After properly arranging Shisui's follow-up treatment plan, Itachi's tightly-stretched nerves finally slackened a sliver.
At this time, he finally had the mind-spirit to go inquire about the doubt within his heart.
That was exactly who it was that beat Shisui to the point of heavy injury bordering on death.
"This matter..." Takuno rubbed his chin, his tone carrying a few fractions of deliberate hesitation, "If truly counting it up... it's feared it must be blamed upon Hokage-sama."
"Hokage-sama?!" Itachi's pupils contracted; this answer completely overturned all the anticipations within his heart.
He completely did not expect it would be this kind of result.
Takuno did not conceal it, cleanly and objectively describing that soul-stirring duel course together with subsequent Obito's sneak attack toward Itachi once through.
At the end, he supplemented: "As for the deeper reason, perhaps you ought to personally go ask your father Fugaku; he within his heart should be clear."
Listening through Takuno's narration, a strand of difficult-to-express complex emotion churned within Itachi's chest.
Scattered clues rapidly pieced together within his mind; he perhaps had already guessed the reason for this single battle's eruption.
He recalled the past bits and drops of fighting side-by-side and freely chatting about ideals with Shisui—that companion's character that appeared gentle yet was in fact matchlessly unyielding and decisive...
Being capable of making this kind of choice, Itachi within his heart bottom could actually not breed half a fraction of surprise.
Then, Shisui's this body of near-fatal injuries—ultimately who should go back-bear this heavy criminal responsibility?
Fourth Hokage Minato? Of course impossible...
Tracing back to the source of everything, all of the causes pointed toward that masked man who hid his head and curled his tail, calling himself "Uchiha Madara"!
If it were not for the other party, perhaps this single conflict between the Uchiha and the village would basically not explode, and the battle between Shisui and Minato would naturally completely lack necessity!
Itachi's fist was silently gripped tight, his finger joints turning minutely white due to force.
He deeply inhaled a single breath, suppressing his boiling emotions before opening his mouth to say, "Adult, I will go over to father's side to see if there is anything needing assistance."
"Go ahead." Takuno minutely nodded his head, "I need to head toward the Shinobi Hospital to deploy some more precise medical apparatus, so I will not walk together with you."
"Yes." Itachi cleanly responded in voice, his figure instantly transforming into a blurry remaining shadow, rushing at an extremely rapid speed toward the other side.
Takuno looked at Itachi's back, gently shaking his head.
Looking at it from the current situation, a most fitting "responsibility-bearer" had already actively floated up to the water surface—precisely Obito.
This conversely saved the Hokage the trouble of originally needing to go fabricate a reasonable explanation.
Of course, even if possessing this ready-made "scapegoat," those Uchiha radical faction members who participated in scheming this matter also should not think of completely breaking away.
The death penalty can be avoided, yet the living punishment is conversely difficult to escape.
Takuno's thoughts traveled for a brief moment before throwing these disturbances behind his brain.
To speak down to the core, the Uchiha clan's internal entanglements and liquidation possessed no relationship with him.
The subsequent direction, with his identity and status, also lacked the need for excessive speculation.
Merely quietly waiting for days, naturally there would be a detailed report presented before him.
Thinking like this, Takuno no longer lingered, turning his body to step out his stride, unhurriedly walking toward the village.
...
Kamui space, a patch of deathly silent distinct territory.
Here there was no warm sunlight, no vast sky, only congealed dark-gray and eternal virtual-nothingness.
Obito's figure was currently situated within this patch of space; he pulled out from that failed sudden raid at the Uchiha clan ground, the vortex mask upon his face already taken down, revealing that distorted face of his.
One half was the remaining handsome look of a youth, while the other half was a heart-palpitating withered wrinkle.
Black Zetsu was tightly stuck to his side like a viscous shadow, while White Zetsu conversely bore an unbefitting-the-time active breath, leaping and bouncing around his surroundings.
Obito moved his shoulder a bit; benefiting from the powerful Hashirama cells inside his body, the heavy injury caused by Minato's record of Rasengan was at this moment healed back to the original state.
However, the body's restoration was unable to smooth out the storm within his inner heart; a massive question shrouded him.
Minato—exactly how did he appear behind his back?
When he launched the sudden raid, he had already scanned and watched the surrounding environment countless times.
Where his vision reached, there absolutely did not exist any single specialized Flying Thunder God kunai belonging to the Fourth Hokage!
The other party could completely not possess foreknowledge, leaving a technique formula mark upon the ground of that location ahead of time.
Then, the answer was near-desiring to come out fully, pointing toward a possibility that caused his spine to turn winter-chill.
That Flying Thunder God mark—perhaps it was precisely branded upon his own body!
Obito's thoughts rapidly back-tracked within the long river of time.
Was it student days? The teacher had once carelessly touched himself during instructional training? No... he instantly negated this thought.
At that time Minato-sensei toward him possessed only pure care; he should not bury such a deep-reaching foreshadowing.
Another memory fragment fiercely pierced into his mind—the Nine-Tails Night! That life-and-death struggle! He had once been solidly and truly hit by Minato's Rasengan upon his back!
Yes! It was precisely that single flash!
His heart abruptly tightened, Obito's look instantly becoming matchlessly sinister and dark.
He lacked any hesitation, tearing open his own upper body's clothing, revealing his spine.
"Wow oh!" White Zetsu exaggeratedly shouted out loudly, approaching near to look closely, his voice filled with an astonishment akin to discovering a new continent, "Obito! When did you engage in artistic creation upon your back? When we first met you were clearly bare-skinned! Carving words and didn't call me together? Too un-comradely!"
Black Zetsu at the side—his voice was low and hoarse, carrying a sliver of understanding: "This is... the Flying Thunder God's technique mark?"
"As expected... right here." Obito's voice was ice-cold to the bone, every single word as if squeezed out from between his tooth gaps.
A strand of humiliated feeling of being calculated, mixed with lingering fear, churned within his chest.
This Flying Thunder God mark was precisely the key to his sudden raid's failure when victory was a hairsbreadth from completion!
If it were not for it, Shisui would already be an object within his bag, and the plan would also smoothly advance forward!
However, beneath this surge of fury, there actually also mixed a sliver of luck-feeling.
If it were not for this single time being accidentally exposed, this hidden fatal mark would be like a timed bomb, exploding at some critically vital moment in the future.
The next time facing Minato, what was within the other party's hand was feared to no longer be a hastily condensed Rasengan.
But was conversely that ninjutsu sufficient to smash Susanoo to pieces... reaching that time, even if possessing the addition of Hashirama cells, his flesh-and-blood body also absolutely had no possibility of enduring that kind of powerful ninjutsu!
This failure, in a certain sense, actually sounded an alarm bell for his future self, buying back a single life!
Right now, the urgent matter of the moment was how to eradicate this hidden trouble.
Erase it? He attempted every kind of sealing technique and chakra erosion, but that mark was like a bone-attaching maggot, stubbornly branded within the depths of flesh and blood; any effort attempting to directly eliminate it was all futile and lacking success.
Time flowed away amidst the oppressed silence.
Obito's look ultimately became matchlessly decisive.
He no longer hesitated, a chakra scalpel condensing within his hand, the sharp blue light flashing past once within the dim space.
"Uh-ah!" An oppressed muffled groan.
Obito bit his teeth tight, his look fierce and harsh, manipulating the chakra blade to forcefully gouge out that single patch of flesh and skin branded with the Flying Thunder God mark upon his back, together with a bit of tissue beneath it, completely!
Fresh blood sprayed out wildly, yet beneath Hashirama cells' powerful regeneration capability, the bleeding rapidly stopped.
Very quickly, upon the wound position covered over a layer of wriggling, pale substance.
That was filled and made up by utilizing White Zetsu's flesh and blood.
The newborn flesh and blood, compared together with the surroundings, appeared exceptionally pale, like a sudden patch.
Obito's face was tragically pale, the intense pain causing him to minutely pant for breath.
Witnessing all of this, Black Zetsu opened his mouth at the right time: "Obito, next how should we act? Our existence has already been exposed. Desiring to once more utilize the Uchiha clan as a chess piece is feared... to be difficult upon difficult."
Hearing this, Obito's movement minutely lagged.
He fell silent for a brief moment, ultimately slowly shaking his head: "...Temporarily, abandon direct action toward Konoha. Put it aside first."
Black Zetsu's gaze hidden within the shadow flickered for a flash, revealing a clear disapproval.
Leaving alone Konoha—this massive threat—unmanaged, especially Minato who possessed the Flying Thunder God Technique as well as Shisui who possessed the Mangekyō Sharingan, would boundingly become a core trouble in the future.
But acting as the guide behind the scenes, he understood that at this moment forcefully objecting was by no means a wise move.
"Understood." Black Zetsu responded in a low tone, hiding that piece of doubt deep within his heart bottom.
After all, at this moment standing before the stage executing chess was Obito.
What he could do was solely, within the shadow, continue waiting and... guiding.
...
Several days passed past, the dark cloud shrouding above the Uchiha finally scattered open; that internal crisis of the Uchiha clan welcomed its ultimate settling of dust.
The result of the liquidation—the majority of criminal accusations logically fell upon "Uchiha Madara's" head.
This was by no means an groundless framing; the investigation team during the follow-up deep mental checks toward the radical faction members indeed discovered traces of having been applied with some kind of powerful hint.
Although this hint was not a flawless top-tier genjutsu, toward those Uchiha clansmen who already harbored dissatisfaction and possessed radical wills, it was already sufficient to become the last straw of grass that crushed down their reason.
Warping these radical faction members from upholding the creed of "not killing fellow clansmen" instantly into a crazy state of "indiscriminate slaughter."
These controlled radical faction members, even if the matter emerged with cause, subsequent to it also needed to accept the punishment of Konoha's laws and regulations.
However, compared to the end of these executors, the true power reshuffling happened at the Uchiha's decision-making stratum.
Those clan elders who behind the scenes supported and even incited the radical faction's actions, after this conflict of flowing blood, thoroughly lost their footing land, forced to dejectedly step down from power.
This single chain of variations caused the voices within the Uchiha's internal parts that had held back each other for many years to finally tend toward unity.
The direction clan leader Fugaku persisted in—attempting to ease the relationship with the village and integrate into Konoha's mainstream—although it would still encounter the questioning of scattered stubborn elements, their voices had already been compressed to being micro-minor, no longer capable of forming substantive resistance.
Reviewing the casualties of this single conflict, the result was outside of expectations.
Looking upon the surface, Shisui, who opened Susanoo and was akin to a demon god descending to earth, caused the strongest visual impact.
But searching finely beneath, this genius praised as "Shisui of the Body Flicker"—the slaughter he caused was actually not counted as much.
That heaven-destroying and earth-extinguishing green titan of his had never mobilized any single item of terrifying pupil technique or ninjutsu attack, merely utilizing Susanoo's that massive spiral sword to perform physical piercing.
Therefore, the number of clansmen truly falling beneath his sword was actually still far lower than the unreserved internal fighting between the first wave of radical faction and dove faction members.
Even if so, Shisui's image within a portion of the clansmen's hearts had already irrecoverably collapsed.
This sudden drop of prestige was destined to pay a price.
Even if the matter he performed was correct, it was also like this!
Of course, these toward the Uchiha were still capable of being accepted.
What truly forced the Uchiha into a desperate land was the material destruction caused by that battle.
The energy aftermath generated by Hokage Minato and Shisui's peak duel caused the entire Uchiha clan ground's land to be plowed through once.
The once scattered-and-arranged houses—not a single one was spared, entirely transforming into broken walls and remaining ruins; the area near the battle core directly became a deep crater wasteland.
Such a severe loss—even with the accumulation of the Uchiha clan, its wealth was also instantly squeezed dry.
Fortunately, the Hokage's side did not watch with folded arms.
Minato in the name of the village allocated urgently needed construction materials and a portion of capital to carry out support; this only then let the Uchiha clan avoid the awkward situation of wind-meals-and-dew-sleeping.
However, this was merely a cup of water to a cart of firewood.
It could be foreseen that within the long future years, every single Uchiha member, from ninja to civilian, all could not help but desperately accept missions for the sake of rebuilding their home, using sweat to repay this expensive "reconstruction debt."
Especially those past radical faction members; their missions could be described as the core of core weights.
Takuno quietly flipped through the report recording all of these details, the corner of his mouth sliding past a sliver of an understanding smile.
All developments had never exceeded his expectations.
Toward the Uchiha, this was undoubtedly an opportunity of bathing in fire and being reborn.
Subsequent to the intense pain, throwing off history's heavy burden and the internal stubborn resistance, their relationship with Konoha, if no accidents happened, would step into an unprecedented "honeymoon phase."
Toward him, all of this was as if a meticulously arranged drama.
He sat upon the audience seats full of interest, coldly watching the plot slowly unfold before his eyes.
What was even more important was borrowing this to observe just how massive a storm he, this "butterfly," had fanned up inside this world of Naruto.
"Heh, the influence looks to be not small indeed..." Takuno gave a light laugh, carrying a few fractions of playfulness, "Even the Uchiha's massacre was straightly fanned away into nothingness."
However, these changes did not stir up many waves within his heart.
How the plot direction collapsed, how the world line shifted—toward him all were lacking importance.
He merely needed to follow steps and rules, along the road he himself had already planned out, to firmly walk down and that was enough.
Just like... Takuno looked at that pair of Mangekyō Sharingan within the mirror; the power it possessed was indeed powerful enough.
It was just a pity that this pair of eyes did not belong to him.