At the clan meeting, Jhin's response left everyone staring.
No one had expected him to deny it.
Sure—there was no proof. But in their eyes, proof wasn't necessary. If it wasn't the radicals, then who else would do something like this?
The Uchiha were stubborn and straightforward. They lived for battle and bloodshed, not arguments. So for once, even the ones who came prepared couldn't find the words to hit back.
Shisui finally snapped, his face twisted with frustration. "Uchiha Jhin—so you did it, but you don't dare to admit it?"
"If I did it, I'd admit it," Jhin said, shrugging. "But I didn't do it."
"Why should I confess to something I didn't do? Or are you planning to beat a confession out of me?"
He tilted his head, like the whole meeting was a mild inconvenience. "How about this—I'll swear an oath."
"If the radicals did this… then let the Sage of Six Paths strike me dead with lightning!"
Silence.
Dead silence.
No one expected Jhin to be this brazen—to drag out an oath like that in the middle of the clan meeting. It hit like a blunt weapon, leaving everyone dazed.
Now what?
The softliners and the moderates went blank.
They'd assumed the radicals would admit it at most—maybe refuse to hand anyone over, sure, but still admit it. That was why they'd spent all that time arguing about how to force the radicals to hand over the culprit.
But Jhin didn't even step onto that battlefield.
He refused to acknowledge it.
It stopped everything cold.
And honestly, it wasn't just the softliners and moderates.
Even the radicals looked stunned.
A few of them had their mouths twitching, fighting to keep their expressions under control. 'That's shameless…'
Jhin spread his hands. "Well? Everyone saw it, didn't they? The Sage of Six Paths didn't strike me dead."
"That proves I'm not lying."
A thin, mocking curve lifted at the corner of his mouth, and he looked at the room like it wasn't even worth respecting.
'They get fooled by Hiruzen Sarutobi this easily, and they think they can play this game with me?'
'If years of education from my old life can't handle Fugaku and Shisui… then it's time to find a wall and smash my head into it.'
Losing a fight? That could be understood.
But losing to Uchiha like this in a war of words?
That would be an embarrassment to every reincarnator who ever lived.
As for swearing oaths—Jhin didn't fear them.
This world might have a Sage of Six Paths, sure. But "god" wasn't some untouchable heavenly law here. At worst, it was just an absurdly strong being—something closer to an alien than a divine judgment.
There was no will of heaven to punish him.
"Jhin, you—" Shisui tried to retort, but the words collapsed before they left his mouth.
He couldn't.
Against someone as thick-skinned as Jhin, Shisui's earnest righteousness had no claws.
Fugaku couldn't sit still anymore. He rose, face stern, eyes locked onto Jhin.
"Jhin. Stop."
"I know the clan has suffered. I know everyone's been wronged," Fugaku said, voice tight. "But Shisui and I... We are really trying."
He swallowed, and there was something disturbingly close to pleading in his tone. "Just give me a little time. Please."
But when he looked at Jhin, there was something else there, too.
A flicker of killing intent—real, unmistakable.
Fugaku understood the humiliation the Uchiha endured in the village. But he understood something even more clearly:
The Uchiha were not suitable for a place like Konoha.
That was why he'd exhausted himself for years trying to hold the clan together, trying to keep them alive by forcing them to endure.
What he couldn't understand—what ate at him—was why no one would accept it.
'Just endure a little longer. Just give a little more.'
'Once the clan fully merges into the village, everything will be fine.'
He'd barely managed to suppress the radicals before.
Now, with Jhin's rise, the pressure felt crushing.
A disobedient genius was worse than no genius at all.
Across from him, faced with Fugaku's emotional plea, Jhin's expression didn't change.
"I'm sorry, Clan Head."
"I sympathize with what happened to Root and ANBU," Jhin said evenly. "But if you want to dump that filth on my head, then go find evidence first."
"If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving."
With that, he didn't bother sparing Fugaku another glance. He turned and walked out of the shrine.
Explanation?
Pointless.
He had no interest in recruiting the other factions either. Jhin knew the truth of people: prejudice was a mountain.
Unless the Uchiha were remade—unless enough blood spilled, enough lives burned away—nothing inside the clan would truly change.
If the Uchiha wanted rebirth, they'd need to be tempered by blood and fire.
But there was no need to rush.
That opportunity was already drawing close.
As Jhin left, the radicals rose with him, one after another, following at his heels.
It was clear enough.
In their hearts, Fugaku no longer held any authority at all.
"Jhin, you—" Shisui tried to stop them, but Fugaku caught him with a hand.
"Shisui. Enough."
"Let them go. Forcing them to stay is meaningless."
Fugaku's voice lowered. "Tell me about the scene. What did it look like? The village… doesn't have even a single lead?"
He was genuinely confused.
If there was evidence, then at least the problem had a handle—something he could grip, something he could manage.
Shisui hesitated. ANBU had rules. Intelligence wasn't something you casually handed out.
But the case was messy, and Shisui finally shook his head, frustration leaking into his voice.
"Whoever did that destroyed evidence. The bodies were burned to ash. There's no trace—nothing to track."
Then his gaze hardened again. "But I'm certain. The radicals did it. Uchiha Jhin is the mastermind."
Fugaku's face tightened with bitterness.
Because it didn't need to be said. Everyone already knew who the culprit was.
Before Jhin rose, the radicals were reckless, but they still didn't dare strike the village directly.
At worst, they barked.
After Jhin?
Everything spiraled out of control.
After the disappearance of a few Uchihas and the awakening of Jhin, Root and ANBU died.
It was blatant.
As Clan Head, Fugaku wasn't blind.
But it didn't matter.
Without proof, there was nothing he could do—especially not against someone like Jhin.
After a long silence, Fugaku spoke quietly. "I can't help you with this. Report it to the Hokage truthfully."
Shisui's expression soured. "… That's all we can do."
In a flash, he used the Body Flicker and vanished from the shrine.
After Shisui left, Fugaku announced the meeting's end and returned home.
That was it.
For the Uchiha who kept disappearing, neither of them even considered seeking justice.
And that was exactly why Fugaku's reputation kept rotting away.
Mikoto brought him a bowl of tea, then asked softly, "Is it resolved? Did the radicals lower their heads?"
"No." Fugaku shook his head. "It's worse."
"Uchiha Jhin has taken power."
"And now the radicals will be even harder to deal with… because they have a Mangekyō."
Mikoto's eyes sharpened with curiosity. "Then how do we answer the village?"
Fugaku fell into thought.
After a moment, he said, "There's nothing to answer."
"We won't interfere."
"Let Hiruzen Sarutobi and Uchiha Jhin fight it out. It'll also show me what the village truly intends for the Uchiha."
"If things can't be done… then we sacrifice Uchiha Jhin. If the village backs down, even better."
"Either way, it won't affect us."
Only then did Mikoto fully understand.
Her husband was using Uchiha Jhin as a test—a chess piece to probe Konoha's attitude.
She wanted to object. To say something, anything.
But she remained silent.
Jhin was a clan member… but he wasn't close to them.
Neither of them noticed the small shadow outside the tea room.
Itachi.
He'd heard every word.
His fist clenched so tightly it trembled.
'Outrageous …'
'Why can't you think from the village's perspective?'
'What a foolish clan.'