Uchiha's Restless Spirit

Uchiha's Restless Spirit

Deep inside a dimly lit secret cavern, an aged figure sat on a broad stone throne, with a plain-looking but seemingly razor-sharp scythe standing upside down beside him.

His gaze was fixed on the person who had entered—or rather, strictly speaking, on the little boy dangling from the newcomer's hand, whose life or death was unknown.

Only after sizing him up did the old man turn his one remaining eye back toward the "thing" he had created. He never said a word, but the eye clearly reflecting three tomoe seemed to exert an overwhelming pressure!

The newcomer was startled and hurriedly explained in a loud, boisterous voice, "I dealt with everyone who accidentally wandered into this area, but this child seems a little unusual. You ordered me to keep an eye out for 'seeds' with special talents recently, so I brought him back."

After hearing the explanation from the white-clad figure, the old man finally withdrew his stern gaze. The oppressive feeling filling the air vanished at once, and he once again looked like a guttering candle in the wind, as if he might expire at any moment.

"What sort of people were they? Did you clean up the trail?"

As the old man slowly spoke, the white-clad figure hurriedly replied, "They were shinobi from the Land of Earth. They seemed to be surrounding a nearby village. The battle situation has recently started shifting more and more in Konoha's favor, so who knows what vile scheme the people from the Land of Earth came up with this time to deal with Konoha..."

"Get to the point."

The old man interrupted the other's rambling the moment he heard the name Konoha.

The white-clad figure immediately shuddered and quickly picked out the important part. "Some people who escaped from a nearby village happened to be driven into this area by their pursuers. It should have been a coincidence. They didn't discover anything."

Only then did the old man nod. He did not ask how the white-clad figure had dealt with everyone after killing them all. If he could not even handle such a minor matter, it meant he had already lost his value.

"What about this child?"

The moment the child in his hand was mentioned, the white-clad figure immediately returned to his hyperactive nature. With exaggerated excitement, he said, "I had already caught everyone in one net, including the shinobi from the Land of Rocks and the villagers being hunted. Naturally, that included this child. But while I was cleaning up the battlefield, I suddenly discovered that the child wasn't dead. He had come back to life!"

"Out of curiosity, I examined him carefully again, but I couldn't find what had caused his fatal wounds to disappear and allowed him to survive. I thought Lord Madara might be interested in this child, so I brought him back."

Only after White Zetsu finished speaking did a trace of interest appear in the eyes of the old man known as Lord Madara.

As for White Zetsu slaughtering both sides that had trespassed into his territory, he did not find anything wrong with it. It was precisely what he had ordered.

Under normal circumstances, this child should not have survived either. White Zetsu certainly would not defy his will, nor would he deceive him.

In other words, everything White Zetsu had said was true.

White Zetsu had personally killed the child, only to discover while cleaning up the battlefield that the child had come back to life, with even his fatal wounds vanishing without a trace. That was why he had brought him back.

Interesting...

A slightly frightening smile appeared on Madara's aged face. He raised a hand and gestured for White Zetsu to bring the child over. He wanted to examine him thoroughly.

If he still had not found a suitable candidate by the day of his death, perhaps this child could offer him another choice.

It was just that the person who inherited his name, Madara, was not a member of the Uchiha clan. That was rather regrettable.

So he would wait a little longer...

Madara's sole remaining Sharingan—the transplanted one—seemed to pierce through the darkness, then through time and space, arriving in that prosperous village.

"Hashirama, I'll prove to you that the path you chose was utterly wrong."

"My head... hurts so much. Where... is this?"

In the darkness, a pair of eyes slowly opened. They seemed unaccustomed to the dim environment, and it took more than a minute before he could barely make out the things around him.

Before he could even speak, memories that did not belong to him began to surface, then merge together...

Several minutes later, he finally figured out what had happened to him.

"I never thought this clichéd transmigration plot could actually happen to me."

Through the few years of memories that had merged into his mind, he had more or less guessed which world he had transmigrated into.

Villages, shinobi, the Five Great Nations, chakra, ninjutsu...

Although this body was only four years old and had come from a small village, it still possessed some basic common knowledge.

After going through those memories, it was not difficult for him to deduce that the world he was currently in was probably that dangerous Naruto world!

As an ordinary man born in the 1990s who had occasionally read novels and watched anime, he was familiar with the famous trio of shonen manga—Bleach, Naruto, and One Piece. As for Naruto, which had already finished, he had naturally watched it from beginning to end.

What?

You're saying Naruto wasn't finished?

EMMMMMM...

Sorry, I really couldn't bring myself to watch Boruto. It completely ruined my worldview, so let's just forget it!

Before transmigrating, he himself had been just as unremarkable. He was not some king of soldiers, a great doctor, or a special agent. He was merely an ordinary man born in the 1990s, with divorced parents and a somewhat eccentric personality.

As for his final memories before transmigrating, they did not involve some cliché car accident, dying after drinking over a breakup, electrocution, or any other ridiculous cause.

In fact, it was rather absurd and terribly unlucky. It was already 2020, and he had not even had the chance to celebrate the Spring Festival. After only a few days of working as usual, he inexplicably caught a cold and was sent to the hospital.

But before he could figure out what was going on...

He opened his eyes again and found himself here.

It was truly lamentable...

The methods of transmigration seemed to be getting more and more casual. Even catching a cold could lead to transmigration. No wonder those failed authors had to eat steamed buns for every meal and could not even afford pickled mustard greens!

Fortunately, he did not have too many ties. His divorced parents had each started new families and had new children. Even without him, someone would take care of them in their old age and see them off after death.

As for romance, there was nothing worth clinging to either. He had been raised by his grandmother since childhood, and by the time he entered university, his grandmother had already...

He had had a girlfriend before. Combining several years of savings with more than a hundred thousand borrowed from others, he had barely managed to make a down payment on a house. Unfortunately, he had only paid the mortgage for one month and had never even gotten the chance to live there.

After hurriedly looking back over his life, he suddenly felt an indescribable sense of relief. Perhaps starting a new life would not be a bad thing.

"From today onward, I'll live on in your name, Shimiya Aoba."