What... Was I About to Do?

Uzuki's foot slammed into the stone door. It crashed against the wall, sending fragments of rock and dust tumbling down.

Like a furious gale, he stormed into the dark, damp underground chamber, thick with the stench of chemicals and blood.

His gaze immediately fixed on the figure he hated with every fiber of his being—Orochimaru.

The man who lorded it over Root on the strength of being the Third's student was standing with his back to Uzuki, studying something with keen interest.

Before Orochimaru, a frail figure was bound to a specially made chair. It was his younger brother, Yakushi Jiro.

A wave of scorching rage surged from Uzuki's chest to his head.

Jiro was just a medical ninja, a support operative who couldn't even perform a decent offensive ninjutsu! And that bastard Orochimaru had dragged him here on the ridiculous charge of "betraying the village"!

Unforgivable!

Absolutely unforgivable!

"Orochimaru!" Uzuki's voice rasped with fury as he stepped into the lab, each footfall like a beat in the rhythm of his hatred. "You despicable coward! How dare you lay a hand on my brother..."

But before he could finish, the words caught in his throat.

Orochimaru slowly turned around. His pale, bloodless face showed not the slightest surprise or alarm.

Orochimaru didn't even give Uzuki a proper look. He simply smiled with amusement and asked Sawada Hiroki in a casual, conversational tone, "You don't seem surprised to see him. Did you notice him a while ago?"

The boy called Hiroki merely nodded, calm as ever, as if Uzuki's intrusion were no more than a fly that had wandered into the lab during an experiment.

"Would you like me to take care of him?" Orochimaru asked.

The question landed like an invisible slap across Uzuki's face.

Take care of him?

Who was he talking about?

Uzuki felt as though his blood were about to boil.

He was Root's elite, Lord Danzo's most trusted sensor ninja. He had spent more than a decade moving through Konoha's shadows, carrying out countless assassination and infiltration missions. And now, in the middle of these two men's conversation, he had become a nuisance they needed to "take care of"?

He had never experienced humiliation this profound, this deep in his bones.

They were just like those self-important samurai lords who lived in the sunlight, looking down with natural arrogance on ninjas like them, who licked their wounds in the shadows. They neither understood nor cared to understand the cruelty and laws of the ninja world.

The boy called Hiroki didn't answer. He simply raised a hand and formed a seal.

With a soft pop, a cloud of white smoke burst beside him, and an identical copy appeared.

A Shadow Clone?

Uzuki's pupils contracted slightly. What was he trying to do?

For a moment, an utterly absurd thought even crossed Uzuki's mind—was he planning to fight him with a clone?

Impossible!

What contempt!

He felt the rage in his chest about to burst, but the composure he had cultivated in Root over the years, as instinctive as breathing, was supplanted by an even stranger emotion. A... pride that belonged to the strong, absolute and unquestionable.

Like a samurai!

He would teach them manners and make them respect him!

The thought sprang without warning from the depths of his mind.

Yes, manners. These people didn't even understand basic courtesy.

In the presence of someone as powerful as him, they should be afraid. They should be on their knees, begging for mercy, not chatting as if he weren't even there.

He raised both hands. Pure chakra gathered in his palms, compressed, and instantly formed two scalpel-thin blades that gleamed a ghostly green.

This was his signature technique. Countless enemies had died beneath these seemingly fragile scalpels.

But he didn't charge at once.

His body seemed to act of its own accord. Still gripping the scalpels, he lifted his chin slightly and spoke coldly, in a tone of condescending judgment, as if passing sentence on a criminal. "You people... don't even understand basic courtesy?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Uzuki himself froze.

Strange.

This way of thinking... It was so strange.

Root's creed was "no name, no emotion, no self." The mission was everything. When facing an enemy, he should eliminate them as quickly and efficiently as possible,

not waste time taunting them. This attitude was more like that of a samurai who had to recite a few lines about family honor before a duel.

Why... was he thinking this way?

A barely perceptible confusion, like a grain of sand tossed into a lake, sent ripples through his calm thoughts.

But before he could examine it, the anger of being slighted swept over him again, completely drowning out the strange feeling.

He was Lord Danzo's greatest sensor ninja! Root's blade! He had every right—and every reason—to make these arrogant fools understand what kind of person they were facing before they died!

Orochimaru, who had remained motionless at the side, narrowed his golden, serpentine eyes. His gaze lingered on Uzuki for a moment, and the amusement in his pale face deepened.

Interesting.

Orochimaru stopped looking at Uzuki. Instead, his gaze fell on the unnaturally calm Hiroki.

Uzuki had run out of patience.

He said nothing more. His body surged forward, shattering the stone floor beneath his feet. His form blurred through the dim lab, and the two Chakra Scalpels in his hands carved twin lethal arcs through the air, aimed straight at Hiroki's Shadow Clone.

A Shadow Clone?

Why was he attacking the Shadow Clone instead of the real one?

Faced with the lightning-fast attack, Hiroki's Shadow Clone simply watched him calmly, took a deep breath, and rapidly formed Hand Seals.

"Wind Style: Vacuum Sphere!"

The Shadow Clone opened his mouth and fired several highly compressed air bullets, almost solid in appearance, one after another. They shrieked through the air toward Uzuki.

"Pathetic trick!"

Uzuki sneered inwardly.

A ninjutsu of this caliber wasn't even worth a tickle.

His speed didn't falter. The Chakra Scalpels in his hands flashed with precision at a speed beyond ordinary vision. Swish! Swish! Swish! The crisp sound of slicing filled the lab. The air bullets, powerful enough to punch through steel plates, were as fragile as soap bubbles before his blades. He split each one cleanly down the middle, scattering them into harmless currents of air.

Too weak.

This kid wasn't worth mentioning.

The moment he split the last Vacuum Sphere, Uzuki's eyes were already fixed on the Shadow Clone, now just a short distance away.

His mind raced, mapping out his next move: his left-hand scalpel would slash across to block the opponent's escape, while the blade in his right hand would thrust straight through his heart. The whole thing would take less than a tenth of a second.

But at the very instant he was about to carry out this perfect plan—

His mind... stalled.

Like a machine running at full speed that had suddenly been unplugged.

The tactical instructions that had been crystal clear a moment ago became an incomprehensible blank.

What... was I about to do?

The next moment, a wind bullet had already pierced his chest.