Lying on the ground at night, I was almost internally injured from laughing so hard.
This old man has been underground for too long, and his brain must be rusty.
Fellowship?
The gift of life?
Arrange a puppet to beat the person half to death, then jump out and pretend to be a good guy to save the person.
Three more shackles?
Crazy output in the heart of the night.
Come.
Just act.
I want to see who deceives whom in the end.
Ye's breathing was as steady as a hibernating dead person, his face was pale and just the right amount of weakness.
To be honest, the vast vitality of Sage Body in the body has long since repaired the previous concussion injuries.
There was deathly silence in the cave.
Only the phosphorus fire flickered on the stone wall.
Mizukage has left at this time.
Demonic Statue of the Outer Path's huge body cast a large shadow. Madara leaned on the stone chair, closed his eyes and rested, looking like a chess player who had decided the overall situation and was waiting for the end.
Two chess pieces, one light and one dark, are enough to overturn the entire Shinobi World.
He tugged at his chapped lips and waited to watch the show.
In the corner, Ye's eyelids trembled.
He squeezed out a few weak coughs from his throat and dug his fingers into the cold stone.
Then, his eyelids struggled to open a crack.
The green phosphorus fire came into view.
He squeezed out several hoarse dry coughs from deep in his throat, and clenched his fingers tightly on the stone slab beneath him, his knuckles straining so hard that veins popped out.
He raised half of his body with his arms, breathing heavily.
Ye Fen controlled his facial muscles perfectly, his brows tightened, the corners of his mouth twitched with pain, and a thin layer of sweat oozed from his forehead.
He made his breathing become heavy and irregular, perfectly replicating the state of a seriously injured and dying person who was just waking up.
He slowly turned his neck and his eyes passed over the remains of Demonic Statue of the Outer Path towering into the shadows. The surface was covered with dry bark textures.
Then he passed by the mottled ancient stone carvings on the wall, and passed by the thick life-support pipe connected to Demonic Statue of the Outer Path.
Finally, his eyes were fixed on the center of the cave.
There was a rough stone chair there, with a haggard old man sitting on it.
The back is connected to several thick nutrient transport pipes, and dark red liquid flows in the pipes.
The old man was staring at him.
Ye's pupils suddenly dilated.
In the next second, his facial expression completed the triple sequence of "shock → confusion → disbelief".
The jaw is slightly open, the muscles around the eyes are tense, the breath is held, and the chest rises and falls violently.
His eyes moved from the face full of dry cracks and wrinkles to the huge pipe behind him, and finally focused on the pair of Sharingan glowing with lavender light.
Ye shrank back, her back hit the cold stone wall, and her Adam's apple rolled up and down.
"You... you are Madara Uchiha?!"
The voice was split, the voice was dry and trembling, and the final note was out of tune as if someone had strangled the neck.
The horror of the young ninja's first encounter with the ancient God of Death is vividly interpreted.
On the stone chair, Madara's skinny fingers tightened.
The old man raised his jaw slightly.
The originally carefully designed self-introduction link was skipped by this brat with just one sentence.
In those turbid Sharingan, a rare flash of real surprise flashed through.
"How did you recognize me?"
His tone was low and steady, as if he was stating the facts. Under the illusion of calmness, he could not hide his deep-seated confusion.
He has lived for a long time, hiding in the deepest darkness of Shinobi World. A teenage Konoha kid has no chance of recognizing him.
Ye swallowed a mouthful of saliva, pressed her back against the stone wall, and maintained an extremely defensive posture.
He spoke hurriedly, speaking at a slightly faster pace, showing a person's unconscious desire to speed up and express himself under extreme tension.
"There is a portrait of you in the Uchiha Clan's warehouse."
He raised his right hand and pressed it hard on his heart.
"And, from the moment I opened my eyes, a strong resonance arose in my blood."
"That kind of call from the bloodline of my own race makes all the blood in my body agitate..."
"Combining your appearance and these eyes, I can only come up with this answer."
Madara was silent for three seconds.
Sharingan narrowed his eyes slightly and carefully examined the young man in front of him.
After a while, the old man's chapped lips formed a very shallow arc.
"Bloodline Resonance."
He repeated these four words with a hint of playfulness in his voice.
It's really interesting. This proves that this son's Uchiha bloodline is pure to the extreme, enough to sense his own existence across several generations.
In his mind, Madara's rating of this chess piece was directly raised by one level, and the quality was higher than expected.
Ye stared at Madara's expression and sneered in his heart.
Do you believe this?
[Ding! Satisfactory confirmation value from Madara Uchiha, +1200!]
The night face remained motionless.
He used his hands and feet to "struggle" to get up from the stone slab, with just the right amount of weakness in his movements.
He reached out to cover his painful left shoulder, his eyes changing from awe to eagerness and confusion.
"Madara... senpai, why am I here?"
"My last memory is that I was attacked by Third Mizukage. That guy was ridiculously strong."
He gritted his teeth and frowned even more.
"How are my teammates doing?"
Madara leaned forward slightly, his old voice carrying a hint of compassion.
"It was me who saved you from that puppet Mizukage."
He paused for a second, emphasized his tone, and struck at the opponent's psychological defense line with his words.
"As for your companions, I have no obligation to take action. I can only save you out of the kindness of my own clan."
Ye stayed in place.
His facial expression changed rapidly, from feeling lucky to have survived the disaster, to being touched by the kindness of his elders, to feeling embarrassed when facing a strange and powerful man.
The performance of the young man's restraint after being touched by the kindness of his elders was spot on.
"Madara! You saved me? But didn't you leave the village long ago and leave Uchiha Clan alone..."
"Don't use that nondescript name."
Madara snorted coldly and interrupted mercilessly.
The old man's fingers tapped the armrest of the stone chair, making a dull "thunk" sound.
"I have indeed cut off contact with Konoha and Uchiha Clan."
"But the bloodline will not be cut off. You and I are all of the same race."
"You can just call me senior."
Nod your head at night and respond obediently.
"Yes, senior."
He lowered his head and deliberately let a hint of choking appear in his voice.
"Senior saved me... thank you..."
"No need."
Madara raised his hand to interrupt, speaking indifferently, "Bloodline is bloodline after all."
Ye Xinxin had already scolded Huahua.
Pretending to be cool and refined, all the plotters behind the scenes are Konoha and Uchiha. This old guy is more addicted to drama than me.
Madara leaned back in his chair again and began to dominate the conversation, releasing the bait without leaving a trace.
The conversation that followed was like a chess game that both parties knew well.
Each of Madara's words is a carefully polished fishhook, with a "seemingly casual" tone, planting dark seeds into Ye's heart layer by layer.
The old voice echoed in the cave.
"The senior management of Konoha has never really trusted Uchiha."
"The rules formulated by Tobirama Senju are still in operation today."
"They pushed you onto the battlefield to face a life-and-death fight, but they firmly held the core power of the village in their own hands."
"You have extraordinary talents and outstanding strength."
"But in their eyes, you are just a useful weapon of the village."
"If you are not careful, you will be in danger."