Different Paths, Separate Infiltrations

The third day after graduation.

At five in the morning, only a faint glimmer of light touched the horizon, barely outlining the towering silhouette of Konoha.

Uchiha En stood before the entrance to ANBU Headquarters—a subterranean complex built inside Hokage Rock. There were no markings outside, only a heavy iron door covered in densely carved, intricate sealing patterns.

These patterns were not decorations. They were part of a barrier, and any unauthorized chakra fluctuation would trigger an alarm.

He handed the Third Hokage's special authorization to the guard at the door. The guard was an ANBU wearing an eagle mask, his entire body concealed beneath a loose black cloak. His presence was restrained, like a beast lurking in the shadows. Eagle Mask accepted the order and silently verified it. The authorization had been personally written by Hiruzen Sarutobi, with a vermilion Hokage seal stamped along its edge. Every stroke carried unquestionable authority.

After confirming it was genuine, the iron door gave a soft rumble and silently slid apart, revealing a deep passageway.

The moment Uchiha En stepped inside, a cold, damp chill rushed over him, raising every hair on his body.

Deep underground, the temperature plummeted. There were no windows in the corridor; the only light came from glowing ores embedded in the walls.

The air carried the smells of disinfectant, metal, and an indescribable damp earthiness. He passed through three checkpoints, each one staffed by different ANBU members who scanned his chakra signature and used some unknown technique to probe his mind.

This ensured that anyone attempting to infiltrate, whether physically or mentally, would have nowhere to hide. Using Observation Haki Lv. 2's Emotion Capture ability, Uchiha En sensed only cold vigilance and professional detachment from the investigators. There was neither hostility nor curiosity. He quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Beyond the final checkpoint was an empty stone chamber. Waiting for him inside was a silver-haired man wearing a cat mask. He was the ANBU who had arrived at the door of his ruined house first on the night Root had attacked. Cat Mask stood in the center of the chamber, perfectly straight, as though he had merged with the surrounding stone walls.

"Codename confirmed." Cat Mask's voice was hard as iron, devoid of any fluctuation, like an order issued by a machine.

"From today onward, your codename is—Lava." He handed over a mask. It had no pattern.

Pure black. This mask was standard issue for the ANBU Reserve Unit, symbolizing anonymity and obedience.

Only official members were qualified to receive exclusive masks bearing designs.

Uchiha En took the mask and put it on.

The material pressed against his cheeks was unexpectedly cold, like a stone devoid of all warmth.

Through the narrow slits of the mask, the world was divided into thin horizontal lines. His vision was restricted, yet his senses became sharper.

A strange feeling rose within him—the moment he put on this mask, the name "Uchiha En," along with every personal mark he had carried for twelve years, was temporarily sealed away.

The one standing here was no longer the young man born into the Uchiha clan, with his own loves and hates. He was only a codename. A tool. A sharp yet nameless blade honed by Konoha's will.

Cat Mask briefly explained the rules of the ANBU Reserve Unit. His voice carried no emotion, but every word was a blade that carved itself into the bone: do not reveal your true identity, do not remove your mask while carrying out missions, and do not discuss mission details with anyone outside the Reserve Unit.

Those who violated these rules—would be executed. No trial, no appeal. Immediate execution.

The rules were cruel, but effective. Uchiha En nodded.

He had already learned these rules inside and out through various channels when he watched Naruto in his previous life.

He knew that ANBU was Konoha's blade, but also Konoha's shadow.

That same day.

On the other side of Konoha.

The ninja assignment hall was bustling beneath the sunlight, filled with noise and joy.

Minato stood before the notice board, looking at his team assignment.

"Team Seven—Instructor: Jiraiya. Member: Minato Namikaze." He was the only member. That left him slightly confused.

Jiraiya's voice sounded behind him, accompanied by a large hand patting his shoulder.

The force was light, but it carried a familiar, unrestrained ease.

"Special assignment. You're coming with me, kid. You won't be placed in a three-man team.

Your training will be three times as intense as everyone else's. Got a problem with that?"

Minato's eyes shone like lightbulbs. The confusion in his heart was instantly swept away, replaced by overwhelming excitement.

"No!" he answered loudly, his voice full of longing to grow stronger.

Following one of the Three Sannin, Jiraiya—this was an opportunity countless ninja could only dream of.

Evening.

The training ground south of Konoha.

The setting sun dyed the earth a brilliant gold and red.

Minato was practicing leaf cutting alone—his new assignment from Jiraiya.

He held his breath and focused, precisely gathering Wind Release chakra at his fingertips as he tried to cut a soft leaf into two perfectly symmetrical halves.

In the distant village, lights came on one after another, scattered like stars fallen into the mortal world.

He could hear people laughing and shouting. They were Konoha's civilians, living their ordinary yet peaceful lives.

Minato stopped practicing, his gaze unconsciously turning toward the Uchiha compound.

It was already silent there, shrouded by night.

"What is he... doing right now?" he murmured to himself. No one answered.

The wind swept through the training ground, carrying half a shredded leaf before gently dropping it at his feet.

That leaf had not been cut. It simply lay there quietly, like some silent hint.

He knew Yan had to be somewhere as well, undergoing training that was just as brutal in its own way.

Underground.

The ANBU training facility.

Uchiha En was undergoing the Reserve Unit's basic courses—infiltration, assassination, countertracking, and information extraction.

His instructor was a veteran ANBU codenamed Crow, a thin man whose presence was concealed so thoroughly that even Observation Haki Lv. 1 could not fully detect him.

He spoke very little, and his teaching method was simple and brutal: demonstrate once, then make the trainees practice.

If they failed to learn it, they got beaten.

If they learned it, they still got beaten, because they had "learned too slowly."

In his eyes, any hesitation or imperfection could cost someone their life on a real battlefield.

Uchiha En was struck seven times.

Not because he could not learn—the techniques of infiltration and countertracking were not difficult for him.

Observation Haki Lv. 2, with its ability to sense emotions, was the best countertracking tool. It allowed him to detect hidden killing intent and intentions in advance.

He was beaten because he had deliberately held back his performance.

He needed to appear "talented, but in need of polishing," rather than "already complete."

Within ANBU, blades that were too sharp were often the first to be sent to the front lines to die.

He understood that in the face of absolute strength, showing weakness at the right time could instead be a form of self-protection.

Late at night.

Training was over.

Uchiha En returned to the single dormitory assigned to him by ANBU—a three-square-meter stone room containing only an iron bed and a thin blanket.

It was even more barren than the ruined house in the Uchiha compound. There was no window, not even a trace of human warmth.

But no one was watching him here.

ANBU had its own strict security system. No matter how capable Danzo's Root was, its reach could hardly extend into this core area.

He lay on the iron bed and removed his mask, allowing that icy sensation to leave his face for the moment.

He closed his eyes, feeling the cold, oppressive silence around him.

Today, there had been no battle, no social encounters, no emotional impact.

Pure skill training seemed incapable of triggering the system's growth mechanism. That made him realize he needed more than refined techniques—he needed real combat.

Real combat, where he would lick blood from the blade's edge. Only beneath that extreme pressure would his "Destruction and Rebirth" system truly roar and bring him new power.