Itachi's Threat

"No need to trouble yourself, brother." Natsu didn't stop walking. Expressionless, he cut him off, his tone utterly devoid of warmth. "I still have things to do, so I won't disturb you."

With that, he walked straight across the courtyard and left without looking back. In the living room, Fugaku's gaze at Itachi grew ever more complicated.

How could he not know about the relationship between those two children?

Years ago, Natsu had more than once exposed Konoha's hypocritical rhetoric about peace right in front of Itachi, trying to win back his nephew, who was almost blindly devoted to the Hokage. But every time, it had ended on bad terms.

In Itachi's eyes, Natsu was a thoroughgoing radical, the root cause of the rift between the Uchiha and Konoha. Forget sitting down for a meal together—even when they ran into each other normally, they wouldn't exchange a single unnecessary word.

And now, Itachi had just returned from the Hokage Building, found him with Natsu, and suddenly wanted Natsu to stay for dinner?

He had been the Uchiha clan head for so many years. If he lacked even that much insight, the village would have swallowed him whole long ago, bones and all.

"Father, recently, the clan... seems to have been selling off quite a few assets?" Itachi spoke first, breaking the silence in the living room.

"The clan's population has dwindled over the years. The registered ninja number less than thirty percent of what they did at our peak." Fugaku withdrew his gaze, lifted his teacup, and took a sip. His voice was so calm that not a trace of emotion could be heard. "Selling off some useless idle assets to exchange for resources and make up for the children's training deficiencies isn't inappropriate."

Itachi nodded and didn't press further, but then changed the subject. "Father, I suddenly remembered that I need to speak with Natsu about something. I'll head out first."

"Itachi."

Fugaku suddenly raised his voice, slamming the dossier in his hand onto the table. He looked up at him, his face instantly turning cold, disappointment and warning churning in his eyes.

But Itachi merely stood quietly where he was, looking back at him without the slightest ripple on his face. Even his gaze didn't waver.

Fugaku's heart sank bit by bit, as if it had been thrown into an ice lake in the dead of winter. In the end, it became a helpless sigh. He waved his hand and said no more.

Itachi gave a slight nod, turned, and walked out of the living room, his steps brisk as he headed after Natsu.

On the bluestone-paved street, Natsu was heading back to his residence when a familiar strand of chakra suddenly drifted through the wind, carrying the cold, cutting aura unique to the Anbu. He paused and turned around.

Uchiha Itachi stood not far behind him, his eyes as cold as tempered ice, fixed directly on Natsu.

"These earth-shaking changes in the clan lately—you started them, didn't you?" Itachi spoke first, his tone openly accusatory.

"I don't understand what you're talking about." Natsu tugged at the corner of his mouth, his tone as bland as if he were discussing the weather.

Those words seemed to light a fuse. Scarlet instantly surged in Itachi's eyes, three tomoe flickering into view, while even the chakra around him carried an undisguised killing intent.

"Uchiha Natsu, I'm warning you." He kept his voice low, every word filled with coldness. "If I find out that you dared to provoke hostility between the clan and the village, I'll kill you myself."

"I'll say it again: I don't understand the nonsense you're spouting." Natsu met his killing gaze without the slightest fear, his own tone growing even colder. "I'm merely a Chunin. The clan's major affairs are naturally decided by the clan head and the elders. It's not my place to meddle."

(As an aside, Uchiha Natsu had Jonin-level strength, but his official Konoha ninja rank was only Chunin. Position did not equal strength.)

For the past two years, he had never stopped investigating the cause of his parents' deaths.

His parents had been carrying out an S-rank top-secret mission. Aside from Fugaku, only the Konoha higher-ups knew the route and details. When the mission failed, not even a complete body had been returned to the clan district. Other than that sewer rat Shimura Danzō, who else could have done it?

And this Uchiha Itachi before him, who constantly talked about protecting the village and the clan, had turned around and thrown in with the Konoha higher-ups, becoming their sharpest blade and, in turn, treating his own clansmen as enemies. In Natsu's eyes, he was an ungrateful white-eyed wolf, no different from the Konoha higher-ups.

He had long since added the blood debt owed for his parents to the ledger. Sooner or later, principal and interest alike would be collected from the Konoha higher-ups—and from this so-called brother of his.

One day, he would make all of Konoha taste what it was like to fall into boundless hell.

Seeing the cold, vicious aura churning in Natsu's eyes, Itachi narrowed his gaze slightly, and the killing intent around him intensified.

But at that moment, members of the Uchiha Police Force patrolling both sides of the street, as well as passing clansmen, sensed the tension in the air and cast inquisitive looks their way.

Itachi abruptly withdrew his chakra, and the scarlet in his eyes vanished in an instant. He gave Natsu one cold glance, said not another word, then turned and left the street.

Natsu watched his retreating figure disappear, his expression unchanged. He merely gave a derisive snort, then turned and continued toward his residence.

He still had a mountain of matters to keep an eye on—the progress of the barrier formation, the inventory of supplies, preparations for the Portal at Naka Shrine. Every one of them was urgent. He had no time to play cat-and-mouse with this idiot brainwashed by Konoha.

Konoha Year 54, late autumn.

Exactly one month had passed since the day Natsu and Fugaku had laid their cards on the table.

The maple leaves in the Uchiha Clan District had turned red enough to cover half the sky. The wind swept fallen leaves onto the bluestone roads. Everything looked much the same as usual: the apothecaries and ninja tool shops along the streets remained open, while patrolling clansmen still followed their established routes.

But only those within knew that this seemingly tranquil clan district had already become like a giant bow drawn taut, waiting only for the moment its string was released.

Over the past month, the Uchiha's foundation, built over more than fifty years in the Land of Fire, had been thoroughly liquidated.

From vast mines and fertile fields along the Land of Fire's borders, to taverns and shops in the capital, then street-facing storefronts and herbal medicine shops within Konoha—even ninja tool forging workshops that supplied ninja exclusively.

Every asset that could be converted into cash had been secretly connected, through the Ninja Cat Clan's covert channels, to merchants serving the Land of Fire's daimyo. At thirty percent below market price, transfer contracts for all of them were signed.

Only one ironclad clause had been added to the contracts—all properties would officially complete the transfer of ownership and personnel replacement one month later. Until then, the Uchiha retained their daily operating rights.

And it was precisely this clause that completely kept the Konoha higher-ups' eyes and ears outside.

On the surface, every shop remained open for business as usual, with money flowing in and out no differently than before. No one would have imagined that these Uchiha assets, passed down through generations, had already changed owners.