Fish That Slipped Through the Net

From atop the high platform, Uchiha Yoru stood with his hands behind his back, his cold eyes like knives, looking down at the crowd below.

His low voice seemed to come from the abyss, like a sharp blade cutting through the sky, carrying an undeniable pressure:

"From today onwards, 'Akatsuki' will no longer be a loose union of mercenaries."

His tone was calm, yet every word carried irresistible power: "We are the edge that tears apart the Ninja World's false peace."

Before his words even fell, his gaze was cold and merciless, as if it could pierce through everyone's soul: "My goal--is the true unification of the Ninja World."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone, his words like rolling thunder, carrying a suffocating sense of oppression: "Those who resist will be eliminated."

"Order will be reforged."

"And you--are the executors."

Before his voice faded, a piercing laugh rang out, shattering the somber atmosphere.

"Hehehehe... You think you're a god?" Hidan cackled, his face full of mockery.

Before his words finished, a sharp voice descended from the void: "Shut up."

--It was Uchiha Madara.

The next instant, Hidan's body crashed violently into the ground, blood mist splashing. He looked up in terror, only to see those eyes, as indifferent as death: "What right do you have?"

Hidan's lips trembled, and he finally fell silent.

The scene was silent, only the frantic pounding of hearts in chests.

Uchiha Yoru's gaze fell upon the crowd: "Sarutobi Asuma."

Asuma frowned: "You are..."

"A survivor of the Sarutobi Clan," Uchiha Yoru slowly descended the platform, his voice like blood dripping from a blade.

Asuma roared and charged, his chakra blade slashing down.

However--

The air trembled, and Yoru's figure vanished.

The next moment, Asuma was kneeling, spitting blood, his chakra blade shattered, a palm piercing his chest.

"I never leave alive those who deserve to die."

Blood stained the ground, and all was silent.

The surroundings were deathly still, as if even the air had frozen.

That palm was both a warning and an irresistible pronouncement.

Sasori lowered his head slightly, his voice low: "...Understood, Leader."

Kisame licked his teeth, smiling meaningfully: "Lord Yoru... is indeed more terrifying than the rumors."

Hidan's face was pale, and he muttered to himself: "Lord Jashin... you can see this too, right?"

Konan then walked out slowly, her paper wings slightly unfurled, her gaze firm: "From today onwards--he is the first leader of 'Akatsuki'. Uchiha Yoru."

Uchiha Yoru stepped back onto the high platform, and everyone lowered their heads, avoiding his gaze.

"He will not walk alone."

Before everyone could react, a deep, thunderous whisper came from behind them.

--It was Madara.

Uchiha Madara stood with his hands behind his back, his robes fluttering without wind, his voice ancient and cold:

"From now on, under the guise of an advisor, I will assist Yoru in controlling Akatsuki's full authority."

Upon hearing this, no one dared to speak.

Sasori's heart trembled slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching, but he said nothing--in the past, he might have had some pride, but now, before the two Uchiha, he could only bow his head.

Kisame licked his teeth: "The leader is Yoru... the advisor is Madara... Hehehehe, this game is getting more and more 'exciting'."

Hidan swallowed, finally understanding that the 'Akatsuki' of this moment... was no longer the mercenary organization it once was.

It was--a complete revolution.

Even Kakuzu lowered his head expressionlessly, sighing inwardly: If these two joined forces, would the 'old debts' of the Ninja World truly be settled one day?

At this moment, the members of Akatsuki stopped whispering amongst themselves; for the first time, everyone was truly silent.

In the solemnity, only the sound of the wind brushed past their clothes.

Uchiha Yoru stood silently on the high platform, his gaze cold, his robes fluttering.

Asuma's bones were not yet cold, his blood not yet dry, and everyone remained silent.

"What an exciting performance! Hmm!" Deidara was, as always, ecstatically frenzied, his mouth split into a grin, as if he had witnessed an artistic feast.

"Asuma's death was 'explosive', but not enough... 'boom'."

He raised his finger and snapped his fingers lightly.

"Leader, next time, let me do it. I'll make him bloom in the air--that's what 'art' is!"

Uchiha Madara opened his eyes and let out a cold snort, his voice sharp as a frozen blade:

"Do not confuse bombs with art, brat."

Deidara froze, a look of resentment surfacing on his face, yet he still muttered under his breath and withdrew his fingers.

Kakuzu stood rooted to the spot with his head bowed, remaining silent for a long time before finally lifting his eyes, his gaze slowly sweeping over the corpse that still held a lingering warmth.

A flash of complexity crossed the depths of his eyes, like a flicker of old memories buried beneath his obsession with money, but in the end, he said nothing.

He slowly stepped forward, his tone lowered, uncharacteristically restraining his usual edge:

"...I have no objections. As long as the allocation of the organization's funds remains under my control."

The voice was still cold and hard, yet it had lost its former aggressive bite.

He bowed slightly, carrying a trace of extremely rare reverence.

He knew very well that that palm strike was not merely a slaughter; it was a declaration that severed all hope of luck.

Uchiha Yoru glanced at him indifferently, his tone calm yet beyond question:

"Very well, the financial power shall remain in your hands."

He paused for a moment, then added:

"But do not forget, the Akatsuki is not your bank—it is the blade that will liquidate the old era."

Kakuzu lowered his head, his voice crisp: "Understood."

At this moment, a stifled breath sounded from behind.

Juzo Biwa stood in the shadows, his face gloomy, his brows tightly furrowed, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his blade.

He struggled to suppress his emotions, yet he could hardly conceal the shock born from being caught off guard.

He had just infiltrated from the border of the Land of Fire, having exhausted favors and bribes to finally persuade a Konoha missing-nin to join the Akatsuki.

The original plan was for him to act as an intermediary for contacts within the Land of Fire, yet who could have expected that before Asuma could even make a formal appearance, he would be struck dead by this new leader with a single palm.

Clean, swift, and impossible to counter.

That strike was too fast—so fast that he hadn't even been able to summon the instinct to intervene.

For the first time, he realized: this young man... was more dangerous than Uchiha Madara.

Madara was a god of war, a monster, a deterrent.

But the youth before him, named Uchiha Yoru, was the blade itself—he gave no warnings, only results.

Juzo lowered his head, his tone hoarse, laced with a hint of suppression and unwillingness:

"...Leader, my question—"

Before he could finish, Uchiha Yoru had already slowly descended from the high platform, his gaze falling upon him, his tone calm yet reaching deep into the soul:

"You have no questions, Juzo."

"It was merely a misjudgment."

"This is not your fault; it is simply that he was unworthy."

Juzo shuddered, the tension on his face slowly relaxing, and he whispered: "Understood."

Uchiha Yoru turned to look at the others, suddenly speaking in a cold voice:

"There is one more thing."

"From this day forth, the Akatsuki adds one more member."

He flicked his sleeve, and a figure stepped out from the shadows.

It was a red-haired youth with a calm expression, his footsteps like leaves in the wind, yet carrying an indescribable sense of stability.

—The reborn Uzumaki Nagato.

Uchiha Yoru looked at the group, his tone icy:

"From today on, Nagato is responsible for the reconstruction and expansion of the organization's intelligence network."

"He will take over the Akatsuki's external eyes and ears, contacts, and reconnaissance agencies."

"If anyone has an objection—speak now."

No one in the room made a sound.

Nagato nodded slightly, his face composed as he stood by Uchiha Yoru's side.

In this moment, there was no hypocritical god known as Pain, only a truly awakened soul.

Uchiha Yoru indifferently withdrew his gaze, standing still on the high platform as the cold wind whipped around them, the killing intent yet to dissipate.

The others stood with bowed heads, as if waiting for a true "deity" to descend.

—The Akatsuki had changed.