"So the Sharingan's evolution also upgrades my spiritual network abilities... This function that links others to the spiritual network—could it be the effect of the Transcription Seal?"
The Transcription Seal—a secret technique of the Uchiha clan. By establishing eye contact using the Sharingan, one could seal a jutsu into the eyes of either the user or a target. When the conditions were met, the seal would automatically release, activating the jutsu.
Technically, this required at least a fully matured three-tomoe Sharingan. Uchiha Kei was no exception.
But since the underlying principle was known to all Uchihas, it was a technique that could be studied as long as one had awakened their Sharingan.
With his current two-tomoe Sharingan and spiritual network fusion, Uchiha Kei had unknowingly created a mutated form of the Transcription Seal.
Instead of sealing a jutsu, he was sealing spiritual network "ports," allowing others to share his spiritual network. And Uchiha Kei himself became the "host server" with full administrative control.
Of course, this was a newly developed function. Its full capabilities still needed to be explored.
———
By 4 p.m., Uchiha Kei's third game, *Left to Survive*, finally unveiled its long-awaited mystery.
The organizers cleared the central area, creating an open space. They ensured that players could project their in-game visuals for the audience to watch in real-time.
Those who had been playing since morning had returned to the audience under staff guidance, now eagerly awaiting the demonstration of this new title.
For many, this game—*Left to Survive*—was what they'd truly been looking forward to.
The organizers had confirmed: this game was designed for both shinobi and civilians alike, and could be enjoyed with friends and family. Its core appeal was high-paced cooperative fun that anyone could join in on.
And so, in front of over five thousand people, four lucky teams were introduced. Sixteen people in total, divided into four teams of four, stepped into their designated player zones.
Three of the teams were unfamiliar to the crowd—randomly selected lucky participants teamed up on the spot. They responded cheerfully to the audience's cheers and excitement.
But the final team received a thunderous welcome.
Because one member of that team was none other than Minato Namikaze—the rising star.
After his performance that morning, Minato's popularity had exploded across the Hidden Leaf. He was no longer just a local favorite—he was now hailed as the representative of the younger generation!
Bearing the title of "Yellow Flash," he greeted the crowd with a sunny smile, exuding irresistible charm.
The warm atmosphere, however, left the three young ones beside him feeling extremely nervous.
Even Kakashi Hatake—who had already graduated the Academy and become a Chūnin at six—felt the pressure.
After all, they were only nine years old. None of them had ever stood before such an enormous audience. Their minds buzzed with anxiety.
Earlier that morning, they had eagerly expressed interest in playing *Left to Survive*, but now that the dream was real, they felt like their brains couldn't keep up.
Yes, they were the "lucky" ones chosen to test-play *Left to Survive*.
And they were actually paired up with their teacher, Minato Namikaze—a classic case of fantasy becoming reality.
Of course, the clever Kakashi had already realized this so-called "luck" was no coincidence. After all, Minato was part of the organizing team. That he was on their team? Clearly intentional.
Or rather—personally arranged by their teacher.
Kakashi glanced at Minato but said nothing about his suspicions.
This time, there was no need for Uchiha Kei to act as host. Other staff would handle the introductions.
With four teams playing simultaneously, there was no need for a formal host. The audience just had to enjoy the show.
Ultimately, *Left to Survive* was still an unfinished game—just a playable demo.
Under staff instructions, *Left to Survive* launched. Using four oversized, custom sealing scrolls, all sixteen participants were pulled into the game simultaneously.
Yes—through specialized genjutsu-sealed scrolls, it was possible to trap multiple people within a shared genjutsu experience.
This was a feature Uchiha Kei had developed from the "spectator" system, leveraging the sealing scrolls' capabilities.
It was common knowledge that sealing scrolls came in various sizes and qualities. Their effectiveness—and price—varied accordingly.
The genjutsu game scrolls currently sold by the Uchiha clan were the cheapest kind, which was why they were so affordable.
But *Left to Survive* was different. It used high-grade scrolls. Just a blank scroll cost over forty thousand ryō—an extravagant luxury item.
Expensive, yes—but effective. The ability to pull multiple players into the same genjutsu game was simply irreplaceable.
Now, using these premium scrolls, *Left to Survive*, a true multiplayer co-op experience, came to life.
The sixteen players saw a cinematic animation at the same time as the five thousand spectators in the real world.
The CG sequence revealed a setting where the Land of Demons had long sealed away evil spirits.
One day, the seal shattered.
The unleashed spirits' power spread unchecked, corrupting all living beings.
Those infected mutated—transforming into grotesque monsters. Even ordinary humans were twisted by the power, becoming mindless undead driven by hatred for the living.
To make matters worse, chakra—the energy unique to the shinobi world—was also corrupted, stripping most ninja of their powers and rendering them ordinary. Only a rare few retained fragments of their abilities—too little to halt the incoming apocalypse.
Now, players would embody the final four survivors of the shinobi world, struggling desperately to stay alive.
When the cinematic ended, four large screens appeared in the arena—each showing one team's perspective.
Inside the game, the players were shocked to find themselves "transformed."
Unlike *Fruit Shinobi*, where they moved with their actual bodies, this game had them fully embody preset characters.
Surrounded by unfamiliar faces and inhabiting new appearances, they were hit with double surprise—until they remembered this was like *Coming Home*, a game where you played someone else.
Still, the real buzz wasn't about the avatars. What truly stunned both players and viewers was the cinematic itself.
A form of storytelling they'd never seen before. A post-apocalyptic shinobi world.
It was bold. It was new.
Everyone was talking about it.