutobi Hiruzen? Or do you still believe the current Hokage's council has the right to rule?"
"That—"
The question struck hard. Jiraiya faltered.
Yue leaned forward, his voice now low and cold.
"I see. You still can't decide. Your loyalty to Sarutobi-sensei runs deep. Admirable—but irrelevant."
He leaned back again.
"It doesn't matter what you choose. Because in the end… your power alone can't change anything."
Before Jiraiya could speak, Yue waved a hand. The space around the Toad Sage shimmered.
And in an instant—he was gone.
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