The Old Scoundrel, You're Dead!

# Chapter 3: Old Bastard, You're Dead!

Shimiya Aoba had no idea that while he was unconscious, Madara had already examined his memories once, and even less did he know that Madara had only seen the residual memories left in this body, failing to see the past-life memories blocked by the system—otherwise he wouldn't have been so terrified.

But after forcing himself to calm down, he suddenly thought that the situation might not be so bad.

After all, in this body he was nothing but a four-year-old brat. Madara might not truly believe what he thought, and certainly wouldn't take him seriously.

And that was an opportunity, an advantage!

So Shimiya Aoba, keeping his body trembling and stiff, spoke uneasily: "You are... Lord Shinigami, right?"

As he spoke, he secretly shifted his gaze to the scythe standing nearby.

Just as expected!

None of this escaped Madara's remaining eye. He put away the suspicion etched into his bones, thinking to himself what was wrong with him—why would a child's surprised look make him think of that? It seemed he really was getting old.

"I am not Shinigami. I merely saved you from a group of ninja, but unfortunately, I could only save you alone."

Watching Madara 'perform' there, Shimiya Aoba didn't believe the truth was anything like that, but the final memories in this body were indeed of his mother fleeing with him, escaping a group of ninja pursuers, while his father had already been killed in the village protecting him and his mother.

As for what happened after, he only remembered a sharp pain shooting through his body, and then the whole world went completely dark.

He must have been attacked at that time, and his clothes were tattered, but why was there not a single injury on his body now?

Pushing these thoughts aside, Shimiya Aoba decided he needed to get through this immediate situation first.

So he said thank you, then his expression dimmed, as if recalling something utterly despairing, sorrowful, and terrifying.

"It's too early to say thank you. I will have you properly repay this debt." Madara had no mood to comfort this little brat; instead, he stated a fact in a flat tone.

But this was Madara's true nature!

Saving people out of kindness with no expectation of return?

That was the kind of foolishness Senju Hashirama would do!

If he, Uchiha Madara, ever saved someone, it was always for some purpose or benefit!

Such a straightforward demand for repayment actually made Shimiya Aoba relax. It seemed this old monster had no intention of abandoning or killing him, but planned to use him.

For someone who was currently powerless, someone any random mountain bandit could crush with one hand, this was undoubtedly the best news!

He had to cling to this temporary thick thigh and see if he could squeeze out some benefits, since he couldn't help the other party with anything right now.

As for that seemingly impossible task, he had already made some calculations in his mind and found a direction, though it would require a long wait.

So for now, being able to stay and survive was the most important thing!

Shimiya Aoba immediately nodded. "I will definitely repay this debt. What do I need to do?"

"You are still too weak now. Stay here as a servant first. When the time is right, I will tell you how to repay this debt."

Madara didn't elaborate, and Shimiya Aoba didn't ask further.

Because he was afraid that if he asked a few more questions, he would get dragged into that damn Moon Eye Plan!

Let that crazy plan be left for the kid Obito. Right now, he just wanted to smoothly activate his cheat system, then outlive Madara. Once that happened, the whole world would be open to him!

Dominate the ninja world?

Go head-to-head with the Otsutsuki clan?

Forget it!

That wasn't his style.

But he didn't know yet that this shitty system would completely wreck the life he was planning now!

Over the next six months, Shimiya Aoba actively integrated into his new life.

When Madara said to be a servant, he really treated him like a servant!

Every day, serving tea, fetching water, and cleaning were his jobs.

And originally, none of these tasks were even necessary!

As for the promised thigh-clinging, the promised early investment—there wasn't even a ghost of it!

Not to mention chakra training methods, even the most basic taijutsu or exercise routines, Madara hadn't taught him.

A few times he couldn't help but ask, only to be told by Madara that it wasn't time yet...

At those moments, he really wanted to curse!

He wished he could immediately pull out Madara's 'oxygen tube' and make this old bastard drop dead on the spot!

But after weighing the power difference and his own capabilities, he helplessly gave up.

Anyway, that day would come sooner or later. Little master wasn't in a hurry—let this old thing bounce around a while longer.

However, losing in one place, he gained in another. His thigh-clinging plan had made no progress, but he had gotten along well with that erratic White Zetsu—if you could tolerate several clones chattering endlessly at you without stopping...

Oh, right.

His daily meals were all brought back by White Zetsu from outside, usually wild fruits and vegetables. Occasionally, some unlucky beast would stumble into the vicinity, improving their diet. And he had been mocked for quite a while because of this, since neither Madara nor the artificial human White Zetsu needed to eat.

But inexplicably, White Zetsu seemed extremely interested in the topic of "poop." He once pestered Aoba for fifteen straight days, asking, "What exactly does the urge to defecate feel like?"

He even tried to sneak a peek while Aoba was doing his business...

This nearly drove Aoba to the brink of collapse, making him wish he could pull out a forty-meter-long blade and chop that bastard to pieces first!

Later, he spent a huge amount of effort just to divert that guy's attention, barely escaping the calamity of losing his "rear-end security."

"That dying golden thigh can't be clung to, but getting on good terms with the future Akatsuki intelligence liaison isn't bad either."

With no other choice, Shimiya Aoba could only console himself like this.

At least Black Zetsu hadn't been released by that Madara guy yet, or else he'd have one more headache to deal with.

One day, Aoba, as usual, finished his assigned tasks and lay on the bed staring into space, wondering when this kind of life would ever come to an end.

But just then, a violent tremor instantly shook the entire secret base.

"Little White, what's happening? Is it an earthquake?"

Aoba immediately shouted toward the empty space ahead of him.

Then, a white figure about his size suddenly emerged from the wall. This Little White was also one of White Zetsu's clones, specially crafted for him... a "playmate"?

"It's not an earthquake. A rock collapse happened above one of the tunnels. Two groups of ninjas are fighting outside. The other clones are checking the situation, and new intel will come back soon," said Little White, who looked a bit like "Nezha the Demon Child."

Ninjas fighting?

A rock collapse on the tunnel?

Could it be...

Was this day finally here?

Shimiya Aoba racked his brain to recall the plot of "Old Madara" meeting Obito, and then his eyes lit up, as if he finally saw hope of completing the mission and activating his golden finger.

And during the half year he'd been stuck here, he hadn't just sat around doing nothing. At least after getting on good terms with White Zetsu, he'd managed to pry out a lot of outside intelligence.

Of course, these moves definitely couldn't be hidden from that old geezer, but he'd never planned to hide them from the start. After all, his current body posed absolutely no threat and was highly deceptive.

A little brat with nothing to do all day, extremely curious about everything outside—so what? Got a problem with that?

It was perfectly reasonable!

So from what he'd gathered, the Kannabi Bridge battle wasn't far off. Counting the time, what was supposed to happen should be coming soon.

Heh heh, as long as that poor kid Obito showed up, how far off could the old man's final arrangements be?

That "oxygen tube," this young master was definitely pulling it out!

PS: Alright, I'll drop the act. I'm coming clean! After resting for a month and then catching the new pneumonia thing, I could only stay home, and it was seriously boring!!! So I glanced at my outline and the four or five chapters of backlog, and on a whim, I uploaded the new book. Hope everyone can support me—I can't miss out on collections, recommendation votes, any of it. Okay, okay, okay!