"Who's there?!"
The three tomoe spun violently as Shisui shot to his feet, drawing his blade in one fluid motion, his expression grim.
Yet no matter how far he extended his perception, he detected not the slightest trace of an unfamiliar presence.
"Do you want to know the future of the Uchiha? Do you want to stop feeling lost?"
The cold voice echoed again.
A thin layer of sweat formed on Shisui's forehead. There was something strangely familiar about that voice—as if he had heard it somewhere before.
But he did not answer.
The three tomoe in his eyes accelerated, twisting and merging into the shape of a pinwheel.
The legendary power recorded in the Uchiha clan's ancient texts—
The Mangekyō Sharingan.
His ocular power surged to its peak.
Still, he sensed nothing.
"Yes… or No?"
The voice in his mind seemed to lose patience, no longer repeating its earlier words.
"The future of the Uchiha…"
Outwardly, Shisui remained alert, carefully scanning the tent. But within, he was torn.
He thought of the internal strife within the clan.
He thought of the conflict between the clan and the Hokage.
He thought of the tension between the clan and the village civilians.
After a long silence, he slowly sheathed his blade. The Mangekyō faded from his eyes.
"If you can transmit a message without being detected even by these eyes… then I suppose I have no choice but to believe you."
For a shinobi, lowering one's guard was undeniably dangerous.
But he could not solve the rift between the clan and the village. Not alone.
And that helplessness weighed on him every waking moment.
If there was even the slightest possibility—
"Yes. Tell me the future of the Uchiha. Help me find my way!"
The words fell low and resolute.
A violent gust of wind suddenly tore through the tent. Darkness swallowed his vision.
When his sight returned—
He was standing in the Uchiha compound.
Night.
Heavy clouds.
Silence.
"Brother Hikaru! Clan Head! Elders!"
But what greeted him was not the familiar faces of his clansmen—
It was corpses.
Bodies lay scattered across the grounds, eyes gouged from their sockets.
Over a thousand clan members.
Blood flowed like rivers.
Elderly and children alike. Shinobi and civilians alike.
All lay cold and stiff in pools of crimson.
The vast Uchiha district—yet not a single living Uchiha remained.
Shisui stood frozen.
His eyes activated unconsciously.
"No… This isn't real. That's impossible…"
As long as he possessed these eyes—
Such a tragedy should never happen.
He took a step forward.
A familiar figure appeared before him.
Lonely.
And yet unfamiliar.
"Itachi…"
The scene shattered.
Shisui found himself back in his tent, staring blankly at the moonlight outside.
After a moment, his usual gentle expression returned.
"Itachi… It seems quite a lot has happened."
His voice was calm.
The vision had not revealed much, yet he had already guessed something of its meaning.
"But forcing others into submission with weapons… maintaining order through violence… that cannot truly be called peace."
Whatever lay ahead was a matter for the future.
He steadied himself and turned his gaze toward a translucent screen suspended in the air before him.
Points: 1
Strategist: None
The moment the panel appeared, he instinctively understood how to use it.
He could spend one point to summon a strategist.
Points would increase by one each year.
Points could also be used to strengthen a strategist's abilities.
"Please… help me find my way."
Shisui's expression turned solemn.
Even if he now knew the Uchiha's future, he still had no confidence in rebuilding the bridge between the clan and Konoha.
The point was consumed.
A faint glow gathered beneath the moonlight, gradually forming a human figure.
Moonlight cascaded over a tall, imposing frame.
His aura seemed frail, yet his eyes burned with vitality—sharp as an eagle's gaze.
Their eyes met.
In that instant, Shisui felt as if he were standing before countless armies, mountains of corpses, seas of blood.
It was as though he had been seen through entirely.
Not even when facing the Third Hokage had he felt such pressure.
It was not physical—
It was psychological.
The elderly man stood upright, hands clasped behind his back, calmly surveying his surroundings.
After a moment, he stroked his long beard and smiled.
"To think that after death, I would arrive in such a world. The vastness of existence is truly wondrous."
Shisui stepped forward respectfully.
"Sir…"
The old man studied Shisui's crimson eyes with interest.
"So you are Uchiha Shisui? What a fascinating clan."
"Yes, sir. May I ask your name?"
"Hahaha! I am Sima Yi, courtesy name Zhongda. Though it seems I am now a member of the Uchiha as well. Outside, you may call me Uchiha Yi. In private… you may call me Teacher."
Sima Yi smiled.
Before arriving in this world, he had already been informed that he now carried the bloodline of the Uchiha.
Having died once already, he found little reason to fuss over a change of surname.
Shisui's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Yes, Teacher!"
"Teacher… about the Uchiha and the village—"
Sima Yi raised a hand.
"No hurry. When facing great matters, one must calm the heart. Act not with impatience."
Shisui paused, then steadied himself.
"Yes, Teacher."
"Do you possess any historical texts?"
Sima Yi knew little of this world. Without information, he could offer no counsel.
"Historical texts?"
Shisui scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"There are some records of our clan's past in the compound… but I've never really read them."
"…You've never read them?"
Now it was Sima Yi's turn to be stunned.
According to the system's memories, the Uchiha were a great clan.
And a scion of such a clan did not read history?
"Then what have you studied?"
Surely not nothing but killing techniques?
That would make him little more than a blunt instrument.
Shisui thought for a moment.
"My grandfather left me 'Practical Applications of the Sharingan,' 'Comprehensive Genjutsu Compendium,' 'Advanced Ninja Tool Usage,' the clan's 'Basic Fire Release Essentials,' 'Intermediate Fire Release Essentials,' 'Human Anatomy Diagrams,' 'Trap Dismantling Techniques'…"
He listed books for nearly three minutes.
Without exception—
All were manuals of killing.
"…Shinobi."
Sima Yi shook his head.
From Shisui's education alone, he could already sense how peculiar this profession was.
"Oh! There's one more—the most important one."
Shisui's eyes brightened.
"The Third Hokage's 'Will of Fire.' I always carry it with me. Teacher, would you like to read it?"
He eagerly pulled a slightly worn book from his vest. It was clear the owner had read it many times.
"…Paper."
Sima Yi accepted the book without refusal.
With a soft sigh, he began reading carefully.
After only three pages, his brows knitted slightly.
Then his eyes moved swiftly across the text.
Within mere minutes, he had finished the entire volume.
He lifted his head.
His gaze sharpened, layered with meaning as he looked at Shisui.
"What do you think of this book?"
"Wherever the leaves of Konoha dance, the fire burns eternal. The light of the fire will continue to illuminate the village and allow new leaves to sprout."
Shisui's eyes shone.
"This is the will that the Third Hokage has always upheld—the Will of Fire. It is the hope for coexistence between Konoha and the Uchiha!"
He spoke with unmistakable excitement.
"It was inferior "Inferior even to the classics of my own era."
Sima Yi made his silent judgment.
But seeing Shisui's earnest expression, he did not voice it aloud.
"It is a fine book. It will prove most useful for our next steps."
When a leader's thoughts are recorded in writing, his persona becomes defined.
Especially when that man stands at the pinnacle of authority.
Words shape actions.
And actions can be turned to one's advantage.
"Right? That's what I said! The Third Hokage, who could write something like this—he will definitely help the Uchiha."
Encouraged by his teacher's acknowledgment, Shisui grew even more certain.
Sima Yi could only sigh softly, shaking his head.
"The way of surviving in this world… is the art of adaptation. How can one cling stubbornly to a single perspective?"
"…Huh? What does that mean?"