As long as this plan can succeed — even if only halfway — we'll have both the power to attack and the strength to defend.
After thinking for a moment, Uchiha Jin slowly nodded.
"I understand. Let's make that civilian ninja, Kudo Nobuyuki, our first step. You'll handle it."
Nara Kazama didn't hesitate. "That's easy enough," he said. "But let's wait until he's in real danger and comes to us himself. There's no need to act first. If we approach him now, it'll look forced — and desperation doesn't build loyalty."
He smiled slightly, the strategist in him already at work.
"Besides, civilian ninjas rarely survive long in war. When the time comes, he'll look for help. And if he doesn't—" Kazama shrugged, "—then it just means he wasn't worth recruiting."
Uchiha Jin didn't object. He'd already delegated the matter; he wasn't interested in micromanaging.
Don't ask about the process — only care about the results.
That was something he'd learned from the capitalists in his previous life.
With that, the two turned their discussion to other topics, and a fragile but genuine alliance was born.
They didn't fully trust each other — not yet.
But it was a start. And in their world, that was enough.
The night stretched on.
Eventually, Nara Kazama, unable to drink any more, collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep instantly. Uchiha Jin, who could hold his liquor better, remained awake. Though his head felt heavy, his mind was sharp.
He lay back, staring through the slit of the tent toward the faint glow of the moon, lost in thought.
What are the chances this plan will actually succeed?
And more importantly — can Nara Kazama be trusted?
He didn't know.
But that was fine. This was only the beginning — a cautious collaboration. Jin had no intention of revealing his true hand just yet.
Even if Nara Kazama turned out to be untrustworthy, Jin was confident he could walk away unscathed.
At worst, he could defect.
As long as his system remained hidden, nothing else mattered.
He'd survive, grow stronger, and eventually — when the time was right — return to Konoha as a king reborn.
What did trouble him, though, was something far more mundane.
Until he had the strength to protect his own family, he couldn't afford to be distracted by women — no matter how tempting the young kunoichi around him might be.
He sighed. Sorry, ladies. The revolution comes first.
Just then, the tent flap lifted open, and Shisui walked in — bloodstained, exhausted, and wide-eyed.
The metallic tang of battle clung to him… only to be immediately overpowered by the thick stench of alcohol inside.
He froze. Then coughed violently.
It wasn't that he couldn't stand the smell — he simply hadn't expected it.
After all, who would be drinking this heavily in a front-line camp? Especially when an enemy attack could come at any time?
When his coughing finally subsided, Shisui glared.
"Jin… how much did you drink? Are you crazy? This is the front line!"
He looked genuinely exasperated.
Meanwhile, Uchiha Jin, still lying back on his cot, didn't even flinch. He knew Shisui too well — the boy's sense of duty would have dragged him here sooner or later.
He gave a small shrug.
"What's wrong with it? It's normal," he said casually. "We just came back from a life-and-death mission. Our nerves have been stretched thin. There won't be any new orders for a while, so why not take the chance to unwind?"
Shisui's jaw tightened. He sighed in disbelief.
This guy always had a reason — a logical one at that.
He couldn't even argue without sounding uptight.
Honestly, he thought, he doesn't act like an Uchiha at all.
Rolling his eyes, Shisui finally gave up.
"Fine," he muttered. "Since you're not drunk, come with me. There's something we need to talk about."
Jin sat up, stretching lazily. He had expected this.
Without complaint, he followed Shisui out of the tent and into the cool night air.
They walked until they reached a quiet stretch of beach, where the sound of gentle waves replaced the chaos of the camp. The two sat down side by side, the moonlight reflecting off the calm sea.
For a moment, neither spoke. The breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean, easing the tension between them.
Finally, Shisui broke the silence.
"Why did you say those things to me before you left Konoha?" he asked quietly, his tone steady but his eyes searching. "You've always been good to me, Jin… I just don't understand."
Uchiha Jin looked out toward the horizon.
"I told you the truth," he said calmly. "I didn't want to lie to you."
Shisui fell silent.
He could feel it — Jin wasn't lying. Every word carried weight. He thought back on their time together, on Jin's strange mix of detachment and sincerity, and it all fit.
He had always been genuine. Distant, but honest.
Still, Shisui couldn't quite understand him. For someone like Shisui — raised on ideals of peace, loyalty, and unity — Jin's mindset was alien.
Yet, deep down, he respected it.
"Your strength is impressive," Shisui finally said, his gaze sharp as ever. "Stronger than what the Anbu's reports say — much stronger."