Let's Go, Take Office in the Main God Space!

Late March, 58th year of Konoha.

It was the start of another school year, and the new generation born in the 51st year was officially enrolling.

"I must become the top student in the school, that way I can earn more recognition from Father and Brother~"

Little Sasuke clenched his fists, silently setting his resolve.

Meanwhile, in the forest downstream of the Naka River within the Uchiha clan grounds.

"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"

Snake-Ram-Monkey-Boar-Horse-Tiger; his fingers danced as chakra surged through his body along a specific path. At the peak of the flow, Uchiha Xiu suddenly opened his mouth.

His chest heaved violently, and a fireball erupted from his throat.

It swelled against the wind, rolling and expanding until the orange-red sphere reached a full five meters in diameter, slamming into the lake surface like a cannonball.

Boom!

The fireball exploded with a roar, killing the fish and shrimp swimming nearby as a massive cloud of steam billowed off the water.

With such power, let alone a human, even steel could be melted.

However, Uchiha Xiu, the caster of this signature Fire Style, showed no joy on his face.

"Today, Sasuke starts school."

"The Weasel... Itachi, has joined the Anbu."

"It signals that my death is drawing ever closer."

He leaped onto a large tree and looked toward the flock of crows taking flight deep in the forest, his heart heavy with gloom.

A Great Fireball of this scale would exhaust an ordinary genin, yet Uchiha Xiu still had plenty of reserves; he had only consumed about one-tenth of his chakra.

What did it mean to have the bloodline of a prestigious clan? At the same stage, he could... one-vs-seven against civilian ninja.

But within the Uchiha clan, he was merely a small-fry with a newly awakened one-tomoe Sharingan.

"Sigh, my talent is limited. According to the elders, if I grow normally, in another ten years I might scrape by as a Special Jonin, serving as a squad leader in the Konoha Military Police Force."

"But I won't live that long. Even with the overall combat ability of a chunin, and even after completing the promotion ceremony for team-leading ninja next week, what good is that against Kage-level powerhouses? I'll still be wiped out like a bug on the roadside, my eyes becoming someone else's trophy."

Thinking about it, Uchiha Xiu felt increasingly unwilling and anxious.

As a transmigrator living a second life in the Naruto world, who wouldn't have some ambition?

This was a world of chakra, where one could achieve longevity through cultivation, destroy stars, or even transcend the current universe.

That was until he realized he was nearly the same age as Itachi, leaving him very limited time to develop!

The Weasel would join the Anbu, and before long, he would collude with Uchiha Obito and the Konoha higher-ups to launch the clan massacre. No one would be spared, not the old, not the young, not even infants; only his younger brother, the Second Pillar, would be left to inherit the Sharingan bloodline.

To break this predetermined fate, he had been working hard on chakra extraction, tree climbing, and water walking since before he was of school age, desperate to reach Kage-level strength before the night of the massacre.

Yet, this was the result.

"Sigh, it's time to face reality. Once the promotion process is finished next week, I'll take a mission outside the village and, in the worst-case scenario, just run away."

"Worst comes to worst, this one will defect to Kumogakure!"

"The bloodline you don't cherish is something enemy nations are thirsty for..."

The mighty Raikage, combined with the perfect jinchuriki Killer B—that ace combination's strength was not to be underestimated; they should be able to protect him.

Lost in thought, Uchiha Xiu leaped a few times and returned to the clan grounds.

"Xiu, you're back early from morning training today. Why not come to my place for a bite?"

Uncle Shinichi from the tofu shop at the corner of the street leaned out, holding a bowl.

"Come on, while it's hot."

Uchiha Xiu stopped and shook his head, politely declining the kindness.

"No need, Uncle Shinichi. The instant noodles I bought last time are about to expire, I need to finish them. Maybe next time."

"Alright, then in two days, come over for sukiyaki." Uncle Shinichi smiled and urged, "Don't push yourself too hard with the training, remember to rest~"

"I know." Uchiha Xiu felt a complex mix of emotions as he continued walking forward.

On a nearby patch of grass, several three or four-year-old children were practicing shuriken under the sun.

Suddenly, a kunai that missed its target flew through the air and thudded into the ground right beside him.

"Big Brother Xiu!" The child who had missed ran over, face flushed red. "I-I'm sorry!"

"Keep your wrist steadier." Uchiha Xiu bent down to pull the kunai from the ground. "Don't rush to exert force; aim carefully before you throw, like this."

As he spoke, he demonstrated once.

The kunai sliced through the air and struck the red bullseye fifty paces away with precision.

The little ones let out gasps of awe, having never seen such a feat.

They looked at Uchiha Xiu with bright, shining eyes—a gaze that reminded him of himself many years ago, looking up at the powerful seniors of the clan in the exact same way.

"Big Brother Xiu is so amazing! I want to be just like you in the future! I'll definitely awaken my eyes within two years of graduating from the Ninja Academy!"

Uchiha Xiu sighed inwardly, handed the kunai back, and took the opportunity to ruffle the little brat's slightly prickly hair.

What was so impressive about it? He had only awakened a single tomoe after experiencing despair during a mission and sacrificing two comrades with whom he shared a bond.

Sigh, eyes cursed to gain love only to lose it...

"Shinichi, stop playing and come back for dinner~"

Just as he was thinking this, his mother's voice calling her child home drifted from afar.

These were the people bound together by clan emblems and bloodlines.

Paranoid, proud, and fiercely protective, they reserved their best sides for their own kin.

Yet, the warm home that accompanied his new life was ticking down toward that blood-soaked moonlit night.

The voices of the weak could not reach the ears of the strong; after realizing he lacked the power to strengthen himself, he had actually tried to correct the extremist views of Shisui and Itachi, but the effect was zero.

Between them stood a pathetic, thick barrier.

The prerequisite for "Talk no Jutsu" to be effective was that you had to be able to knock the other person down with a "Friendship Face-Breaking Fist"; otherwise, no matter how eloquently you spoke, others would only treat it as hot air.

Creak.

The courtyard gate pushed open.

Uchiha Xiu returned to his small home on the north side of the settlement, leaped through the window into his second-floor bedroom, and skillfully turned on his computer.

The folder created on the desktop bore the name of the ninja world's latest bestseller:

Young Obito

"Young Obito's grades at the Ninja Academy are not ideal"—this sentence had recently left a deep impression on the minds of powerful ninjas like Jiraiya and Kakashi.

Some believed it to be a cutting-edge work that completely surpassed Icha Icha Paradise.

"Hmm, sixteen thousand ryo left from my parents' death benefits."

"One million nine hundred and fifty thousand ryo in royalties."

"It's enough to hire a Jonin-level rogue ninja to act out a scene with me, and leave enough silver at home to mislead the village's higher-ups, causing them to form a misjudgment..."

To be honest, Uchiha Xiu never worried that the rogue ninjas he hired would suddenly raise their prices or take the money without doing the job.

Even for major villains of the caliber of Kakuzu or Zabuza, as long as they accepted a mission, they would follow orders with professional integrity.

It was one of the unique characteristics of this world.

Perhaps it was a mental imprint disciplined into them over a thousand years, just as the Kage of a village, who held the strongest armed forces in the nation, often remained humble before the noble factions led by the Daimyo, helplessly accepting the reality of having their finances throttled.

"Now, to begin forging the posthumous manuscript."

"Once the plan succeeds, the story of Obito can no longer be written; I'll need a new alias to keep making money later!"

"At that time, I'll adapt the story of Long Tao."

The moment his finger touched the mouse, a strange palpitation made him pause.

[Do you want to understand the meaning of life? Do you want to... truly live?]

[YES or NO]

A crude virus pop-up window appeared.

Something outside of his plan had emerged.