Everyone in the shrine looked blank.
Those grand, righteous words had stunned them—was that really something Uchiha Jhin, the radicals' hardline leader, would say?
It wasn't just the softliners and moderates. Even the radicals looked confused.
Only one man was choking on it.
Fugaku.
He'd been mentally prepared for things to turn awkward. The timing really was too perfect.
But if he dared to call this clan gathering at all, it was because he'd already prepared a way to handle it—confidence born of a solution he believed would work.
And yet—damn it.
Before he could even open his mouth, Jhin tossed out that seemingly magnanimous line and nearly made him choke.
Now what?
If Jhin "didn't care" and was "willing to hand over the credit," then Fugaku forcing an explanation would make him look petty.
But if he didn't explain, it would look like he'd stolen his clansman's achievement.
In an instant, Fugaku was suspended in midair—hung by his own momentum.
Konoha's upper ranks might have pushed the narrative that it was Fugaku's achievement, but the problem was that plenty of people—inside the Uchiha, and even in the village—could guess the truth.
That realization made Fugaku's scalp go cold.
His original plan had been simple:
If Uchiha Jhin fought for credit, Fugaku would act magnanimously—say he didn't care about such things. That would win him goodwill, make Jhin swallow bitterness, and maybe even peel away some radical rank-and-file.
But Jhin didn't "fight."
He acted like a saint.
And that made Fugaku's plan collapse into smoke.
Uchiha Jhin wasn't playing fair. A radical wasn't supposed to speak like this.
"Uchiha Jhin, what nonsense are you spouting?!" Shisui couldn't take it anymore and snapped.
"This was Clan Head Fugaku's achievement from the start—who needs your fake generosity?"
Jhin didn't even look up. He only sighed and said slowly. "Whatever you say."
"How would I dare steal credit from the Clan Head?"
Shisui's scalp prickled. He went rigid, suddenly smelling danger in the air.
And he wasn't wrong.
Jhin's words detonated.
The shrine erupted into loud confusion.
Fugaku's face turned iron-blue, and he let out a slow breath.
Shisui might be strong, but in political warfare, he was nowhere near Uchiha Jhin.
But even Fugaku himself didn't know how to respond.
Refute Jhin, and Fugaku looked narrow-minded, incapable of tolerating others.
Agree with Jhin, and Fugaku would be admitting defeat—an even harsher blow to his authority as Clan Head.
So what now?
His mind spun hard enough to hurt.
And then, abruptly, something felt… wrong.
The radicals were missing.
A lot of them.
Fugaku's spine went cold. He looked up sharply, unable to stop himself.
"Uchiha Jhin—where are the rest of the radicals?"
"Why aren't they attending the clan gathering? What scheme are you running this time?"
The question snapped everyone's attention.
People blinked, then looked toward the radicals' section—at the empty stretch of space where bodies should have been.
Only then did the realization hit.
Right.
Where were they?
Eyes turned toward Jhin from every direction. A clan gathering was a serious matter—anyone eligible to attend rarely dared to skip it.
Even the slowest among them now sensed something off.
The radicals exchanged glances, and faint, mocking smiles appeared.
Jhin stayed calm. Then he stood.
"Not bad, Clan Head. You actually noticed."
"But it should be about time anyway. No need to waste more words."
"Since we're all clan, I'll give you a warning."
"Root and ANBU weren't withdrawn because Hiruzen Sarutobi suddenly grew a conscience."
"They were withdrawn because I nearly killed Danzō."
"Danzō has an entire arm of transplanted Sharingan. He can even use Senju Hashirama's Wood Release."
"And most importantly—he has the Uchiha forbidden technique: Izanagi."
"Clan Head Fugaku, try using your head."
"You've let the Uchiha forbidden technique slip away—and not just that. You've let that many Sharingan get taken."
"Especially the right eye under Danzō's bandages."
"That's a Mangekyō Sharingan."
"If the guess is right, it's probably Uchiha Kagami's."
"After all, there aren't many Uchiha who could awaken the Mangekyō… and the only one who truly died under suspicious circumstances was Kagami."
"Konoha took a loss this time—at my hands."
"Next, the upper ranks will retaliate in the shadows."
"So instead of throwing banquets, you should be tightening patrols and security inside the clan."
"Or don't blame me when more people go missing—and more people die."
He turned.
"We're leaving."
And with that, Uchiha Jhin walked out without another word. The radicals rose and followed.
An explanation?
He couldn't be bothered.
He wasn't some small fry anymore. The Clan Head couldn't suppress him.
And as he left, he made sure to stir one more pot of poison under Fugaku's feet.
Under Fugaku's rule, clansmen bled and died on the battlefield—then returned home unable even to be honored at the Memorial Stone.
So many sacrifices, traded for nothing.
Worse, the Uchiha's name only grew fouler. They lost their ancestral grounds. They were isolated in Konoha. Root and ANBU watched them like criminals.
Jhin had clawed back a small victory, and Fugaku had the shamelessness to snatch credit?
Fine, then.
Now the clan was losing people daily, while Danzō had an arm full of Sharingan—and even knew Uchiha forbidden techniques.
That blame could sit on Fugaku's shoulders.
And in truth—
The moment the radicals left, the shrine exploded.
An arm full of Sharingan? A Mangekyō under Danzō's bandages—Uchiha Kagami's? Izanagi?
The news struck the Uchiha like fire.
Even the softliners and moderates couldn't swallow it.
"Enough—quiet!" Fugaku shouted, voice strained.
"This is only Uchiha Jhin's side of the story. Don't believe it so easily!"
"I promise I'll give everyone an explanation—but give me time."
"For now… this meeting is adjourned."
Fugaku's head throbbed, and even now his words came out half-formed. In the end, he reached for his most reliable weapon.
Stalling.
It had to be said—Uchiha were easy to stall.
Everyone was furious, but in the end, Fugaku still managed to smooth it over.
That was normal.
In the original course of events, the clan was already on the verge of armed rebellion by the night of the massacre—and Fugaku still managed to stall them.