The Invisible Gaze and Kyoto Prefecture's Nightmare

Night was thick, like ink that could never be diluted.

Kyoto Prefecture, this sleepless city standing at the pinnacle of power in the Land of Fire, was now shrouded in an invisible gloom.

Within Elder Watanabe Jun's residence, priceless ambergris burned quietly, sending wisps of blue smoke into the air. He had just dismissed the last of his still-shaken aides and now sat alone in his study, trying to wash away the nauseating stench of blood from the day's council meeting with expensive tea.

Hojo Tokugawa's madness and despair, along with his colleagues' betrayals and attempts to distance themselves, played out again and again in his mind like scenes from some absurd drama.

"Madmen... They're all madmen..."

Watanabe Jun lifted his teacup. The warmth spread from his fingertips, yet it did nothing to dispel the chill in his heart.

He took a sip, trying to calm himself.

However, at that very moment—

An indescribable feeling rose from the very end of his spine without warning.

It was not killing intent, nor was it a fluctuation of Chakra.

It was a feeling of... being watched.

It was as if countless eyes were staring fixedly at him through the walls, through layer upon layer of eaves, through the luxurious silk clothing on his body.

They were staring at his skin, his blood vessels, and his pupils as they contracted.

The hand holding Watanabe Jun's teacup suddenly froze.

He slowly raised his head and warily scanned the empty study.

The windows were tightly shut, and his finest guards stood outside the door. This was the most heavily guarded area in Kyoto. It was impossible for any assassin to infiltrate without making a sound.

"Was it just my imagination?" he muttered, trying to reassure himself. Perhaps the pressure from the day had simply been