Eating Is for the Weak

Nohibi rapidly tightened his facial muscles.

He took a deep breath, forcibly smoothed away the smile at the corners of his mouth, and straightened his back.

In a single second, his gaze shifted into something deep and distant, forcefully putting on the persona of a steady, reliable chief minister who "planned strategy from behind the curtain."

At that moment, Sakumo, standing behind Ye, felt out of courtesy that he could not simply ignore the person in the courtyard.

So he casually greeted Nohibi.

"Nohibi, you're still busy this late? Haven't eaten yet?"

Nohibi heard someone speaking to him.

He only glanced over, without really processing it.

After all, his mind was entirely occupied with maintaining the lofty image of being "the Night Faction's number-one lackey."

Nohibi slightly raised his chin, presenting a profile angled forty-five degrees toward the starry sky.

The Three-Tomoe Sharingan in his eyes flickered faintly in the night.

He let out an extremely contemptuous, clipped sneer.

"Heh, so it's Sakumo."

Nohibi replied arrogantly in the weathered tone of someone who had seen through the mortal world.

"Eating is merely satisfying one's appetite. Only the weak need to replenish their energy."

"Everything I, Nohibi, do is for the greater cause. How could sparrows understand the ambitions of swans?"

Outside the gate, the air suddenly fell silent.

Sakumo stood outside the main gate, his fingers stiffly scratching his silver-white hair as the expression on his face completely froze.

He had fought countless battles, killed innumerable powerful enemies, and chatted and laughed with Kage Level experts from every nation.

But faced with an Uchiha who had activated his Sharingan and was discussing how "eating is for the weak" in such an abstractly edgy tone—

For the first time, he understood what it meant for language to fall short.

There was