Brother-con, Recruiting New Members

In the evening, the Konoha bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, which coats the rebuilt streets with a warm glaze.

Taichi Matsushita pushed open his courtyard gate and passed by the Training Ground when three swift figures rushed towards him with cheerful shouts.

"Teacher! You're back!"

"Taiichi- sensei!"

"Teacher!"

Uchiha Itachi, Jiangtai, Yami, his three carefully taught disciples, had pure joy on their faces.

During the time Taiichi left Konoha to go to the Northern Front, although they never slacked off, their progress slowed down significantly.

The feeling of rapid improvement under Taiichi's precise guidance and insight is incomparable to practicing alone.

The teacher's return means that the stagnant strength will once again be rapidly improved.

"Yes, I'm back." Taiichi smiled gently and patted each of their heads.

As the light swept across the Training Ground, one could see traces of various Kunai thrown, fist marks of varying depths on the wooden stakes, and markings on the ground simulating tactical movements; clearly, they had not wasted their time.

"Let me see if you've been slacking off lately," Taiichi said, walking to the center of the field.

The three little ones immediately perked up, and without saying a word, they each assumed a fighting stance, showcasing the results of their training over the past period.

Taiichi watched quietly, and couldn't help but sigh in his heart: A genius is a genius, and those who can walk alongside a genius are definitely not ordinary people.

At just six years old, Itachi's overall strength, especially his combat awareness far beyond his age, already surpassed that of an ordinary Genin.

His strength, speed, and stamina were no less than, and perhaps even greater than, those of children who graduated from the Ninja Academy at the age of twelve.

This is not only due to his Uchiha bloodline, but also to his almost obsessive self-discipline and the basic training that Taiichi tailored for him.

Although Jiangtai and Yami are not as dazzling as Itachi, they are still worthy of the title "little geniuses". With Taiichi's guidance and their own unremitting efforts, they have kept up with Itachi and have not fallen too far behind.

This momentum of catching up is enough to prove their potential.

The presentation concluded, Taiichi nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad, your foundations are all solid, nothing has been neglected. It seems that while I was away, the reputations of 'Big Sister' and 'Big Brother' gave you even more motivation?"

Upon hearing Taiichi mention this, Jiangtai and Yami exchanged a glance and chuckled, a hint of smugness in their expressions. Itachi, on the other hand, pursed his lips in a somewhat helpless manner.

"Teacher, you already know?" Yami asked with a grin.

"The entire school is managed by Jiangtai for the boys and Yami for the girls. They're just taking the management system from the Orphanage and applying it directly to the Ninja Academy?"

Taiichi eyebrow, his tone teasing, "Big Sister," "Big Brother"? Tsk, have I cultivated a new generation of "Black Evil Force" leaders in Konoha?

Jiangtai puffed out his chest, looking completely matter-of-fact. "We didn't bully anyone! We just organized everyone to train together, spar, and help each other! We only intervene if anyone dares to bully younger students or engage in clique bullying!"

"Exactly," Yami added, "Strength speaks for itself! We convinced everyone fair and square!"

She almost let it slip, then quickly corrected herself.

Seeing the two little ones' self-righteous expressions, Taiichi's lips twitched involuntarily. Fine, at least the initial intention was good; establishing order through strength is better than chaos and disorder.

However, this title is a bit too "down-to-earth".

He seemed to already see the strange legend of the "Konoha Twin Terrors" circulating in the Ninja World in the future.

During his conversation with Itachi, Taiichi keenly noticed a detail— the Uchiha Compound was not forcibly relocated to the edge of the village as depicted in the original story.

Taiichi had heard that the Advisor, Elder Mitokado Homura, had indeed made this suggestion at a high-level meeting.

The reason given was also quite plausible: the central area of the village needed more space for planning and construction, and a larger, more concentrated area of land could be allocated to the Uchiha on the edge of the village as compensation.

However, it seems that things are not developing as Mitokado Homura suggested.

This is quite interesting. Has Fugaku Uchiha suddenly become more assertive?

Taiichi learned the truth from Itachi.

Before the Uchiha Clan Head Fugaku, could even voice his opposition, the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, rejected the proposal on the spot.

Minato's reasoning was also quite sound: the idea was good, but the key issue was that it was ill-timed.

Regardless of Mitokado Homura's true intentions (whether it was to guard against the Uchiha or simply for the sake of land interests), at this critical moment when Konoha has just experienced the Nine-Tails' attack, and the people are yearning for stability and urgently need to unite to fight against external threats, simply relocating the Uchiha Clan could easily be interpreted as the higher-ups deliberately suppressing dissidents.

Especially since all other clans are unaffected, why make the Uchiha the only ones move? This will only deepen the rift and give them ammunition against us.

Minato remained resolute, and the matter was ultimately dropped. Although Fugaku didn't explicitly say so afterward, Taiichi could guess that the Uchiha Clan Head definitely held Minato in higher regard.

Time slipped by unnoticed, and the afterglow of the setting sun bathed the Training Ground in a warm orange-red hue. Just past five o'clock, Itachi stood up and respectfully bowed to Taiichi: "Master, I should go back now."

Taiichi glanced at the sky and, seeing that it was still early, asked curiously, "It's still early, why don't we practice a little longer? Or stay for dinner?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Jiangtai and Yami covered their mouths and chuckled, looking at Itachi with mischievous eyes.

Itachi's fair cheeks flushed slightly, looking somewhat embarrassed, and he explained in a low voice, "Um... Sasuke..."

My mother has some things to do today, so I need to go back and take care of him, feed him, and play with him for a while.

"Hahahaha!" Jiangtai finally couldn't help but burst into laughter, "Yes, yes, yes! Our Brother-con 'Young Master Itachi' is going home to be a super-milking older brother!"

"Exactly!" Yami smiled, her eyes crinkling. "When little Sasuke cries, our genius gets flustered and more nervous than when facing ten opponents!"

Itachi's ears turned red from their laughter. He glared at them but couldn't refute them. He simply said "Goodbye, teacher" to Taiichi again and then turned and left in a slightly embarrassed manner.

Watching Itachi's figure disappear through the doorway, and listening to Jiangtai and Yami still joking about "Brother-con," Taiichi felt a sudden sense of clarity and a strong feeling of nostalgia welled up within him.

The future "Twelve Konoha 12" have arrived in this world one after another, and a new era has begun.

The Land of Water, in the southeastern sea, a forgotten desert island.

The salty sea breeze, carrying a heavy stench of blood, howled among the jagged rocks. Several corpses dressed in the attire of the Mist Village Anbu lay askew on the beach, their wounds gruesome and the blood not yet fully congealed.

Suikazan Fuguki was panting heavily, his massive body rising and falling slightly. His signature Samehada, was now covered in dark red bloodstains, greedily absorbing the Chakra dissipating from the air, emitting a soft, satisfied hissing sound.

He raised his foot and roughly kicked away a head with its eyes wide open, which bounced a few times on the rocks before rolling into the murky waves.

"Pah! Damn it, I hid in this godforsaken place, and I still managed to be found?"

The Fuguki spat fiercely towards the sea, his face contorted with rage, his tiny green eyes flashing with ferocity and irritation. "Are they all fucking dogs? Their noses are so sensitive!"

He irritably wiped the blood splattered on his face, the movement aggravating several shallow wounds on his body, causing him to wince in pain.

His gaze fell on the Headband on his forehead, where the Mist Village symbol in the center was pierced by a deep scratch.

Rogue Ninja! This identity, which he once despised, has now become the mark on which he survives.

Since the Fourth Hokage Mizukage, Karatachi Yagura, took office, Kirigakure has not only failed to achieve the stability it had hoped for, but has instead fallen into even deeper bloodshed and turmoil.

In order to consolidate his already fragile power, Yagura not only restarted the infamous "Bloody Mist Policy," but also ruthlessly purged his opponents.

Any ninja who was not part of his direct lineage or who had posed a potential threat to his position became a target of suppression.

Suikazan Fuguki, a former Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, performed "poorly" in the Third Shinobi World War and was not Elite Jonin of the Yagura faction, so he naturally became the first to be placed on the suppression list.

Fortunately, he was cunning and slippery, and knew the principle of "Aoyama better than nothing." As soon as he sensed that the winds in the village were blowing and that the higher-ups were going to make an example of him, he made a decisive move, took Samehada, and fled the village.

Having just dealt with a group of pursuers, the Fuguki, whose nerves were on edge, was looking for a secluded spot to tend to his wounds and catch his breath.

Snap--Snap--Snap----

A sudden burst of applause erupted on the deathly silent beach without warning.

The Fuguki's hair stood on end instantly! Like a frog being stared at by a venomous snake, his pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints as he turned to look in horror at the source of the sound.

Less than five meters behind him, in the shadow of a huge reef, a figure had silently appeared!

The man was wearing a Black-bottomed Red Cloud Robe and a single orange mask covering his face.

He just stood there casually, as if he had been watching the play for a long time.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through the Fuguki's back.

Five meters! For a ninja of his caliber, that's practically a death trap. How could his opponent have infiltrated that position without him noticing, right after he finished a battle and when his senses were at their sharpest?

If the other party hadn't just clapped, but instead launched a sneak attack— the Fuguki dared not think further, a chilling coldness shooting from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.

Fear instantly transformed into a frenzied desire to attack. Without uttering a single word or heeding his wounds, the Fuguki roared and drew his sword to slash at the Masked Man's waist!

"Die!"

However, what happened next made the Fuguki's eyes widen in surprise.

The Samehada giant blade, powerful enough to split mountains and shatter rocks, passed right through the Masked Man's body without any hindrance, as if slicing through the air!

There was no physical sensation of flesh and blood, no collision of Chakra; it was as if he had struck only a realistic phantom!

The Masked Man's body rippled like water, but he remained unharmed.

"What?!" The Fuguki's face froze in shock as the massive momentum from his missed attack caused his enormous body to stagger.

Just as his old strength was exhausted and his new strength had not yet arisen, the Masked Man had been standing still moved!

His movements were as fast as a ghost, leaving a faint afterimage in place. His true form appeared in front of the Fuguki as if by teleportation. His right leg was raised high like a steel whip, and a simple yet extremely fast side kick slammed into the Fuguki's chest, which was wide open in shock!

Bang!

With a loud thud, the Fuguki felt as if it had been struck head-on by a raging Tailed Beast! Its sternum groaned under the strain, a sweet taste rose in its throat, and blood gushed out!

His massive body, weighing nearly 300 pounds, was like a tattered sack kicked away by a tremendous force, flying uncontrollably off the ground!

Boom! Crash!

The Fuguki's body landed and rolled around on the beach a dozen times before finally stopping in the sea.

He struggled to get up, but the intense pain and the convulsions in his internal organs rendered him powerless. He could only lift his head with difficulty and stare intently at the masked figure.

The fact that his attacker didn't continue the pursuit while he was down made him realize that they weren't simply after him.

As expected, the Masked Man's single exposed eye calmly observed the disheveled Fuguki through the mask, and he spoke in a flippant tone, "Oh my, as expected of one of the former Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, Suikazan Fuguki. His alertness and reaction speed are truly legendary." He paused, a hint of amusement in his voice, "However, attacking with deadly intent upon first meeting is not a good habit."

The Fuguki coughed up another mouthful of blood, enduring the excruciating pain as it growled in a hoarse voice, "You—who are you? What do you want?"

"Who I am is not important," the Masked Man shrugged, his posture relaxed. "What is important is that I represent an organization, an organization dedicated to changing this corrupt world and bringing true peace to the Ninja World. And we are looking for like-minded partners with sufficient power."

His single eye narrowed slightly, locking onto the Fuguki. "And you, Suikazan Fuguki, although you're currently as pathetic as a stray dog, the power you possess and your hatred for Mist Village are exactly what we need."

"Peace? Ha—" The Fuguki seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world. He struggled to sit up, leaning against the broken rocks, his face full of sarcasm. "I only believe in the knife in my hand now! Stop talking nonsense with me! What kind of bullshit organization is this, trying to recruit me? Dream on!"

"Is that so?" The Masked Man's tone suddenly turned cold, the flippancy vanishing in place, replaced by a chilling indifference and oppressive aura. "It seems that kick just now didn't make you face reality."

He slowly raised his hand, pointing at the Fuguki. "Refusing my invitation means you are hindering my and our organization's plans. And obstacles—only elimination will suffice."

A killing intent, even colder and more suffocating than before, like a tangible cold wave, instantly enveloped the entire beach!

The Fuguki felt as if his heart was being squeezed by an invisible hand, almost stopping its beating. He had no doubt that the other party would use that same bizarre and unpredictable method to end his life in the next second!

Faced with an absolute power disparity and the threat of death, the Fuguki's so-called toughness and arrogance melted away quickly, like ice and snow under the sun.

He didn't want to die! At least not like a stray dog dying in this desolate, godforsaken place!

"Wait!" The Fuguki forced out a hoarse voice, its ferocity replaced by fear and struggle in its eyes. "What exactly do you—that organization—want to do? And what does 'peace' mean?"

The Masked Man's murderous intent subsided slightly, and a hint of expected glint flashed in his single eye.

"This Ninja World is filled with pointless hatred, endless wars, and deep-rooted darkness. The Five Great Nations and the Five Great Ninja Villages are nothing but Puppet of desire and ambition; they can never bring true peace."

Our goal is to break down this corrupt old order and create an ideal world without war, without suffering, and with only eternal peace.

He tilted his head slightly, looking at the Fuguki, "A world where even a strong person like you, betrayed by your village and forced into exile, can have a place to stand, and even—control your own destiny."

"An ideal world? A world where one can control one's destiny?" the Fuguki murmured, his eyes flashing with a complex light.

The humiliation and anger of being hunted by the Mist Village, the thirst for power, and the confusion about the future were all ignited by the Masked Man's words at this moment.

Although the other party's words seemed like a fantasy, their terrifying strength and bizarre abilities were real.

"That sounds tempting—" the Fuguki licked his dry, bloodied lips, a fierce glint in his eyes, "But why should I trust you? What will I get by joining you? And what will I be required to do?"

He had to secure enough benefits, at least enough to guarantee his survival.

"Trust takes time, Mr. Fuguki," the Masked Man said casually. "However, I can assure you that by joining us, the pursuers from the Mist Village will no longer be a problem for you. The organization will provide you with shelter and resources."

As for what you can gain—power? Status? An opportunity for revenge? That depends on your abilities and contributions to the organization.

He abruptly changed the subject, his tone carrying a chilling warning, "As for what you need to do—the organization's orders are what you need to do. Absolute obedience is the first rule of survival. Of course, missions usually come with generous rewards."

The two began to struggle in the salty sea breeze. The Fuguki tried to fight for more freedom and benefits, while the Masked Man insisted on the organization's rules and power.

The Masked Man's patience seemed to be running out; whenever the Fuguki showed hesitation or doubt, that suffocating killing intent would resurface.

Finally, when the Fuguki tried to reiterate that he "needed time to consider," the Masked Man vanished without warning.

Alarm bells rang in the Fuguki's mind! Almost simultaneously, a hand wearing a black glove seemed to reach out from the void and lightly pressed against the back of his neck, which was too weak to defend itself due to its serious injuries!

Icy cold! The bone-chilling cold instantly seeped into my bones!

The Fuguki felt as if the blood in his entire body was freezing. It wasn't the cold of temperature, but a deep-seated, pure fear of death!

"My patience is limited, Mr. Fuguki." The Masked Man's emotionless voice rang out as if pressed against the Fuguki's eardrums, right next to him.

"Last chance. Join, or—become yet another unclaimed corpse on this beach. You've wasted enough time."

The bone-chilling cold and the tangible sensation of death completely shattered Suikazan Fuguki's last psychological defenses.

"I'm in!" The Fuguki spat out the two words through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with humiliation, yet also filled with the relief of surviving a catastrophe.

The cold hand that had been pressing on the back of his neck vanished instantly. The Masked Man reappeared a few meters in front of him like a ghost, as if he had never moved.

"A wise choice, Mr. Fuguki." The Masked Man's voice returned to its flippant tone, as if the deadly threat from before had never occurred.

"Let's go, I'll take you back to the organization. Once we get there, they'll arrange your subsequent tasks."

After saying that, the Masked Man ignored the Fuguki and turned to walk alone to the other side of the island.

Suikazan Fuguki watched the other's retreating figure, and finally could only sigh, struggle to his feet, and follow.

The deserted island returned to its deathly silence, with only the lingering stench of blood in the sea breeze, foreshadowing the beginning of deeper undercurrents in the Ninja World.