Chapter 151 — An Unintentional Action Could Lead to Misfortune
The crimson light of dusk spilled across the ruined plains where Kumogakure once stood. The air was still thick with dust and the metallic scent of blood.
On a distant cliff, the Uchiha warriors and Konoha shinobi stood in silence, watching the towering Eight-Tails rampage through what remained of the Hidden Cloud. Its massive frame moved like a puppet bound by invisible strings, eyes swirling with tomoe—an unmistakable mark of the Sharingan.
Among the Uchiha, the veteran elder Uchiha Setsuna frowned deeply.
Did the Clan Head… awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan during the Nine-Tails' attack years ago? Could it be that the disaster that night was his doing?
The thought alone sent a chill through his veins. He turned slightly when Uchiha Yashiro, standing beside him, leaned in and whispered,
"Second Elder, have you forgotten? That night, the Clan Head was in the shrine holding a meeting with us. He couldn't possibly have been controlling the Nine-Tails."
Setsuna blinked, realization dawning. Of course—how could he forget? That night, Uchiha Fugaku had remained in the clan's meeting hall the entire time. It was impossible for him to have been the one who summoned the beast.
No, the truth had to be something else.
Someone else controlled the Nine-Tails that night.
They had speculated endlessly about it after the tragedy—who could possibly wield a Sharingan powerful enough to enslave a tailed beast? No Uchiha lived outside the village, and only the Mangekyō could dominate such power.
Unless…
It had been Madara Uchiha's descendant.
Setsuna's gaze darkened. If Madara truly left blood outside Konoha, then that would explain it. Yet none in the clan believed that the legendary founder had ever fathered heirs—Madara's heart had been consumed by power, leaving no room for sentiment.
Still, speculation meant little now. What mattered was the present—the faces of the Konoha shinobi below, growing uneasy as they watched the Eight-Tails slaughter civilians, its eyes flashing red with Sharingan tomoe.
Memories resurfaced.
The night of the Nine-Tails.
The screams. The fire. The endless accusations.
Setsuna clenched his jaw. He could almost feel the weight of that same suspicion rising again in the hearts of the Konoha soldiers.
Damn it, Fugaku… why did you have to control the Eight-Tails now, of all times?
He sighed sharply. The Clan Head still hadn't descended from his Susanoo's pentagonal barrier, leaving Setsuna to handle the growing tension. Thinking quickly, the elder clapped his hands, his voice booming:
"Everyone, hold your positions! Hokage-sama has instructed that after the battle, we clear the field. For those who stood guard and supported this campaign, he's granting a ten-minute bonus: any money you find is yours to keep!"
A stunned silence followed—then sudden, eager murmurs spread through the ranks.
"Ten minutes?"
"Only banknotes, right? No gold or relics?"
"Doesn't matter—money's money!"
In an instant, every Konoha jonin's eyes gleamed with excitement. They had fought little in this campaign, but if the Fifth Hokage himself permitted looting, even briefly—then it was fair game.
Setsuna exhaled in relief as the soldiers' mood shifted from suspicion to greed. For now, Fugaku's reputation was safe.
At his side, Yashiro tilted his head. "Second Elder, did Hokage-sama truly say that? I don't remember hearing it."
Setsuna gave him a sharp look. "Of course not. I made it up."
"Eh?"
"I needed something to distract them," the elder muttered. "If we let them dwell on the Sharingan, everything Fugaku has worked for will crumble."
Yashiro hesitated, then nodded. "Fair point. A few handfuls of ryo won't matter."
Their conversation was cut short when a familiar figure approached—her blonde hair gleaming even through the smoke.
"Tsunade," Setsuna said dryly, his tone hardening.
The Sannin folded her arms, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Well? Planning to go back on your word already, old man?"
Setsuna blinked. "What are you talking about now?"
Her smirk vanished. "Don't play dumb. Your Clan Head promised me eight percent of Kumogakure's total assets. Don't tell me you've forgotten."
Yashiro winced. Ah… that.
Setsuna rubbed his temples. "Our Clan Head's word is final. You'll get what you were promised."
"Then why are you giving out this ten-minute 'bonus' before my cut's been tallied?" she snapped, hands on hips.
Setsuna's brow twitched. The woman's greed was legendary—and infuriating. Still, he forced a calm tone. "Tsunade-sama, we can't know the total assets until the survey teams arrive and count everything of value. The banknote collection has nothing to do with your share. They're separate matters."
Tsunade paused, squinting suspiciously. "…Is that so?"
"Exactly," Setsuna replied smoothly, gesturing with exaggerated politeness. "Your eight percent remains untouched."
The legendary healer frowned, clearly unconvinced, but after a long moment, she exhaled and turned away. "Fine. But if you try to cheat me, don't expect me to heal anyone next time."
Setsuna muttered under his breath, "As if anyone could afford you anyway…"
Before he could say more, the air shimmered—and Uchiha Fugaku emerged from the pentaprism, his Susanoo fading into ethereal mist.
"Clan Head-sama," Setsuna called out, bowing lightly. He quickly explained the situation and his decision to create the "ten-minute welfare" to divert the troops' attention.
Fugaku listened in silence, then chuckled softly. "Well done, Second Elder. I hadn't considered that."
The Clan Head's calm eyes turned toward the battlefield. "An unintentional act, it seems, nearly caused a great misunderstanding."
He focused his Mangekyō Sharingan briefly—the tomoe in his pupils spun—and far below, the Eight-Tails abruptly froze mid-motion. The monstrous creature collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut, no longer rampaging.
The battlefield fell silent again.
Kumogakure lay in ruins. Nearly every jonin and chūnin of the Hidden Cloud had perished—slain by their own beast. Even the genin had fought to the end, refusing to flee. Their courage was undeniable… but futile.
Fugaku raised Susanoo's spectral palm and spoke, his voice ringing across the field:
"Everyone, ten minutes! First come, first served!"
Cheers erupted instantly.
"Woo-hoo!"
"Let's go!"
"Get the cash before the Hyuga do!"
Dozens of Konoha jonin leapt from the giant's hand, scattering into the ruins, overturning rubble, prying open safes, and shouting triumphantly each time they found bundles of ryo.
Watching them, Fugaku's eyes softened slightly. Behind him stood Uchiha Setsuna, Uchiha Yashiro, Hyuga Hiashi, and the ever-composed Tsunade, who—unlike the others—remained still.
Fugaku glanced at her. "Tsunade, you're not going? I hear your debts have been… considerable."
The Sannin smirked, her eyes glinting. "Why bother with scraps when I already have eight percent of the Hidden Cloud's fortune waiting for me?"
Fugaku chuckled quietly. "Fair enough."
The Sannin turned her gaze back to the sunset-soaked ruins, her expression unreadable.
The Uchiha banners fluttered in the wind as Fugaku's Susanoo dissolved completely, its fading chakra painting the sky crimson.
And in that dying light, even Setsuna couldn't help but think—
Sometimes, even a small, careless decision can change everything.
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