At the end of a long street in the Uchiha Compound, Shisui stood quietly, blood dripping from the Short Blade in his hand.
Draped in a black cloak trimmed with gold and wearing a mask patterned with flames, he looked like a true demon of slaughter, radiating an icy aura that warned all living things to keep their distance!
Fully armed Uchiha clan members lay sprawled across the entire street. Pools of gruesome blood covered the ground, and the air reeked of the stench of blood.
"Damn it..."
"Ah, my leg..."
"Our Uchiha Clan won't let you get away with this..."
Though weak, curses and wails rose one after another.
Clearly, many of the Uchiha lying on the ground were not dead. Most had merely been severely wounded and lost the ability to move. Those who had truly been slain were actually few in number.
Shisui felt little stir within his heart as he listened to the curses around him, because this was both what Hyuga Kagami had ordered and what he himself wanted.
For one, he did not want to kill too many of his clansmen. For another, if they were all dead, how could the God Organization draw their hatred? How could it make the clan realize its own weakness?
With that purpose in mind, he carried his dripping Short Blade and patrolled the street. Wherever he went, the cursing weakened a little further.
The injured Uchiha on the ground were not idiots. When others held the knife and they were the fish on the chopping block, there were not many fools who would still indulge their tempers just for a momentary verbal thrill.
But humiliation and hatred were taking root in the hearts of these proud Uchiha.
Though the village had done everything it could to ostracize