"A Hyuga brat?" Hiroki echoed, genuinely puzzled. "Why would he be tailing me?"
"Unknown motive," the ANBU shinobi Shichen replied, his voice flat and emotionless. "He's followed you for roughly two to three hundred meters, relying solely on the Byakugan's X-ray vision."
Hiroki stopped walking.
A Hyuga branch child spying on me?Is the Hyuga Clan plotting something?
He glanced at Shichen, kneeling silently on one knee. Hiroki had no interest in speculating or wasting time. As everyone knew, the fastest way to understand someone was to ask them directly.
And if the boy refused to talk—well, Hiroki considered himself reasonably competent at interrogation.
"Bring him here," Hiroki said decisively.
"Yes, sir."
Shichen vanished instantly.
Almost the moment the order left Hiroki's mouth, a muffled cry and brief struggle echoed nearby. Shichen reappeared just as quickly, holding a terrified branch-house boy by the collar like a chick.
The child wore faded branch-family robes. His arms and face were still marked with half-healed bruises and scrapes.
Head lowered, he avoided Hiroki's gaze, fingers clenched tightly around his hem. His entire body trembled.
Thud.
Shichen released his grip, and the boy tumbled onto the ground in front of Hiroki.
The fall hurt, but the child didn't even react. The instant he saw Hiroki clearly, his body began shaking uncontrollably. He lowered his head further, as if afraid even eye contact might bring disaster.
"Got a problem?" Hiroki asked calmly, looking down at the battered boy. "Why were you following me?"
The boy's lips quivered. He opened his mouth—then froze.
No words came out.
Fear, self-loathing, and terror of the main house pressed together into a suffocating weight in his throat.
He tried again. Still nothing.
Standing before him was a legendary genius—a hero who had slain elite Sunagakure ninja with his own hands, a "big shot" even the Uchiha clan treated with gifts and humility.
And he was… nothing.
A failed branch-house child who couldn't even secure his late father's pension.
Would someone like this really help him?
The gap in status felt like a chasm, and the shame crushed his courage before it could become words.
Hiroki sighed softly, impatience creeping in.
Talking to people could be such a hassle.
He raised a finger and lightly tapped the boy's forehead.
[Ding~]
[Detected connectable external computer "Hyuga Itsuki." Temporary link established via Chakra Communication Protocol.][Open and view files?]
In the next instant, chaotic thoughts flooded Hiroki's mind like a barrage of bullets.
HELP—Hiroki—request—he's strong—beat foreign ninja—must have a way—
"Mother—main house—trouble.log—how do I say it—will he help—what if he ignores me—what if he tells them—Mom will—"
|Please.log|: Please… please help…
Hiroki withdrew his finger, surprise flashing across his eyes.
"You think I can help?" he asked, voicing his genuine confusion. "But I don't even know you. Why come to me?"
The boy shuddered violently, realizing his thoughts had been laid bare.
Hiroki didn't wait for an answer.
Memory fragment — Ninja School.g:"We were classmates—even back then he was amazing—"
Now—he's a big figure in the Village—
Memory fragment — overheard gossip.log:"Even the Uchiha give him gifts—the ANBU obey him—"
HELP—reason.g:"Of everyone I know—he's the only big shot—I—I have no choice—"
Hiroki pulled his finger back, his expression turning complicated.
More than the thoughts themselves, what struck him was the face he'd glimpsed among those fragments—the boy's father.
Coincidentally, that man had been the Hyuga ninja who first discovered Hanzou during the operation in which Hiroki had participated.
He had died on that mission.
And now his son stood here, believing Hiroki to be a "big shot."
A big shot?
Me?
Hiroki instinctively glanced toward Shichen, who stood silently in the shadows.
Then he felt the weight of the brocade box in his ninja pouch—the one the Uchiha had given him.
A strange sense of unreality welled up.
When had it happened?
When had he, without noticing, truly become the kind of person others placed their hopes on—someone who could decide life and death?
Just months ago, he'd been nothing more than a transmigrator killing time.
With the help of his Golden Finger, only a short while had passed, yet his strength had skyrocketed. He'd defeated Rasa. He'd helped bring down Hanzou.
But only now did he realize—
In the eyes of others, he was already a big shot.
Power had settled onto his shoulders quietly, and his plan to change the Ninja World was advancing whether he acknowledged it or not.
Hiroki took a deep breath.
At the very least, this boy's father had been a Jonin who helped him accomplish his goals. Even if they hadn't been close, Hiroki felt he owed the man something.
A hero's child deserved better than this.
But how should he handle it?
Storm the Hyuga compound and demand answers?
That felt too abrupt—almost crude.
"Shichen," Hiroki said after a moment's hesitation, "report this to the Third Hokage. Ask for his view."
Instinctively, he tried to push the headache upward.
"Yes, sir."
Shichen vanished again.
Less than half a minute later, he returned.
"Lord Hiroki," the ANBU said while kneeling, "the Hokage's reply is as follows: you are to handle this matter yourself."
He paused, then added, "The Hokage instructed me to tell you—you are now a Konoha higher-up. You must learn to deal with issues like this."
Handle it… myself?
Hiroki froze.
Me? A Konoha higher-up? At ten years old?
Did I even have the ability to resolve something like this?
Was the Third Hokage grooming him already?
If he messed this up, what then?
Hiroki hesitated.
The next instant, he entered his mental space and forcefully terminated a newly spawned process.
[Hesitation.dll — End Process]
Enough.
What was the point of wavering?
Worst case scenario, he could always brainwash the entire Hyuga Clan.
To change this rotten Ninja World, he couldn't just talk about ideals—he had to act.
Sawada Hiroki had the power.
And now, whether he liked it or not, he also had the responsibility.