Yashiro Uchiha picked up a skewer of tricolor dango. His gaze burned like a torch as he looked at Night sitting across from him.
"The turmoil in the Hidden Mist Village... it was related to you, wasn't it? You might have even played a part in it."
Night lifted his teacup and took a gentle sip. The rising steam obscured the faint smile playing on his lips. He neither admitted nor denied it.
Yashiro slowly lowered the bamboo skewer. He lowered his voice, his tone carrying a surprise he couldn't quite conceal.
"In just a few short months... for a mere Chunin to stir up a storm that engulfed an entire village... you've done very well."
"Just a bit of luck, that's all."
Night spoke lightly, but a confident light swirled in the depths of his calm eyes.
As a leader of the Uchiha's younger generation, Yashiro possessed the typical Uchiha mindset. He nodded in approval. "The Uchiha clan respects strength. You've proven yourself, so you deserve to be treated accordingly."
The atmosphere softened slightly due to this frank recognition. Night didn't dwell on the topic. Instead, he asked at the right moment, "I see you just finished work, Senior. Has the Police Force been busy lately?"
"Just some trivial missing persons cases. We have no leads for now."
Yashiro's tone was flat; he clearly didn't think much of it.
"It's mostly scum recently released from prison, or rogue ninjas kicked out of the village. Trash like that deserves to die anyway; no one cares if they disappear."
Night's expression didn't change, but internally, his mind was clear as fire.
Prisoners... Rogue ninjas... These are the "cleanest" test subjects, the ones least likely to trigger an investigation.
With the battlefield no longer providing a natural source of bodies, had Danzo finally started looking for other channels?
"If I find any clues in the future, I'll inform you immediately, Senior," Night promised vaguely, though he didn't share his true deduction.
"The Police Force has its own intelligence channels, there's no need..."
Yashiro instinctively maintained the Uchiha pride, but he paused mid-sentence.
"However, if you are willing to help, the Uchiha will remember this kindness."
He kept his head down, clearly not taking Night's offer too seriously. To this Uchiha elite, it probably sounded like the usual polite lip service from a young ninja.
However, in that instant, a formless, intangible pressure descended.
The aura was as deep as an abyss, yet fleeting, vanishing like a hallucination.
Yashiro jerked his head up, his muscles tensing instantly.
Across from him, Night sat calmly, using a bamboo skewer to pop a dango into his mouth as if nothing had happened.
But that fleeting oppression was so real that Yashiro had to re-evaluate the boy in front of him.
He didn't ask what that aura was. He simply raised Night's threat level in his mind by another notch. It seemed the boy's role in the Mist wasn't just "participation"—it was something far more significant.
Yashiro downed his tea in one gulp and stood up.
"I will remember your words." His tone was still flat, but far more solemn than before. "I have duties to attend to. I'll take my leave."
Night smiled and nodded. "Take care, Senior."
Watching Yashiro leave, Night's gaze grew distant. This accidental meeting had provided a wealth of information.
Danzo's moves were faster than he expected, but this wasn't a bad thing.
Rather than alerting the enemy now, it was better to wait for them to fatten up their "results" and harvest them later to maximize the profit.
His mind raced. Danzo couldn't pull this off alone. Only he—Orochimaru, the "Cold Lord" with an abnormal obsession with forbidden jutsu and the mysteries of life—could be the collaborator.
As long as Orochimaru got dragged into this muddy water, his chances for the Hokage seat were zero. Night didn't even need to do much; he just had to wait for the right moment.
---
Somewhere in a secret underground cave.
"Madara... I think you might be interested in this."
A bizarre creature, half-black and half-white, slowly emerged from the solid rock floor like a ghost. He spoke with an unsettling intonation.
Deep in the cave, an old man in a worn black robe leaned against the conduits extending from the Gedo Statue. His face was haggard, his life fire seemingly about to extinguish at any moment.
He slowly opened his eyes. The crimson within was filled with indifference.
"Oh? In this boring ninja world, is there anything left that can pique my interest?" Madara Uchiha's voice was dry and raspy, carrying a trace of mockery.
"It's been quite lively over in the Land of Water recently."
Black Zetsu forced a weird smile onto his twisted face.
"The two great bloodline clans of the Mist erupted in a death match, nearly wiping each other out. Immediately after, the Three-Tails Isobu escaped, and a mysterious ninja intervened, fighting the Third Mizukage to a standstill. And everything seems to point towards Konoha's handiwork..."
Madara listened quietly, his withered face showing no ripples of emotion. Only when Black Zetsu finished did he speak indifferently.
"Family infighting, Tailed Beasts losing control, strongmen stirring up trouble... It's just the pathetic, cyclical norm of this erroneous world."
He paused, his tone filled with boredom. "Since Hashirama died, nothing in this ninja world is worth my attention."
Then, shifting the topic, a faint light flashed in his eyes. "How is the vessel for my eyes doing?"
"Nagato?"
Black Zetsu responded immediately. "He is training with Jiraiya in the Rain Country. His growth is rapid. It seems the Uzumaki constitution is indeed suitable for nourishing your eyes."
"Watch him closely. Those eyes are the core of the plan. There is no room for error!" Madara's voice carried an unquestionable command.
"Understood," Black Zetsu replied humbly, playing the part of the dutiful tool.
Madara spoke again. "Have you found any suitable candidates among the Uchiha members I asked you to watch?"
Black Zetsu spoke with a sinister tone. "Regarding the Uchiha clansmen... that man named Fugaku Uchiha isn't bad. He's a deep thinker and awakened his eyes earlier than others. There's also that clan elder, Setsuna Uchiha, who has a near-fanatical obsession with clan glory."
"While Uchiha blood is the foundation, what matters more is their nature."
A trace of sarcasm crossed Madara's eyes.
"Fugaku and Setsuna... At their age, they haven't even awakened the Mangekyo. They are nothing but dry bones in a grave, unfit for great things."
"To carry our Eye of the Moon Plan, the executor must be special enough. Continue looking for a suitable candidate."
Black Zetsu let out a knowing, eerie chuckle. "Yes, Lord Madara. Your will is my direction."
"Indeed, not every Uchiha can be a qualified pawn. What we need is a vessel whose heart can hold enough darkness and obsession."
With that, his figure slowly sank back into the earth, leaving not a trace of his presence behind.