"First," Douhuan's voice echoed across the shrine, steady and solemn, "I don't want to hear a single whisper of rebellion from our clan again."
"Huh?" The younger Uchiha, who only moments ago had been fired with enthusiasm, froze in shock. Shisui and Itachi both breathed a quiet sigh of relief. At least Douhuan still understood—an open rebellion against the village would doom the clan.
But their relief lasted only a heartbeat.
"This village was founded by Lord Madara and the First Hokage together," Douhuan continued, his eyes sharp. "The Uchiha should have remained as one of its masters. All I intend is to reclaim the power that was always ours."
"That's right! This village should have belonged to the Uchiha all along!" Uchiha Inahimi shouted, excitement rekindled.
"Second," Douhuan said, dropping his next decree like a blade, "the Security Department is severely understaffed. Starting tomorrow, we will recruit civilian shinobi. Within one week, I want the force doubled. Their salaries will be equal to village D-rank ninjas. Furthermore—every jutsu in our vault, every technique and spoils we've collected over the years, excluding anything tied to the Sharingan, will be distributed as rewards to outstanding recruits."
The hall erupted. Even Shisui and Itachi couldn't hide their confusion.
If the first declaration had been shocking, this one cut straight into the clan's very flesh.
"Silence!" Douhuan's voice thundered. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping the hall. "Most of you here have served in the Security Department. You've felt it yourselves—no matter how fairly we enforce the law, the villagers resent us. The Department may seem strong, but it has built a wall between the Uchiha and the rest of the village. That wall is nothing less than a trap set for us by the cursed Senju bloodline!"
His words struck like fire. "If we want power, then first—we must tear down that wall. We must close the distance between us and the villagers. Remember the words of the First Hokage: 'Becoming Hokage does not earn recognition. Only through recognition can one become Hokage.' We Uchiha have been apart from the people for too long. Now, we will embrace them."
For a moment, even Shisui faltered. Wasn't this exactly what he had wanted all along? Could he have misunderstood Douhuan?
A cautious elder broke the silence. "Recruiting civilians is one thing, but… our ninjutsu is far too precious to give away."
"The strength of our clan lies in our bloodline," Douhuan replied coldly. "Not in scraps of paper gathering dust in our vaults. Better that we use them to build a bridge to the village."
Fugaku finally spoke, his tone measured. "But Douhuan, have you considered the cost? Paying civilian shinobi D-rank salaries will drain our coffers quickly. Especially since, after the incident six years ago, we were forced to move from the village center."
"Elder Fugaku," Douhuan smiled faintly, "you needn't worry. I'll secure the necessary funds myself."
"It's good you've thought of that," Fugaku said, nodding. "Then, as tradition dictates, the clan head should also serve as the head of the Security Department—"
"No, no." Douhuan cut him off, raising a hand. "Elder Fugaku, you will remain head of the Security Department. I have… more important matters to attend to."
"More important matters?" Fugaku frowned.
"Of course. The mission entrusted to me by Lord Third," Douhuan said with a smile.
An elder leaned forward. "Speaking of which—since you've accepted the task of investigating Danzō and Root, shouldn't we begin at once?"
"How can we investigate so soon?" Douhuan's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "We must give them time."
Time to destroy the evidence.
He turned his head sharply. "Inahori, Zaitō. Starting tomorrow, you'll accompany me on the Root investigation."
"Yes, sir!"
"Yes, sir!"
—
Meanwhile, deep inside the Root headquarters, Yamanaka Fū and Aburame Ryōma worked tirelessly with their men, feeding document after document into the flames.
For years they had served under Danzō's iron grip, trained to obey without question. Even now, with their master dead, they carried on like machines, incinerating every secret record the Root had ever held.
Fū's mind was uneasy. His unique skills, capable of piercing mental defenses, made him invaluable against the Uchiha—but that was precisely why Danzō had kept him here in the base. Ryōma, too, remembered bitterly his clash with Douhuan during the Third Shinobi War, when his insects had faltered under the storm of Douhuan's lightning. He had barely escaped with his life.
Now, both men received chilling news: Douhuan was on his way.
They exchanged grim looks, then glanced at the few remaining scrolls yet to be destroyed. Without a word, they stepped out of the base to confront their enemy.
—
Outside, Douhuan strode forward, flanked by Inahori and Zaitō.
"This old bastard's den is way too far out," Inahori muttered, irritation in his voice.
Douhuan only smirked, raising his brow. "Here comes the bastard himself."
A spark cracked in the air. Blue lightning burst from his body, hissing across the ground. All around them, swarms of insects fell twitching to the dirt, their wings sizzling in the current. Even the grass beneath their feet shriveled to ash.
Inahori and Zaitō instantly drew their kunai, muscles tense.
"Ninja of the Aburame clan," Douhuan's voice rang out coldly, "didn't you learn your lesson last time? Your toys are useless against me."
A hail of shuriken whistled through the air.
But a foot from Douhuan's body, every blade froze, hanging suspended as though trapped in an unseen current. One burst into smoke with a bang—and from it leapt Aburame Ryōma, kunai flashing straight for Douhuan's throat.
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