Is That You, My Grandson?

Ye's face showed a timely expression of struggle and pain.

At times, he frowned; at others, he seemed to want to speak but held back.

Every now and then, he "casually" mentioned how ANBU had been tailing him in the village and how his clansmen had been marginalized.

Madara fixed his eyes on Ye's reactions, then dropped another bombshell.

"Those ANBU are constantly prowling around the outskirts of the Uchiha compound."

"Everything you do is under the watch of Hiruzen Sarutobi and Shimura Danzō."

He paused, slowing his speech.

"This is how the village you swore to serve repays you."

Ye lowered his head.

He bit his lower lip and clenched his fists.

At the mention of ANBU surveillance, he suddenly looked up, resentment flashing in his eyes as though a sore spot had been struck.

Madara watched the shifts in Ye's expression, the calculation in his Sharingan growing ever thicker.

This child was not only exceptionally powerful, but his mind was easy to manipulate as well.

He was even easier to guide than Madara had expected.

With just a little provocation, he could make him completely lose faith in the village and become dependent on him.

The bond of kinship, the debt of saving his life, and the sense of identification born from this "grievance."

Three layers of shackles had already been firmly locked in place.

All that was needed was an opportunity to make him completely side with him.

The second piece was about to fall into his net.

Madara secretly reveled in his success.

Just as Madara was about to deliver his final conclusion and tighten that invisible rope.

Ye, still looking down, suddenly spoke.

"Senior..."

He raised his head, his expression flawlessly sincere.

"May I ask you something?"

Madara gave a slight nod.

"You've been here