Chapter 237 — The Scheme
"Are you Uchiha Ryu?"
Toward dusk, Uchiha Kawa arrived at the office with a boy of about sixteen or seventeen at his side.
The boy was striking—handsome in a way almost every Uchiha seemed to be. Beyond looks, he gave Kei a good impression: calm, steady, the sort of promising seed a clan would be proud to cultivate.
"Sir," Uchiha Ryu bowed lightly to Kei. "What orders do you have for me?"
His tone was respectful. That deference was typical of the Uchiha who had joined the Police Corps: Kei shared their background and understood them. His own rise gave them hope, and they treated him with sincere loyalty.
Ryu had heard from Uchiha Kawa that the post he was being offered would be demanding—he could refuse if it proved too much. Still, he had come. That alone said something about the boy: he wanted to seize the opportunity, not shy away from it.
Kei slid a report across the desk. "Look this over."
Ryu took it. One glance—and his heart kicked faster. It was a transfer order: recommended by Uchiha Kawa, guaranteeing him the position of deputy leader of the Third Squad. A clear promotion and a major step up.
He was excited, but he kept his composure. He hadn't forgotten Kei's warning about an arduous task, and the document had not yet been signed—Kei must have further conditions.
After a few minutes, Kei spoke. "Finished?"
"Yes, Sir." Ryu bowed. "Thank you for your trust."
"Save talk of trust for later." Kei rose from his chair. "Time for your test. First: can you tell me what my goal is? Second: how do you intend to carry out your part of it?"
Ryu had expected this. He set the paper down and thought seriously. He needed to see beyond the promotion itself: what did Kei stand to gain by placing him inside the Third Squad? Who in that squad held influence, and how might Ryu shift internal dynamics?
The Third Squad was a mixed bag—Inuzuka, Uchiha, Aburame and even civilian shinobi—diverse and unruly. Uchiha Jun, the current squad leader, had a reputation in the clan, but it was clear she and Kei were not entirely aligned. That itself explained a lot: Kei wanted oversight and a channel of reliable reports from inside a squad he did not trust implicitly.
Ryu realized Kei wanted him to act as both support and monitor: to assist Jun, to report up the chain, and to slowly build influence so the department's actions could be coordinated more tightly.
It was political work—harder in its own way than any battlefield mission. But Ryu, hardened by his time on the frontlines, saw it as an opportunity rather than a burden.
"Head wants me to supervise and keep the Third Squad in line, to make sure the squad's work is smooth and that you get reports directly," he said with confidence. "I'll assist Captain Jun and send you the necessary reports."
Kei smiled. "Very good. So you've made your choice."
"Yes, Sir." Ryu inclined his head.
"Do the job well," Kei said, patting his shoulder. "If you succeed, I'll reward you handsomely."
"No reward necessary, Sir. I'm honored to serve." Ryu's voice was steady and deferential.
Kei's expression softened for a moment. "Don't be too hasty to decline a gift. Think on Kawa's situation, think carefully, and then decide. But for now—finish your assignment."
Meanwhile, in a subterranean lab beneath Konoha, Danzo Shimura sat across from a kneeling Root operative, his tone low and severe.
Aburame Ryoma had been gone nearly a month. Counting from the day he accepted his mission, it had already been a month and a half.
Root's code of conduct was strict: every operative was required to report once a month, never exceeding a month and a half.
As one of Danzo's most senior and trusted subordinates, Ryoma was not the kind of man to break such rules. Which left Danzo with only two possibilities.
The first: Ryoma was still on the mission, too deep inside an enemy's secrecy to transmit information. That was plausible, but only in cases like infiltrating a hidden laboratory with no safe channels out.
The second: Ryoma had been compromised—exposed, and likely killed.
Danzo hated to consider the second, but as a shinobi, his mind and heart were hardened to such losses. Still, he maintained both lines of action: wait for any message that might come, and at the same time conduct his own investigation.
What truly infuriated him was the thought that the Uchiha clan might have killed his man. The insolence! Perhaps his old teacher had been right all along—the Uchiha were a nest of arrogant madmen who thought themselves above the law.
"Forgive me, Lord Danzo. We've received no information," reported the kneeling Root agent. "Nor have we found a body. While Ryoma-sama may indeed be dead, we cannot yet confirm it."
"Don't waste my time with useless words," Danzo snapped. His gaze sharpened. "What about the Barrier Corps and the Sensory Division?"
Every Hidden Village relied on such divisions: the Barrier Corps to weave protective wards, the Sensory Division to detect chakra signatures inside and beyond the village. Any large-scale battle within Konoha's borders should have been picked up.
Danzo wasn't expecting much, but he had to ask.
"There was a report," the operative admitted. "About a month ago, they sensed a terrifying chakra flare. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared. They couldn't lock onto it in time."
"Worthless trash," Danzo hissed, though in truth he knew this wasn't their fault. Still, rage boiled beneath his calm exterior.
A sudden surge of chakra that intense, only to vanish instantly—that could only mean one thing: a battle that had ended as quickly as it began.
Ryoma was almost certainly dead. And Danzo had no idea who had struck the killing blow. One thing was clear: the mission had failed.
"The Uchiha…" His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Very well. You win this round. But next time…"
He forced himself to let it go. Much as it stung, he was the one at fault. He had sent Root to pry into the affairs of one of Konoha's most powerful clans. If he had solid results, it would have been worth it. But with nothing to show, any blame that surfaced would land squarely on him.
The Uchiha weren't blameless—they had killed a loyal son of the village, after all. But Danzo could hardly publicize it. And worse, the man they had eliminated was investigating none other than the head of the Police Force.
"Enough," Danzo said at last, his voice flat and cold. "Erase all records of Aburame Ryoma. From this day forth, he never existed. No one is to speak of him again."
"Yes, Lord Danzo." The Root shinobi bowed low, without hesitation or surprise.
For Root, this was the way of things. Failure was shame. Erasure was routine. They were the unseen shadow beneath Konoha's light. They had no names. No faces. Only duty.