It's My Turn?

Amid a jumble of jagged rocks and chaotic woods, a few figures flashed past at breakneck speeds, completely exceeding the limits of normal humans; if they entered a track-and-field meet, taking home the gold would be a walk in the park.

"Katon! Great Fireball Technique!"

"Earth-Style! Earth Wall!"

Swish, swish, swish!!

Bang!

The scorching fireball slammed into the earthen wall, kicking up a massive cloud of dust, and when the wind blew through, the clearing was completely empty.

It was broad daylight, yet the sounds of slaughter filled this realm, blood splattered, screams echoed without end, and corpse after corpse began to pile up.

Yet right in the middle of this battlefield, two somewhat tender-looking youths were just muddying the waters.

While everyone else was unleashing all sorts of lethal ninjutsu, these two were actually locked in close-quarters combat with kunai.

"Hashirama!"

"Madara!"

Though the two fought fiercely and shouted at the top of their lungs, apart from a bit of dust on their bodies, they bore no other injuries.

If not for the fact that both held the status of eldest sons of their respective clan heads, one might suspect they had taken bribes from the other side.

The total number of people on both sides barely added up to a thousand, and looking down from above, it completely resembled a brawl between two villages, but in reality, just this handful of people caused destructive power entirely no less than an army of several thousand or ten thousand.

Because they all shared one identity, and that was "ninja".

Over a thousand years ago, the God of Shinobi, Hagoromo Otsutsuki, founded the Ninja Sect, scattered chakra across the world, and personally taught ninjutsu to his two sons, Indra and Asura.

Ever since then, due to the intervention of this extraordinary energy, countless factional disputes emerged across the globe, among which the Ninja Sect, Uchiha Clan, and Senju Clan passed down from Indra and Asura were the most powerful.

Yet due to various reasons, neither clan yielded to the other, and their strife had continued to the point where no one could tell who had struck first or who had started it all.

Hatred and conflict had long since penetrated deep into their bones and bloodlines, impossible to reconcile.

The great war between the two clans lasted for nearly three hours before each side gathered their wounded and returned home to lick their wounds.

A clash like this, if fast, would happen every couple of weeks, and at most, over a hundred times a year, almost becoming routine.

The length of the interval depended on the number of casualties they suffered; if casualties were low, then once healed, they would continue fighting a few days later, but if casualties were too heavy, they would conserve their strength, head back to spawn a few more brats first, and then resume the fight.

At the Uchiha Clan Grounds, situated in the most central and safest infirmary of the entire clan, a youth with his head wrapped in a thick layer of gauze frowned.

Two spiky-haired figures stood outside the room with extremely anxious expressions on their faces.

Finally, after a long while, a medical worker dressed in white emerged from the room.

"How is my younger brother?!"

Uchiha Izuna eagerly grabbed the person's shoulders, shaking them fiercely and asking loudly.

"I-Izuna-sama!"

Realizing who had arrived, the medical worker jumped in fright and stammered for a moment.

"Speak quickly! How is my younger brother?!"

"Izuna!"

Slap!

Uchiha Madara wore a solemn expression as he placed a hand on Izuna's shoulders, pulling him back, and after offering an apologetic nod to the clansman, he asked without panic.

"Ueki, how is my younger brother Uchiha Gen right now?"

"Young Clan Head, your brother is fine, but the injury sustained to his head is a bit deep, though for now his condition has stabilized; as for whether there will be any lingering ailments, we'll have to wait until he wakes up..."

"Mhm."

Hearing this news, Uchiha Izuna heaved a massive sigh of relief, and only upon learning there was no danger to his life did he let the medical worker leave.

Though Uchiha Madara didn't show much on the surface, he had been holding his breath inside too; he originally had five brothers, but now only the three of them remained, and if Uchiha Gen went as well, then only he and Izuna would be left to depend on each other.

In the Uchiha's traditionally brother-obsessed family, the weight of a younger brother rivaled that of an actual father, sometimes even surpassing a biological dad. (Reference: Itachi Uchiha slaughtering the entire clan yet sparing only Sasuke.)

"Alright, what Gen needs right now is rest; let's not go disturb him."

"Hah, understood, Big Brother."

Inside the hospital room, Uchiha Gen's brows were tightly locked; though he was unconscious, the pain radiating from his skull was not lessened one bit.

Hiss! Why is my head hurting more and more?

Lu Ziyuan thought somewhat uneasily. He shouldn't have drank so much booze before going to sleep, and it had even been draft beer—why did his head feel like it had been cracked open?

Right! Who sent me back here? I remember drinking away my sorrows alone at the shop, don't I?

This is terrible! My head feels like it's about to explode, how is anyone supposed to sleep?!

He abruptly snapped his eyes open, yet everything before him made him freeze in a daze, because he realized this didn't seem to be his own home. Could he have been kidnapped? But... he was right in the city center, what kidnappers had the guts to do that?

He sniffed at the tip of his nose—why was there a scent of disinfectant similar to formalin, yet not quite the same?

He was just about to push himself up with his hands, but the movement tugged at his wound, and a bone-chilling pain caused him to gasp sharply.

"What the hell! Hiss! What happened to my head?!"

Lu Ziyuan touchingly and shockingly felt his head wrapped in gauze, and this clear pain could not be wrong.

"I got my head cracked open? Who did it! I fuck your eightfold ancestors!!"

"Hiss!"

After easing for a long time, he finally leaned against the pillow to half-lie down slowly, scanned the furnishings around him, and silently pondered what place this was.

Huh? Why was someone pasting ping-pong paddle wallpaper on the wall right in front of them? No!!

Lu Ziyuan's pupils contracted, his Blood Wheel Eye stimulating involuntarily as two black little beans orbited within them.

That wasn't a ping-pong paddle! That was the Uchiha family crest from Hokage! But suddenly thinking of something else, his mood calmed down again.

To think this family is still Hokage fans; such an old anime still has people dedicated to it, so they must be hardcore veteran fans.

Thinking of this, his heart calmed down. Since they watched anime, it meant the owner of this house should not be a bad person either, let alone someone who watched Hokage.

Lu Ziyuan turned his head sideways, looking at the sky outside through the window propped up by wooden sticks. What a quiet and peaceful environment~ Even the air is so fresh, with so few dust particles. This place should be very far from a big city, right?

Sigh~ He also didn't know where this was, whether he had been rescued or what, and there wasn't even anyone to come and tell him about it, and moreover...

Growl~

My stomach is hungry. If I shout loudly, will someone bring me food?

His head hurt so much he couldn't sleep, and he didn't know how the wound was bandaged—how come they didn't even use local anesthetic?

After dazing a while longer, Lu Ziyuan was truly so hungry he couldn't take it anymore. His noggin hurt, his stomach was hungry, and half a day had passed without a single person coming to take a look.

"Somebody help! Someone's going to starve to death!"

"Come quickly somebody!"

After shouting a few times with screams like a slaughtered pig, Lu Ziyuan quietly waited for someone to come over and feed him, except...

"Ahem, my voice... how is it so tender?"