On the way back, Yechen did not say another word. He spent the entire journey pressing onward.
Abe Rō wanted to say something cheerful, but Ito Miyuki silenced him with a glare.
Though she was not even ten, the cruelty of the Shinobi World had been drilled into her from childhood. The horrific scene had unsettled her, but it was not something she could not accept.
Yechen was different. He had transmigrated into this world, and becoming a true ninja had never been his dream. Witnessing such a vile side of humanity on his first mission outside the village gave him a new understanding of this world.
If possible, he wanted to stay in the village forever. It was unrealistic, but he never wanted to take another C-rank mission.
Several hours passed in a blur. By the time they returned to the village, the sky was beginning to lighten.
"All right, you can go home and rest. There won't be any missions for the next three days, so take some time to relax."
"Understood, Sensei Nakagawa."
The three said their goodbyes and headed toward their respective homes.
Watching Yechen leave, Nakagawa Ichirō furrowed his brow.
"Though that boy kills without hesitation, he still can't be ruthless at heart. He won't awaken the Sharingan like this."
Nakagawa Ichirō gazed toward Aconite Mountain and sighed, then vanished from where he stood.
Meanwhile, a great fire was raging on Aconite Mountain. There were men's corpses inside the camp, and women's corpses too. If Yechen saw this scene, what choice would he make?
Back home, Yechen lay wearily on a bamboo chair and stared at the ceiling, his thoughts already drifting back to the earlier battle.
Only after a long while did he take off his equipment.
Though the entire mission had taken only a day, he felt as though a long time had passed.
Once, he would have hesitated for ages before killing even a chicken. Who could have imagined that he would now kill dozens of people without so much as furrowing his brow?
Have I really changed? Changed so much that I don't even recognize myself anymore?
The looks in those people's eyes before they died kept replaying in his mind, scene after scene. He could not even muster the energy to train.
Before he knew it, Yechen had fallen asleep.
His sleep was deeply troubled. In his dream, countless pairs of eyes stared at him. Their wails and sobs were like sharp knives trying to pierce his heart.
"Ah!"
The nightmare jolted Yechen awake. He checked the time. Only an hour had passed.
Unease filled his heart. Suddenly remembering those pairs of eyes from his dream, he pushed open the door and ran outside.
Several hours later, Yechen returned to Aconite Mountain. He froze at the sight of the burned-out camp.
With slow steps, he walked into the ruins.
There had been more than twenty wooden huts here last night. Now they had all burned down, and the corpses on the ground had been consumed by the flames.
Only a foul stench lingered in the air.
He did not know why he had come here. He only had a feeling, as though something were calling to him.
He wandered aimlessly, step by step, until he suddenly realized he had stepped on something. He backed up a pace and saw something that shocked him.
His pupils trembled. He could scarcely believe it.
It was a hand-a woman's hand. Though it had been horribly burned, the skin on the half buried in the dirt was not a complexion any of those bandits had possessed.
Yechen scraped away the dirt and dug out half an arm. He stared, stunned, at the pale arm stained with yellow earth.
"Why did this happen...?"
As though something had occurred to him, Yechen rushed toward the wooden hut at the very back. It too had burned down. He shoved aside charred posts and broke through the debris. When he saw what lay inside, he stood there as if possessed.
It was filled with corpses burned beyond recognition. Judging by their builds, they were not men, which meant they were not bandits. They were those women.
Yechen slowly walked over, looking at the burned women's bodies one by one, until his gaze finally settled on one of them.
This woman's body had suffered fewer burns. Only her clothes had burned away, and her upper body was ruined, but her face remained intact.
Yechen still vaguely remembered this woman. When the burly man had been abusing her, he had cut off the man's head and saved her. Yet in the end, she had still become a corpse.
"Why? Why couldn't you spare a group of pitiful women? They had already suffered enough! Why wouldn't you let them go?"
Yechen threw back his head and roared. The murderous fury within him surged wildly, and his Sharingan and Byakugan activated on their own.
An invisible pressure swept outward in every direction. This time, he was truly furious.
Of course he knew what the Shinobi World was like. The strong preyed on the weak, and people fought each other for their own interests-but those were matters between ninja.
Why wouldn't you spare even frail women who couldn't hurt a fly? What was all this for?
"Konoha-even the entire Shinobi World-you're all rotten to the core!"
Yechen was like a man possessed. Though his grief at that moment did not compare to what Madara Uchiha had felt all those years ago, his anger was no less intense.
He saw this era for what it was. Only strength would let him do what he wanted to do.
Yechen slowly rose and walked out of the camp, looking at the devastated land.
Without emotion, he unleashed the Great Fireball Technique, turning the entire place into a sea of flames.
What he burned was neither the evidence nor those corpses, but a heart that still held compassion.
"I am Uchiha Ye Chen. Have you all remembered that...?"