White Zetsu ran off again.
The elderly residents of the nursing home were dreaming about White Zetsu disguised as an old man asking them about bodily functions.
This gave Yahiko a massive headache when he heard the news.
He had planned to quietly develop for a while, then shock Madara during the Fourth Great Ninja War.
But now... he had already been targeted by Madara?
Fortunately, the village was currently protected by a barrier, if any unfamiliar chakra entered, Shuzen would detect it immediately.
That made him feel much more at ease. Saving the Uzumaki clan wasn't in vain.
Thankfully, Madara was staying under the Kannabi Bridge, so presumably, he wouldn't recklessly come and gather intel right now?
In his office, Yahiko processed documents, and when he imagined Madara being completely in the dark, he couldn't help but chuckle.
Yes, the village would grow quietly... and one day amaze everyone.
---
Underground, White Zetsu had his legs broken by Madara and was lying on his side, drawing circles on the ground with his finger.
The situation was very complicated.
Madara couldn't leave!
Shuzen had used a 360-degree barrier centered on the village, with no blind spots.
Even the earth beneath a hundred meters had faint chakra fluctuations.
Whoever touched the barrier would be instantly detected by him. He might even have other tricks, any intruder could be marked and tracked.
Unfortunately, Madara's current temporary base was within the barrier, right beneath Yoake.
Though he was old, he wasn't completely bedridden yet, handling one old Uzumaki wouldn't be a problem. But he was wary of that technique called Dead Demon Consuming Seal.
If his soul got devoured by the Shinigami, how would he ever be resurrected to complete the Eye of the Moon Plan?
Now, they were all stuck.
There were other White Zetsu underground too. All of them were created by him to gather intelligence across the shinobi world, and now, it was all for nothing.
White Zetsu was scared Madara might strangle him and didn't say a word, not even bring up poop again.
"Madara-sama, what should we do now?" one of the White Zetsu asked.
Madara said nothing. How would he know?
In the shadows, Black Zetsu wanted to cry. He really wanted to pop out and tell Madara to have White Zetsu disguise himself as Yahiko or one of the vessels and ambush Shuzen.
But Madara hated underhanded sneak attacks.
Officially, Black Zetsu was supposed to be the embodiment of Madara's will. Without a justifiable reason, he couldn't reveal himself. He could only keep hiding.
This Madara was so stubborn.
He was so tired.
Mother... I miss you so much...
Madara figured even the surface was probably covered by a barrier, so he ordered the White Zetsu to lie low for now.
In the darkness, he could only sit on his stone throne with his eyes closed, silently replaying the mental chessboard.
No one knew how much time had passed.
---
Bzzzzt... fffff...
After a burst of static, a familiar young voice echoed from the village broadcast speaker.
"Hey hey hey..."
Everyone in the village could hear Yahiko's voice, including Madara underground.
He opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the voice. What happened during the days I was asleep?
With his legs healed, White Zetsu squatted on the ground. Along with the bored White Zetsu, he also looked in that direction.
Yahiko, sitting in the school's broadcast room, didn't realize how many hateful glares were now pointed at him, even from underground.
"Good morning. I am Yahiko, the village chief. Ah yes, in the blink of an eye, it's already autumn. I am very pleased."
"You must be wondering why my voice is so clear, right? Hmm, the speaker system was invented by a former Konoha ninja. The idea? Naturally, it was mine."
"You know, just yesterday I was observing my own hand, held it about half an arm's length from my face, and noticed how my middle finger twitches slightly every few seconds without me telling it to. Fascinating, really. Did you know the human hand has twenty-seven bones? That's more bones than your entire spine has vertebrae. Speaking of spines, mine's been aching lately from all this paperwork."
"Oh, and here's something interesting, when you're writing with a brush, the optimal angle is thirty-seven degrees from the paper surface. Not thirty-six, not thirty-eight. Thirty-seven. I learned that from a trustworthy source. He also told me that the best ink is made from soot collected on the fifteenth day of the third month, but honestly, who has time to wait for such specific timing?"
"I've been keeping track of how many steps it takes to walk from my office to the school, it's exactly 69 steps if you take normal strides, but 67 if you stretch your legs just a little. The difference is barely noticeable, but it's there. Just like how the morning bell rings for exactly twelve seconds, while the afternoon bell only rings for eleven. Has anyone else noticed that? No? Just me?"
"Actually, that reminds me of something else entirely fascinating..."
"..."
"Today is a big day. How should I put it? Last night, I and..."
"Konan! How did you get in here? Hey hey! What are you doing?"
For a moment, the entire village, and even Madara underground, could hear him struggling and resisting loudly.
Not long after, Yahiko gave up, and a female voice came through the loudspeaker.
"Good morning. I'm your teacher Konan... Yesterday, the village council decided to make today Teacher's Day. Please do not be surprised. All students, proceed in an orderly fashion to gather on the school field."
Madara's eye twitched. He had a bad feeling about this.
He instinctively wanted to tell White Zetsu to go check the situation, but remembering the possible presence of a barrier, he shook his head helplessly.
Standing up, he looked at White Zetsu, who was squatting silently on the ground, lost in thought.
Sigh...
The other White Zetsu beat up the guy who got them all stuck here. Who knows how long it went on.
Madara got tired watching the show, went back to his stone seat, and prepared to nap.
Suddenly, that same grating static noise again.
Bzzzzt... ffff...
"Happiness... is one of the most discussed topics among people. So, for you students, what is happiness?"
"Let's welcome first-year, Class 2 student Yuki to give a speech. Applause, please."
Clap clap clap...
Konan's clapping came through the speakers. Madara's face turned dark.
"Happiness!"
In the dimness, a red gleam flashed through his eyes. He really wanted to do something, but he held back.
Small patience prevents ruining big plans.
He couldn't expose that he was still alive. If the entire shinobi world turned against him, the consequences would be disastrous.
He covered his ears, trying to ignore the voices from above.
"Today my topic is: Being a happy student."
The little girl's voice was high-pitched and piercing.
Veins bulged painfully on Madara's forehead.
"I'm Yuki from Class 2, Grade 1. Our principal always teaches us to respect teachers and value education. I completely agree! What kind of child would ever hurt their own teacher?..."
Then came the ceremony music, clang clang clang, followed by the sound of teachers crying in gratitude afterward.
"Very good," Yahiko picked up the microphone again.
Does this ever end?
"Madara-sama, calm down, calm down!"
White Zetsu hurried to hug one of Madara's legs, and another White Zetsu hugged the other.
"Huff... huff..." Madara's hands made cracking sounds from clenched fists.
He had to hold it in a little longer.
Yahiko and Konan... good, very good. Exceptionally good.
At noon, the children had to eat, so at last, there was a brief moment of peace.
---
In the afternoon, during "Big Break" time, it was the kids' first time experiencing this new system, a twenty-minute session where they didn't have to study and could just play.
"From today onward, every morning and afternoon during Big Break, all students and teachers must gather on the field to do exercises."
"This is the first village-wide broadcast calisthenics set for elementary and middle school students. Now starting: 'Hope Sets Sail.'"
After Konan finished speaking from the stage, she put down the mic and followed Yahiko to learn how to do the exercises.
Through the speakers, the sounds of seagulls and ocean waves played.
Madara wasn't quite as irritated by this.
Compared to those little girls' high-pitched, glass-shattering voices, it wasn't so bad.
But hell, after "Hope Sets Sail," there was another routine.
Step aerobics!
Step forward, then jump back, to train leg muscles. And it wasn't just students doing it.
Even the elderly from the nursing home, well, those who could still move, and some idle adults joined in.
Hundreds, maybe thousands of people, jumping at the same time.
No one knew just how much physical and mental torment Madara was enduring underneath their feet.