"Looks like… I really do have the strength to pull it off."
Hikaru sat upright, his expression strange—like even he hadn't fully processed it yet.
But after thinking it through carefully, he realized he truly could do it.
And if luck was on his side, he could even do it very well.
From the beginning, Hikaru's thinking had been boxed in.
He kept fixating on the Nine-Tails paired with Uchiha Obito, which stopped him from properly considering whether he could actually handle them.
Especially since he'd obtained the "crippled Asura's power" only recently—he hadn't fully adapted yet—so he didn't have a clear grasp of his own strength.
But now that he'd calmed down and analyzed it seriously, he had to admit something:
He really might be able to deal with Obito.
Even factoring in the Nine-Tails, it wasn't impossible.
"I know everything about Obito. You could say he has no secrets in front of me at all!"
Obito—still far from Six Paths level, far from even pseudo–Six Paths—wasn't as terrifying as people imagined.
The real threat was his ocular jutsu.
And the Yin–Yang techniques he'd learned from Uchiha Madara… or from Black Zetsu.
This wasn't the late-stage era where everything turned into sage arts everywhere, Wood Release everywhere, Mangekyo secrets treated like common sense, Susanoo covering the sky, and meteors falling whenever someone felt like it.
Right now, information was still a decisive factor in battle.
And Hikaru had Obito's information.
That alone meant he held a massive advantage.
Of course, turning an advantage into a guaranteed win wasn't simple—because Obito's eye technique really was the most disgusting ability Hikaru had ever seen.
Under that technique, Obito simply didn't fear attacks.
With the Sharingan's perception layered on top, he could preemptively dodge at absurd levels.
He could hit you whenever he pleased…
…and you couldn't hit him back.
But Obito also had weaknesses.
And in the original story, Minato Namikaze had already tested one of them for Hikaru.
Obito could have the Sharingan…
…but his fundamentals were a mess.
Back in class, Obito had been the dead last.
Unlike Naruto, Obito didn't have a Nine-Tails inside him interfering, and he didn't suffer from being ostracized and deprived of proper education.
Obito simply… wasn't that bright.
To put it bluntly: his intelligence was genuinely mediocre.
His "wisdom" rating being a two wasn't a joke.
Madara choosing him was likely because Obito was kind—too kind.
Mangekyo awakening wasn't tied to power.
The more "pure" an Uchiha was, the more likely they were to awaken it—whether that purity was pure good, or pure evil.
Obito was pure good.
And once that pure good got twisted—combined with the Uchiha's trademark emotional extremity—a plunge into the abyss was almost inevitable.
And Obito now wasn't the Obito of the future.
He had power, but not the capability to match it.
Even with Mangekyo, when he fought Minato, his attack speed and reaction speed lost out.
At first, Minato suffered because he didn't know Obito's trick.
But once Minato figured out the pattern, it turned into a complete reversal.
"My reaction speed and attack speed aren't weak either. And I have Flying Thunder God… plus Wood Release."
"In close-range offense, I'm even better suited than Minato."
"And I know Obito's kit. I know exactly how to deal with him…"
The more Hikaru thought about it, the brighter his eyes became.
He'd underestimated his own position in this era.
At this point in time, he wasn't weak at all.
Obito was manageable.
Even if Obito couldn't be killed and simply retreated, Hikaru remembered that Minato had left a mark on him.
So even if Hikaru went to handle something else first, he could still use that mark later for a lethal strike—stopping Obito from interfering with the "important work" Hikaru wanted to do.
As for the Nine-Tails…
That was the real strategic nightmare.
Its destructive power—especially against ordinary ninja and civilians—was beyond imagination.
A strategic weapon. Not a metaphor.
But even if the Nine-Tails was terrifying, Hikaru wasn't without options.
He had a summon large enough to match it.
And Minato had one too.
If they could drag the Nine-Tails outside the village, the damage would drop sharply.
And if they added Gamaru and Bunta into the fight, then the Nine-Tails wouldn't be as impossible as it sounded.
"So… it really looks like I can save Minato."
Hikaru rubbed his chin, thinking carefully.
Now, he stood at a crossroads like never before.
Save him or not—already a serious question.
But how far to save him—an even heavier one.
Because Hikaru truly, obsessively wanted the Fifth Hokage seat.
Only by becoming the Fifth Hokage could he leverage the system to obtain even more.
He turned it over and over in his mind—
and still couldn't reach a clean conclusion.
If he handled this badly, he might have to wait ten years—maybe twenty—before he even had a chance to compete for Hokage.
That was unacceptable.
"Hikaru-sama, please have some tea."
While Hikaru was frowning and stuck, Senju Renge's voice reached him.
He snapped back to reality.
She walked up carrying a tray, still as respectful and cool as ever—like she'd fully accepted the role of a servant.
"Thanks." Hikaru rubbed his brow and took a cup. "And I told you—you don't have to be like this."
"Hikaru-sama is the clan's hope. I must maintain this attitude toward Hikaru-sama."
Renge lowered her head, speaking slowly, as if she truly believed those words.
Hikaru glanced at her—at that beautiful, expressionless face—and suddenly felt bored.
She really did seem like the type he could do anything he wanted to.
But for some reason, that type didn't stir him much at all.
So yeah…
That saying about "the more you're treated like trash, the more you get addicted" really did apply everywhere.
…
After mentally cursing his own trash instincts, he stopped wasting energy on it.
He took a sip of tea.
He had to admit it tasted good.
Hikaru wasn't a tea person—in his previous life he drank more coffee, and in this life he drank mostly plain water.
He couldn't really judge what made a tea "good."
But Renge's brew seemed to have honey mixed in.
It carried the tea's fragrance and honey's sweetness together—perfectly suited to his taste.
He set the cup down, then patted the sofa lightly.
"Sit. Stop standing there."
"That's not proper, Hikaru-sama," Renge said, shaking her head.
"So disobeying me is proper?"
Hikaru smiled and asked casually, "Or have you been obeying someone else the whole time—even after coming here?"
Renge's expression twitched.
She quickly lowered her head and said nothing.
But that reaction was answer enough.
Hikaru stood.
He placed the cup back on the tray.
Then he hooked two fingers under Renge's chin.
With a slight lift, he forced her lowered face up—no matter how she resisted, it was useless.
He looked at her—at the way her lips were pressed together—and kept smiling.
He'd already known the outcome.
So he wasn't disappointed.
He just needed to make his stance clear.
He was willing to do things for the Senju clan.
He had no intention of pushing the Senju into the abyss.
But that didn't mean he would tolerate certain games.
He needed the Senju.
And the Senju he needed would be under his control.
Now that he had Wood Release, if someone still tried to restrain him with "special methods," then he would do something that would truly disappoint them.
"Looks like I guessed right."
Hikaru's smile grew brighter—and his grip tightened.
Renge made no sound.
Even as her jaw reddened, even as it felt like it might crack.
"Strong, aren't you?"
Hikaru released her chin.
Before she could recover, his hand slid down—landing on her throat.
His fingers closed gently around her neck.
Then he applied pressure.
In an instant, she couldn't breathe.
"Think carefully."
His grip tightened further, yet his voice remained mild—like he was chatting with a friend.
"You have one minute. After one minute, I'll be interested in hearing you speak."
He watched her.
Twenty seconds—she was already struggling, but her eyes stayed shut, her body refusing to move.
Thirty seconds—her body began to tremble, still with eyes closed.
Forty seconds—her face flushed dark red.
Fifty seconds—her expression turned frightening, yet she still didn't move.
Hikaru was genuinely surprised.
He knew exactly how hard he was squeezing.
Even he wasn't sure he could endure that suffocation.
His smile widened.
He wanted to see how long she could last.
Sixty seconds—Hikaru still didn't let go.
And he increased the pressure.
He was still monitoring her vital signs.
He wanted information. He wanted to send a warning to whoever was behind her.
He did not want to kill her.
Not because of any sentimental "cherish the beautiful" nonsense.
As a proper ANBU, Hikaru had killed plenty of beautiful kunoichi—especially honeytrap agents who traded their bodies for intel.
Beauty could move him.
But it would never make him lose his head, never make him abandon his principles.
Seventy seconds—Renge's life signs started to weaken.
And in that moment, she opened her eyes.
Those eyes were no longer indifferent.
Real emotion finally surfaced—like a normal human being.
Was it resentment?
Relief?
Hikaru watched calmly.
At eighty seconds—right before her consciousness fully blurred—he finally released her.
Renge collapsed heavily to the floor.
Her head struck the ground with a dull thud.
The tray toppled, the cup shattered, tea spilling everywhere.
That impact seemed to pull her back from the edge.
She gasped and gulped air, desperate and ragged.
She had truly walked through the gate of death.
"Good eyes," Hikaru said softly near her ear. "Very good."
Then he added, still gentle:
"But here's a friendly reminder. If you think silence is a valid answer to me, I don't mind sending Senju Shojin a corpse."
"The choice is yours."
"You have twenty seconds to speak."
Hikaru fell silent and simply watched her.
Time ticked away rapidly as he counted down in his mind.
With ten seconds left, she finally lifted her head.
"The orders I received were to care for Hikaru-sama's daily life… and ensure the continuation of the Wood Release bloodline."
Her voice was hoarse—Hikaru's grip had been too heavy.
But this time, there was clear fear in her words.
Her emotions were no longer cold and flat.
"Then who ordered you?" Hikaru nodded lightly and crouched down. "Senju Shojin?"
"No."
Renge shook her head, clenched her teeth, and finally forced it out.
"Elder Shojin chose me, and he warned me not to anger you… but the Senju clan isn't controlled by Elder Shojin alone."
"I'm not surprised."
Hikaru smiled and reached out to straighten a few strands of her messy hair.
Then he continued calmly:
"I have plenty of subordinates in ANBU. I've known for a long time the Senju aren't unified inside."
"But I don't care about that."
"What I care about is what you choose next."
"Think carefully—because your choice determines whether you live."
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