On the wooden corridor near the small courtyard.
Two cushions, a low table, and a pot of green tea.
Rinjin and Fugaku sat on either side of the low table, watching two children practicing shuriken throwing in the courtyard while making small talk.
"Sensei, I remember you never let us practice shuriken throwing before," Fugaku said with a smile.
"Minor skill, not very useful." Rinjin waved his hand dismissively.
Never mind Fugaku—even his own shuriken throwing skills weren't presentable.
From beginning to end, he had never found this skill useful. Instead of spending time on it, he'd rather have a blacksmith custom-make a large shield.
"Instead of practicing shuriken throwing, it's better to extract chakra, or at worst practice nature transformation."
Hearing this, Fugaku smiled and shook his head, clearly not entirely agreeing.
However, he was already set in his ways, and his strength was what it was.
On the contrary, his two children were exceptionally talented and needed proper training.
Thinking of this, Fugaku tentatively asked:
"Sensei, do you still take disciples?"
Hearing this, Rinjin glanced at Fugaku, immediately understanding his disciple's little scheme.
Whether it was Itachi, Sasuke, or Naruto, these children didn't need artificial cultivation at all.
Just like Shisui—Rinjin had never interfered with his training.
There was simply no need.
What these promising rising stars needed wasn't strict education, but experience and support.
With good logistical support, these children would naturally grow beyond what old-timers like them could ever expect.
"No, I'm already forty-one. In the Warring States period, if I hadn't died in battle at this age, I should have retired and become an elder!"
Hearing this, Fugaku scratched his head and glanced at his teacher, who looked only in his twenties or thirties, muttering internally.
His teacher was a monster—not showing the slightest trace of aging.
Tsunade-sensei was even more terrifying—while others grew older with age, she seemed to get younger.
Silently grumbling, the small courtyard fell quiet for a moment, with only the dull thud of shuriken hitting targets.
After a while, Fugaku picked up his teacup and took a small sip, his dark eyes incredibly deep.
"Sensei, our clan probably can't hold on much longer!"
Hearing this, Rinjin was slightly stunned and instinctively raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me the details."
"I can't put my finger on it, but it feels very wrong. Three years ago, when the Nine-Tails attacked the village, using the excuse of replanning the village, many Uchiha clan members were relocated to the southwest corner of the village.
This matter wasn't necessarily good or bad—our old clan grounds by the Naka River were cramped, while the southwest corner has quite spacious land.
Originally, it was trading a small prosperous area for a large remote one, and many clan members didn't complain much.
But during a patrol of the clan grounds, I discovered something suspicious.
Clan members who already had significant estrangement from the village seemed completely isolated.
Moreover, recently, Uchiha incidents have far exceeded the past. Sometimes even force can't suppress them, and both sides will fight over just a look."
Speaking of this, Fugaku let out a long sigh.
He couldn't claim loyalty to the Uchiha, but there were still quite a few clan members who followed him faithfully.
"Sensei, does the... Hidden Rain Village... have... have places to settle people?"
Hearing this, Rinjin smiled and glanced at his proud disciple:
"If you want an entire piece of land, the land-scarce Hidden Rain Village can't provide that. If you can accept living scattered, the high-rises in Hidden Rain Village do have vacant rooms."
Hearing this, Fugaku immediately fell silent.
Having received turncoat education since childhood, he didn't mind—he could live anywhere.
But could those guys who had lived next to clan members from birth to death accept it?
Thinking of this, Fugaku nodded gravely:
"Sensei, please keep those vacant rooms for me. At least a hundred units—I'll try to bring away those who aren't so stubborn."
Hearing this, Rinjin smiled and nodded.
Actually, Uchiha who didn't cluster together were good Uchiha.
Just like the Uzumaki clan back then—mix them with refugees from various places.
The first and second generations might not show much difference, but by the time third-generation children were born, they'd have completely forgotten about clan honor and such nonsense.
"By the way, Sensei, do you have any way to let these people leave Konoha without being marked as rogue ninja?"
"The cicada sheds its shell," Rinjin scratched his head and answered casually.
"Just like your Uncle Dog—fake death, then leave."
"The key is I don't have that many fake corpses to substitute!"
"No need. Since you sense the Uchiha are going to have problems, just make things bigger. Abandon all the unnecessary people and take away all those close to you.
As long as enough people die, numbers won't be an issue.
Most importantly, Konoha's interests must be given up. That way, those who benefit won't gossip!"
"Makes sense!" Fugaku nodded heavily, a barely perceptible killing intent flashing in his eyes.
Those stubborn old fools from the elder faction—let them die for us!
Fugaku Uchiha had never been soft-hearted.
Seeing Fugaku fall into deep thought, Rinjin decided not to stay longer. He patted little Sasuke's head and leisurely left Fugaku's house.
Strolling down the street, the distant sun was setting, its golden afterglow spilling over the Hokage Rock.
"Konoha business is finished. Return the Glass Pure Bottle and head back to Hidden Rain Village."
...
One day later, Hidden Rain Village's Kabuki-chō First Street, Ami Free Information Center.
The once chaotic narrow alley had become today's spacious street. The laughing girls had disappeared, replaced by marriage agencies, game arcades, and small inns.
As a lord so stingy he was miserly, Rinjin believed that every drop of deoxyribonucleic acid should go where it belonged and fulfill its proper value.
Rather than being wastefully squandered in meaningless places.
As for matters of "firm conviction"—strictly prohibited on the surface, but privately... hehe...
Inside Ami Free Information Center, Rinjin and Jiraiya sat in a small private room.
"Rinjin, do you have intelligence on Orochimaru and an organization called Akatsuki?"
Jiraiya didn't ask whether Rinjin knew, but directly demanded intelligence.
As soon as he finished speaking, Rinjin's head shook like a rattle drum.
"No! Don't know! Don't ask me!"
"You definitely know something!"
Jiraiya said with certainty, his small eyes staring at Rinjin without pause.
Seeing this, Rinjin still shook his head and waved his hands, indicating he knew nothing.
Orochimaru's defection and Jiraiya wanting to bring Orochimaru back—such matters didn't concern him.
Given Jiraiya and Orochimaru's relationship, even if Orochimaru turned so dark he was unrecognizable, he would never try to kill Jiraiya.
But Akatsuki's Nagato was different!
That child was young and had no sense of restraint when striking.
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