Immortal

Was he, Uchiha Itachi, truly someone who had experienced everything and still refused to repent?

The young Itachi looked at his older self, hoping he could say more—why the war had happened, who had died, who was still alive...

But when he shifted his gaze over, he found that his older self remained silent and lowered his head again.

He had no way to refute what Sarada had said. The trash was there; if no one swept it away, it would never leave on its own.

Those stubborn old ninja and those indulgent Daimyo were the same. Without war, no one would obediently surrender the power in their hands, and peace would never come.

Uchiha Itachi wanted to ask what the price would be.

But he knew Sarada had likely already thought of the answer. The lives of those obstinate people were probably the only price.

Since members of the Uchiha Clan could be revived, then the innocent people who died in the war, as well as the Konoha ninja who died, could probably be revived as well.

At last, he had nothing more to say. He could only stand there in a daze, just like his other self.

Then, he suddenly thought of something and shook his head sharply, clarity returning to his eyes.

He had already seen the fate of his future self. He should have changed it, but what could he change? The first thing he needed to do was simply leave this place.

"Forget it. You're my uncle. No matter what you've done, you're still a member of the Uchiha Clan."

"You can never shake off that name, nor can you escape your bloodline."

"I should have known how proud and stubborn the people of this clan are." Sarada waved her hand, clearly giving up on