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While Manji's name was becoming known across the shinobi world, a tragedy on the far side of the continent was coming to an end.
The Land of Whirlpools had fallen.
Fortunately, Manji had already prepared for this outcome. Long before the destruction began, he had secretly dispatched White Zetsu to evacuate as many Uzumaki infants as possible—sending them to Mount Myōboku to be raised under its protection.
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Far to the north, deep within the Mountains' Graveyard, Madara Uchiha studied the latest intelligence report.
"The Land of Whirlpools is gone, but many survivors managed to escape and scatter across the surrounding nations. I've already sent White Zetsu to search among them for any suitable infants," Madara said.
His back was bent, and even his voice sounded weak with age.
Beside him sat Izuna Uchiha and Tobirama Senju, long tubes running from their bodies to the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path. By continuously drawing chakra from the statue, the two had managed to cling to life long enough to witness the outbreak of the Second Shinobi World War.
"So they ended up fighting again..." Izuna murmured, a complicated expression flashing across his face.
It had only been a few decades since the smoke of the First Shinobi World War had cleared.
"As long as people continue fighting over territory, wealth, and power, war will never truly end," Tobirama replied calmly, unsurprised.
In his eyes, the First Shinobi World War had been no different.
Even if he and Madara had refused to start it, someone else eventually would have.
"Forget it. Let the shinobi world deal with its own mess," Madara said, dismissively waving the matter aside.
Then he slowly raised his head.
A fanatical light burned within his cloudy eyes.
"Once the Infinite Tsukuyomi is complete, pain, hatred, and war will disappear forever. Everything will finally become perfect!"
Izuna and Tobirama exchanged uneasy glances.
Neither of them opposed the Infinite Tsukuyomi itself.
Their disagreement with Madara lay in one simple matter:
Choice.
Those willing to abandon reality could enter the dream and enjoy eternal happiness.
Those unwilling to lose themselves in illusion would remain in the real world.
Afterward, the three of them would use the White Zetsu to rebuild civilization upon the ruins of the old world and create a utopia without war.
Madara suddenly frowned.
His fingers froze over the intelligence scroll.
"Strange... When did Konoha produce someone like this?" He narrowed his eyes. "I've heard plenty about Sakumo Hatake, but this Manji... Why have I never heard his name before?"
Even after abandoning Konoha, Madara had never stopped monitoring the village.
Eventually, he would need to plant a pawn there to oversee his plans. Because of that, almost every rising genius in Konoha had appeared in his intelligence reports sooner or later.
Manji was different.
It was as though he had appeared out of thin air.
How could someone with that level of talent have gone completely unmentioned in every previous report?
"Manji... Manji..." Izuna repeated softly.
Then his expression changed.
"Wasn't that Great-Grandpa's name too?"
Tobirama frowned as well.
The old survivors who had lived through the First Hokage's era had grown up under that Uchiha elder's care. They were among the very few people in the shinobi world who knew his true name.
"It's probably just a coincidence," Tobirama concluded. "There's nothing strange about two people having the same name."
"He's only a talented commoner with no real background," Madara added, quickly losing interest. "No Sharingan or inheritance. Ninjutsu alone can only take someone so far."
He tossed the report aside.
"He'll never become a serious threat."
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In the Pure Land, Yū Uzumaki was suffering from an enormous headache.
The entire Uzumaki Clan had arrived.
Not just one family or a scattered group of casualties... The entire clan had been wiped out and sent to the Pure Land almost at once.
Yū stood near the entrance, grief twisting his features as one dead clansman after another appeared before him.
"Why?"
His voice trembled.
"Why did this happen? Were all my Uzumaki descendants really wiped out just like that?"
Ashina Uzumaki wiped away his tears and tried to comfort him.
"It's all right, Grandfather. At least our entire clan is together again in the Pure Land."
He sighed.
"The living world is full of treacherous people anyway. Maybe we're better off here."
Hashirama Senju approached them with guilt written all over his face.
"Lord Ashina, I owe you an apology. Still, I'm sure Konoha must have done everything it could to help."
The final head of the Uzumaki Clan immediately let out a cold snort.
"Hashirama Senju, Konoha is nothing but a pack of hypocrites!" His voice grew louder. "They didn't send us a single reinforcement!"
Hashirama froze.
"What?"
"Weren't the Uzumaki supposed to be Konoha's oldest allies?" the man demanded. "The moment we faced extermination, Konoha disappeared!"
His expression darkened further.
"And Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzō Shimura are the worst of them. They might look harmless on the surface, but underneath, they're utterly ruthless!"
Hashirama's expression stiffened.
"Konoha... really didn't send any reinforcements?"
"None!"
Hashirama immediately looked even more uncomfortable.
To symbolize the bond between the two clans, he had personally arranged for the Uzumaki crest to be placed on the backs of Konoha shinobi uniforms.
Yet when the Uzumaki Clan faced destruction, Konoha had simply stood by and watched them die.
Looking back now, all those declarations of lifelong friendship sounded like a cruel joke.
He could almost imagine how it had gone.
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"Don't worry," Hiruzen had once promised. "If anything ever happens, just call Konoha. The Uzumaki and Konoha will always be brothers!"
"Of course, brother! I trust you!" the Uzumaki had replied.
Then disaster struck.
"Brother! We're in trouble! You have to save us!"
And Hiruzen answered—
"Where am I supposed to find reinforcements at this hour?"
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"Come on, clan extermination happens all the time."
A voice suddenly interrupted from nearby.
The final leader of the Hagoromo Clan approached with undisguised amusement.
"My clan was wiped out back in Tsuru Senju's era. When the Senju and Uzumaki joined forces to destroy us, did either of you ever stop to wonder whether your own clans might suffer the same fate someday?"
The moment he heard that the Uzumaki Clan had been exterminated, he had rushed over specifically to enjoy the spectacle.
"Chief Hagoromo."
Tsuru Senju walked over with narrowed eyes.
"Are you looking for another beating?"
Futen Senju followed behind him.
"Please accept the Senju Clan's condolences. The Senju and Uzumaki will always be brothers."
"That's enough mourning."
Shūichi Senju arrived shortly afterward, accompanied by the founding head of the Uzumaki Clan.
"Since everyone's already here, we might as well have a drink and catch up."
The founding head of the Uzumaki Clan was none other than the boy who had once told Shūichi that he wanted to go to the island.
"By the way," Hashirama suddenly asked, turning toward the last Uzumaki clan head, "is Izuna Uchiha actually dead?"
The man stared at him strangely.
"Didn't Izuna die years ago? I heard he was killed on his way to peace talks with Kumogakure."
"Then why haven't we seen him in the Pure Land?" Hashirama asked, visibly confused.
So many years had passed. Yet Madara, Izuna, and Tobirama had still never appeared.
"I've wondered about that too." Tajima Uchiha walked over and joined the gathering. "And it isn't just Madara and Izuna. My grandfather should have died nearly fifty years ago, yet he never arrived here either."
Jin Uchiha stared at him in disbelief.
"Could the Great Elder still be alive?"
Everyone fell silent.
Before long, the group had gathered together, trying to make sense of the mystery.
"Maybe they committed so many crimes that they were sent to hell instead," Hashirama suggested.
"Impossible," Tsuru immediately replied. "Every one of us has plenty of blood on our hands."
He folded his arms.
"Compared to us, how many people could they possibly have killed? I exterminated the entire Hagoromo Clan, and I still ended up in the Pure Land."
The Hagoromo clan head's face twitched.
"If we can't figure it out ourselves, we should ask the Sage of Ninshū," Futen suggested. "He's the administrator of the Pure Land."
In their minds, the Pure Land was basically one enormous retirement server.
The Sage of Ninshū was its administrator.
And the Sage of Six Paths was the server owner.
"Does anyone here actually know the Sage of Ninshū?" Tajima asked.
Shūichi calmly pulled out his phone.
"I'll call my father." He opened his contacts. "He knows the Sage of Ninshū's son."
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