Step one: fearmongering. Step two: pros and cons. Step three: bait. Step four: set the agenda.
Uchiha Kei used the classic strategist's playbook.
Of course, it wasn't really manipulation—he was just laying out the facts.
By the time he finished explaining, the Uchiha elders were fully hooked. Their interest and expectations surged, and even they didn't notice the growing trust and yearning creeping into their thoughts.
After all, Uchiha Kei's analysis was airtight—flawlessly structured and brilliantly reasoned. There was no way your average Uchiha, isolated and politically unsavvy, could come up with something like this.
The analytical and summarizing powers of 21st-century internet netizens vastly outmatched anything the shinobi world could produce.
This wasn't superiority. It was simply access to information, distilled wisdom, and a top-down perspective no one else here had.
As participants in the game, the Uchiha might've vaguely sensed the problem, but boiling it down to something actionable and easy to grasp? That was way beyond them.
Even a shrewd old fox like Uchiha Setsuna only vaguely understood that the clan's situation was dire and that things needed to change.
Now, fully "convinced," the Uchiha higher-ups eagerly awaited Kei's next words.
And it was now that Uchiha Kei revealed the crux: if the Uchiha wanted to ease tensions with the other major clans of the Hidden Leaf, they had to share benefits.
But given how stubborn and hard-headed the Uchiha were, asking them to surrender privileges they'd held since the founding of the village was a tall order.
Especially since those industries were the livelihoods of ordinary Uchiha—shops run by regular clan members as store owners and clerks.
If they really wanted to form genuine alliances with the other clans, the cost would be significant. And when that time came, internal chaos was almost guaranteed.
So Uchiha Kei's stance was clear: don't divide the existing pie—just make a new one. Then invite others to the table.
The genjutsu-based game was that new pie. The profits it promised were impossible to calculate. With it as bait, Kei could pull the other clans onto the Uchiha's ship.
That would punch a giant hole in the web of containment around the Uchiha.
On that foundation, all they'd need was to win over the civilian population—to change public opinion. If the people's perception shifted, the clan's worst-case scenario would be resolved.
In fact, if they pulled it off, the Uchiha and their allies could one day surround the Hidden Leaf's leadership from all sides.
As he spoke, Kei unleashed the full power of a keyboard warrior trained in the political discourse of the internet age. He tackled culture, governance, geography, interests, ideology, and public opinion, laying out both the feasibility and vision of his plan.
He exuded confidence, eloquence, and the aura of a strategist like Zhuge Liang dividing the land or Liu Bowen unifying a kingdom. The Uchiha elders were awestruck by the might of a 21st-century keyboard sage.
Theories and strategies they'd never heard of dazzled these backwoods shinobi. Their eyes were opened—like a dull blade finally sharpened.
From confusion to contemplation, from epiphany to alarm, their thoughts were swept along by Kei's words. It was almost like the way seniors back in his old life got brainwashed by viral posts and clickbait articles.
By the end, they were stunned and admiring—some even looked at Kei with worshipful eyes.
No doubt about it—even though these were the Uchiha considered the wisest in the clan, their thought processes were still painfully direct. Most of the time, their approach to problems was "What's your problem? Come at me!"
Even when it came to schemes, their big idea was sending a young genius to spy on the Hokage. Simple and crude—you'd question whether they even had brain cells.
If not for that, with their legacy as a founding clan and their wealth of elite shinobi, how could the Uchiha possibly have been driven to extinction?
To them, Kei's analysis was a total paradigm shift—a god-tier strategy that cracked open a new world.
Eventually, Clan Head Uchiha Masanobu said warmly, "No wonder you're Kei-kun. Your wisdom far surpasses our expectations. No—it surpasses the limits of a single clan. You're seeing things from a far higher plane."
"Perhaps… this is the kind of mindset a Hokage should have."
There was a trace of bitterness at being surpassed, but also genuine joy at seeing a worthy successor.
After all, Kei was young—and had a strong bond with his son, Uchiha Fugaku.
If the two worked hand in hand, there was no doubt the Uchiha would rise again under their leadership.
None of the elders objected to the praise. They all agreed. Even Uchiha Setsuna looked a little hollow, his eyes unfocused.
"So this is the mindset a Hokage must have… The height of thinking that Tobirama Senju stood upon… The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, must've inherited that as well."
"All this time, we Uchiha were suppressed by the Leaf's leadership because we lacked this level of thought…"
"How ridiculous… I thought being a hardliner meant I'd seen through the Leaf's true nature. I believed only rebellion could bring us a future. I was dead wrong."
"From the very start, my thinking was shallow. I was dancing in the palm of my enemy's hand. Everything I stood for—everything I've fought for—it's all a joke. I've led the Uchiha straight into the abyss…"
At that moment, a wave of crushing despair hit him. His back slumped, head drooped, and his Sharingan opened.
His emotions surged. The realization that all his life's efforts had been for nothing overwhelmed him. For a moment, he thought—maybe it would be better to end it all now.
His three-tomoe Sharingan spun rapidly. It even began to evolve.
In his current state, that evolution would likely be his final act.
But it stopped.
Because Kei spoke again.
Just a few modest words in response to all the praise. But for Setsuna, it snapped him out of his spiral.
When he thought of Kei, a surge of hope filled him.
Because the Uchiha clan no longer lacked a Hokage-level mind.
Uchiha Kei was a blessing from the heavens.
His insight, vision, knowledge, and talent filled every gap the clan had.
In Kei, Setsuna saw a beautiful future for the Uchiha. A future where the clan would rise again.
Yes. As long as Kei-kun was here, everything would be alright.
He already had a complete plan—a way to break free from their chains.
The rest of the clan might lack his brilliance, but they could support him.
If they all stood by his side—protected him, helped him—then, just like he said, they could reclaim their lost honor and status.
And maybe…
Even reach for the seat of Hokage itself!
With that thought, Setsuna's eyes lit up with passion. His spirit surged like a battle-shōnen protagonist entering his final arc.
His Sharingan even changed form—just for an instant. Then returned to normal.
No one noticed. Not even him.
As for Kei, he felt a bit awkward.
Being praised for having a Hokage-level mind… was honestly a bit terrifying.
After all, the last two Uchiha praised like this were Uchiha Kagami—who died young under mysterious circumstances.
And Uchiha Itachi—the one who wiped out his entire clan and died in his twenties.
So… being told an Uchiha thinks like a Hokage… kind of sounds like a death sentence.