Uchiha Naro

"Sharingan!?"

The crowd inside the Bounty Exchange stared at the blood-red eyes revealed beneath the cloak, too shocked to speak.

At this moment, over a dozen people were gathered in the hall, including rogue ninja, bandit leaders, down-and-out samurai, and several mysterious figures of unknown origin.

They all fixed their gazes on the woman in the black cloak standing at the entrance.

The woman was tall, her cloak obscuring most of her face, leaving only her eyes exposed.

Blood-red eyes.

A Sharingan pattern that no one recognized.

"A survivor of the Uchiha?" A bald, burly man stood up, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, his eyes filled with greed. "The bounty Konoha has placed on the Uchiha clan members is quite high these days..."

The woman glanced at him, saying nothing.

But that single glance made the bald man feel as if he had been doused with a bucket of ice water, chilling him from head to toe.

What kind of look was that?

Cold, indifferent, as if she were looking at a dead man.

The bald man's hand froze on his hilt, not daring to move further.

The woman withdrew her gaze and pulled a cloth bag from her cloak, tossing it onto the counter. The bag landed with a dull thud, filled entirely with scrolls.

"I am placing a commission." The woman's voice was cold, devoid of any emotion. "Deliver these intelligence scrolls to the various ninja clans within the Five Great Shinobi Nations, as well as to Amegakure and several other hidden villages."

The proprietor behind the counter was a gaunt, elderly man with one blind eye and a scar running from his forehead to his chin.

He opened the bag and took out a scroll, but did not unroll it; he knew the rules—some things were better left unseen if one wanted to keep their life.

"How will the payment be handled?"

"I trust that your Bounty Exchange can verify whether the commission has been completed." The woman tossed another scroll onto the counter. "The money inside is the payment; you may arrange the specifics."

The proprietor was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "The commission is accepted."

The woman turned to leave, but suddenly stopped, speaking with her back to everyone: "Those who follow me will die."

With that, she walked out. She released a powerful aura that left everyone in the hall gasping for air; that aura carried killing intent, the scent of blood, and an overwhelming sense of oppression.

No one dared to move until she had stepped out the door, at which point the pressure vanished.

The bald man collapsed back into his chair, his back soaked through with cold sweat.

"Damn it... what kind of monster was that..."

"At least a Jonin, no—stronger than a Jonin," someone nearby muttered.

"What did she say? That following her means death?"

"You're welcome to try if you don't believe her."

The bald man shook his head. "I haven't lived long enough yet."

Yet, a few remained unconvinced. Two rogue ninja and a bandit leader quietly slipped out, while the others exchanged glances and stayed put.

From that day on, the Bounty Exchange never saw those few men again...

In the capital of the Land of Fire, a luxurious noble estate stood, belonging to a confidant of the Daimyo. It occupied a vast area with deep, sprawling courtyards.

In a remote corner of the estate's deepest reaches lived several "guests."

Ever since the owner had hosted these "guests," everyone in the noble mansion seemed to have been hexed; they had completely forgotten that area existed. Even when passing by, they would unconsciously ignore it, as if their own minds were telling them there was nothing there—it was a "blank" space.

At this moment, in the courtyard, Uchiha Naro sat cross-legged on a cushion beneath the veranda, a black banner floating before him.

Ghost Bone Banner.

The banner was pitch black, embroidered with dense white runes that looked as if they were pieced together from individual bones.

Surrounding the banner, twelve soul entities drifted—all vengeful spirits of the Uchiha clan. They formed a circle, hands pressed together, chanting incantations that were impossible to decipher. Wisps of black energy drifted from their bodies, absorbed by the banner.

The white runes on the banner glowed faintly as they absorbed the black mist, flickering like a steady breath.

Naro kept his eyes closed, his hands locked in a strange seal, his lips moving in a rhythmic chant.

Refining the Ghost Bone Banner would not normally be so taxing, but the Uchiha massacre had yielded too many vengeful spirits. Even with Uchiha Shisui bearing the side effects, Naro still needed to use twelve spirits simultaneously to assist in the refinement.

As these twelve spirits assisted in the process, they were forced to relive their deaths over and over, a burden that Naro had to endure himself.

However, he had no choice, as the Ghost Bone Banner was one of the most suitable magical artifacts he could currently forge, and it would be one of his primary means of survival in the future—after all, the materials available in this ninja world for crafting such artifacts were truly scarce.

"Master."

A woman's voice drifted from the courtyard entrance.

Naro did not open his eyes, merely saying faintly, "Enter."

The woman in the black cloak walked into the courtyard and removed her hood, revealing a gentle yet resolute face—Uchiha Mikoto.

The mother of Itachi and Sasuke, and the wife of Uchiha Fugaku. The Konoha Anbu were scouring the world for her, believing she had perished on the night of the massacre, but she had not.

She had been taken away by Naro, along with her son, Uchiha Sasuke.

"Is the mission complete?" Naro asked.

"It is." Mikoto knelt on the veranda, reporting respectfully, "The commission has been posted to the Bounty Exchange. Dozens of intelligence scrolls will be delivered to the various clans within the Five Great Shinobi Nations, including the Hyuga, the Ino-Shika-Cho, the Yotsuki clan of the Cloud, and the Two-Scale clan of the Stone, among others."

"Were there any tails?"

"A few, but they have been dealt with."

"Your use of the Sharingan is becoming increasingly proficient." Naro opened his eyes and glanced at Mikoto.

Mikoto lowered her head. "It is thanks to your wise guidance, Master."

"And Sasuke?" Naro stood up, retracted the twelve vengeful spirits back into the banner, stored the Ghost Bone Banner within his purple mansion, walked to the stone table in the courtyard, sat down, and poured himself a cup of tea.

"He is practicing shurikenjutsu."

"How is he progressing?"

"He is working very hard," Mikoto said. "But he is still too young—only six years old. There are many ninjutsu he cannot yet learn."

"No rush, take it slow." Naro took a sip of tea. "Your son has excellent talent. Not to mention the aid of that ancient power within him; as long as he is nurtured properly, he will not be inferior to Itachi in the future."

At the mention of Itachi, a flicker of pain crossed Mikoto's eyes.

"Master, Itachi, he..."

"He is doing well." Naro interrupted her. "He is currently undercover in an organization called the Akatsuki. He is living just fine. You need not worry."

Mikoto lowered her head and asked no more.

"That will be all. Go and rest." Naro waved his hand, signaling for Mikoto to leave. "You may teach Sasuke some new ninjutsu as well. The Uchiha's Fire Style must not be lost."

"Yes." Mikoto stood up, then hesitated. "Master, could you spare Sasuke from having to execute Itachi? I could do it in his stead; I am an Uchiha clansman as well..."

"This is their shared destiny," Naro said. "Even without my intervention, Uchiha Itachi would have left only Sasuke alive."

He took a gentle sip of his clear tea.

"I took you to see the stone tablet in the underground chamber of Naka Shrine. Regardless of the circumstances, one of them must sacrifice everything for the other... otherwise, both will end up... This is the price of the power the Uchiha ancestors left for the Uchiha clan... You may choose to pay this price in place of either one of them."

He turned around to look at Mikoto.

"But would that truly help Sasuke? You know that the soul of an Uchiha ancestor resides within Sasuke's body. Your role is to seal the evil that has manipulated the Uchiha clan for generations, to grant Sasuke a true future, rather than a life manipulated by others from the shadows..."

Mikoto nodded, her expression weary. After awakening her Mangekyo Sharingan, she had gone to see the stone tablet passed down through the Uchiha clan and learned of the Mangekyo Sharingan's drawbacks. Furthermore, with Naro's help, she had sensed the special aura lurking in the depths of Sasuke's soul. What she needed most was to help Sasuke resolve the hidden dangers of that aura...

Mikoto bowed and turned to leave.

She walked out of the courtyard, followed the corridor, and arrived at another small garden.

A boy stood in the center of the yard, holding a kunai, practicing against a target ahead. He had black hair and black eyes, a delicate face, and a focused gaze.

It was Uchiha Sasuke.

He was only six years old, yet he had been forced to accept that his brother had led others to slaughter his clan. Before he had even grown up, his heart was already filled with hatred.

The kunai flew from his hand and struck the dead center of the target.

"Not bad," Mikoto said as she walked in. "Do it again."

Sasuke turned back, and upon seeing his mother, a long-absent smile appeared on his face: "Mother!"

"Don't smile, focus on your practice." Mikoto kept a straight face, though her eyes were filled with tenderness. "An Uchiha ninja cannot rely only on kunai. Today, Mother will teach you a new Fire Style ninjutsu."

"What ninjutsu?" Sasuke's two-tomoe Sharingan eyes were filled with anticipation.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu," Mikoto said. "The signature ninjutsu of the Uchiha clan."

"Really? That's great!"

Sasuke nodded happily. He knew he was still young and could not learn high-level ninjutsu, but he carried the hatred of the Uchiha clan on his shoulders; he needed to grow as quickly as possible.

As long as the murderer who wiped out the Uchiha clan remained alive, he could not rest for a single day.

Every night when he slept alone, Sasuke's mind would replay the miserable state of the Uchiha clansmen before their deaths, as seen within the long banner Naro held—especially those children and infants even younger than himself... He could never forgive those people, not even his own brother...

"Mother, teach me."

Mikoto looked at her son, her heart aching.

"Watch closely." Mikoto formed the hand seals. "Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

She took a deep breath and exhaled.

A massive fireball erupted from her mouth, rushing toward the target on the other side of the yard.

"BOOM—"

The target was blasted to pieces, and the wall was scorched black.

Mikoto ended the jutsu and patted her son's head. "Practice the hand seals first, then I will teach you the chakra circulation path."

"I will learn it as quickly as I can!" Sasuke clenched his fists.

Mikoto smiled and said nothing.

Back in Naro's courtyard, he sat back down on his meditation cushion and continued to refine the Ghost Bone Banner.

He closed his eyes, multitasking as he refined the banner while his mind began to recall the experiences of his earlier years.

Or rather, the origin of these three souls—the soul of Uchiha Naro, fused from three distinct parts—

The primary part, and also the strongest, is the demonic cultivator Zhang Hongchen.

He hailed from a Great Thousand World among the myriad heavens. That world had reached its end, and the Immeasurable Calamity of Annihilation was about to descend.

The so-called Immeasurable Calamity of Annihilation meant the total destruction of the entire world, reducing it to nothingness. All living beings, regardless of strength or morality, would be reduced to dust within the catastrophe.

In order to seek a way to survive and overcome the calamity, the great powers of that world made a mad decision: to publish all the cultivation techniques, divine abilities, and secret arts of every faction, whether righteous or demonic, whether from prestigious sects or heretical paths.

Everything was made public.

They gathered the wisdom of the entire world, searching for that single glimmer of hope.

It was against this backdrop that Zhang Hongchen rose to prominence. He had originally been a moderately famous demonic cultivator with decent talent, though not top-tier, but he seized the opportunity during this wave of "universal cultivation."

He collected the wisdom of a hundred schools, studied countless techniques and abilities, and combined them with a unique trait of his own—his soul was born with a slight affinity for "time and space"—to create a forbidden technique.

The Supreme Scripture of Causality and Deliverance.

This technique gathered the essence of the wisdom of his Great Thousand World; it was all-encompassing, profound, and unfathomable.

Its core was an exotic polyhedron of "time and space"—"Causality"—planting a cause to reap a result, transforming a result into a cause, like an Ouroboros constantly devouring itself in a cycle of cause and effect.

The practitioner could invert causality, alter destiny, reverse life and death, and even traverse time and space.

Zhang Hongchen spent countless years finally creating the first half of this technique. Just as he was preparing to write and perfect the subsequent parts, time ran out.

The Immeasurable Calamity of Annihilation began to erupt. First came the Five Decays of Heaven and Man targeting cultivators, followed by the exhaustion of spiritual energy, the mutation of living beings, the shattering of reincarnation, and subsequently, the collapse of the Heavenly Dao and the chaos of laws... countless great powers fell from the firmament, their corpses littering the wild...

Zhang Hongchen had no choice but to make a desperate gamble before the final power of annihilation descended: he attempted a space-time traversal.

He succeeded.

From a world on the brink of destruction, he twisted causality, reversed time and space, and traveled to another world.

But he also failed. Because during the traversal, his physical body was pulverized in the turbulence of time and space, leaving only his soul.

Although he had considered these problems beforehand and had even forcibly sealed the essence blood of many innate great powers into his soul before his desperate gamble, he had exhausted his preparations during the journey, and his soul had suffered heavy damage. If he could not find a suitable body, he would soon dissipate.

Just as he was in a critical situation, he inexplicably sensed another soul.

The owner of that soul was named Zhang Hongchen.

A terminal cancer patient, an orphan without parents. Before dying, he did not want to wait for death in a hospital ward; he wanted to see the world, he wanted to return "home"—the orphanage where he had grown up.

He pulled out his tubes, dragged his painful body, and walked out of the hospital. He took a bus, watched the street scenes, ate at a roadside stall, and bought an ice cream.

He acted like a normal person, but he was no longer normal. The cancer had spread throughout his body; every breath he took tasted of blood, and every step he took felt like walking on the edge of a knife.

He gritted his teeth, endured the pain, and finally collapsed when he reached the gate of the orphanage.

The elderly guard recognized him and wanted to call an ambulance.

But he refused.

"Let me... sit for a while." He leaned against the wall by the orphanage gate, gasping for air, "Just a while..."

Sitting there, watching the children playing inside the orphanage, he smiled.

"Being alive... is truly wonderful..."

Then he closed his eyes.

The moment his soul left his body, Zhang Hongchen's soul sensed him.

The two souls, drawn by an inexplicable force, met in the turbulence of time and space. Zhang Hongchen wanted to seize Zhang Hongchen's body, occupy his soul, and recover his own injuries.

But although Zhang Hongchen's soul was weak, it possessed something indescribable. He was now half a transmigrator; his soul came from another world, carrying the "information" of that world.

The two souls entangled, devouring and fusing with each other.

Just then, the residual traversal power of Zhang Hongchen was activated.

Because Zhang Hongchen was also enduring the continuous, lingering pain before death—a kind of pain that Zhang Hongchen, the demonic cultivator, had never experienced. He had always been the one to inflict pain on others; no one had ever been able to cause him such suffering...

Now, it truly hurt to the soul.

This pain ignited the power of traversal, carrying both souls to continue traveling, flying through countless worlds, passing through countless time and spaces. Finally, the traversal power was exhausted, and the two souls fell into the Naruto world.

They entered the body of an infant who had just been born.

Uchiha Naro.

The infant was very quiet, neither crying nor making a fuss, sleeping in the cradle.

The three souls—the demonic cultivator Zhang Hongchen, the mortal Zhang Hongchen, and the infant Naro—began to fuse under the combined effect of the space-time aftermath of the traversal power and the innate energy the infant still carried from birth.

During the fusion of the three souls, the soul power and emotional power of Zhang Hongchen and Zhang Hongchen stimulated the deepest power of Naro's Uchiha body—the Sharingan.

This infant body activated the Sharingan shortly after birth, and in the blink of an eye, it went from one tomoe... to two tomoe... to three tomoe... to Mangekyo... finally settling at the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan.

Zhang Hongchen's consciousness was the most resilient; he had lived for who knows how many years, experienced the terror of the Immeasurable Calamity of Annihilation, the madness of creating the Supreme Scripture of Causality and Deliverance, and the thrill of space-time traversal.

His will was as hard as steel.

Therefore, he became the primary consciousness.

Although Zhang Hongchen's consciousness was weak, he had experienced the pain of life and death, the loneliness of being an orphan without parents, the attachment to the world before death, and the hopelessness of having his soul seized after death.

His emotions were as scorching as a raging fire.

Zhang Hongchen's consciousness entered the right eye of his Eternal Mangekyou—Heavenly Eternal Presence.

The consciousness of the infant Naro was the purest of all, devoid of hatred or desire, possessing only instinct.

His purity was as clear as water.

His consciousness entered the left eye of his Eternal Mangekyou—Heavenly Amenominakanushi.

Three souls and three wills fused into a single new existence.

Uchiha Naro.

He retained the memories, cultivation techniques, and demonic temperament of Zhang Hongchen—decisive in slaughter, detached and emotionless.

He retained the emotions, pain, and attachment to life of Zhang Hongchen—these feelings ensured his "detachment" was not entirely cold, but carried a trace of human warmth.

He also retained the rebirth of the infant Naro and the bloodline of the Uchiha clan—this allowed him to possess a brand-new destiny, rather than merely being a grafted life born of transmigration and possession.

Left eye, Heavenly Amenominakanushi.

Right eye, Heavenly Eternal Presence.

These were two eyes of taboo.