Naruto Immersive Replay, The Curse of the Sharingan

The old Hokage's temples throbbed as memories flooded back—

On the night the order to exterminate the clan was issued, the Hokage Building was eerily quiet; even the chirping of insects had disappeared.

Hiruzen Sarutobi was reviewing the last document when he suddenly noticed the ink spreading on the paper. His hand was trembling uncontrollably—no, not just his hand.

The air in the entire room was trembling, as if some enormous creature was approaching.

"Who?" Hiruzen suddenly looked up, his hands already forming a defensive hand seal.

There was no response, but the door to the Hokage's office slid open silently. The sight in the corridor made the veteran ninja's pupils shrink. All the patrolling ANBU ninjas stood frozen like statues, their shadows stretched long and twisted in the moonlight, covering the walls.

Everyone's eyes were unfocused, yet a strange smile lingered on their lips.

"Illusion...when...?"

Cold sweat trickled down Hiruzen's wrinkles. He had only ever seen one other person possess such a high level of genjutsu skill—an elite ninja who could control an entire building without alerting him: Uchiha Shisui.

But the water has already stopped...

"Sandaime."

The voice came from behind him, and a chill ran down Hiruzen's spine. There was a figure standing next to his desk.

It was a girl who looked to be sixteen or seventeen years old, wearing a black robe embroidered with red clouds, sitting cross-legged on his mountain of documents.

The moonlight streamed down from behind you, gilding your silhouette with a silver edge, while leaving your face shrouded in shadow.

Only those hands, crossed over the chest, stood out starkly white in the darkness.

Hiruzen's throat tightened; he hadn't even realized that the other person was...

How did it appear? I didn't even sense any chakra fluctuations. That's impossible, unless...

"Who are you...?"

You chuckled softly, causing the room temperature to plummet. You slowly leaned forward, and the moonlight finally illuminated your entire face: porcelain-white skin, delicate features, and those...those chilling eyes.

The amount of chakra contained in those eyes reminded him of the unfathomable power, like the ocean, that his teacher, Tobirama Senju, had once displayed.

"You are from the Akatsuki organization...?" Hiruzen Sarutobi forced himself to remain calm, his finger stealthily moving towards the alarm mechanism under the table.

The girl—no, the monster—tilted her head, and the red cloud pattern on her robe was as dazzling as blood in the moonlight.

"Li Nu." You casually uttered this code name.

Hiruzen's heart felt as if it were being gripped by an invisible hand. For the past year, his name had haunted the five great nations like a nightmare.

Destroying the high-ranking officials of the Land of Grass in just three minutes; single-handedly suppressing the rebellion in the Sand Village; causing the Daimyo's government in the Land of Iron to change course overnight... Each of these was a major event that could change the landscape of the ninja world.

"Surprised?" You picked up a document marked 'Top Secret' with your toe and casually flipped through it. "I didn't actually plan to take action against the five great powers, but today..."

You suddenly close the file, "...Maybe I should give it a try?"

Hiruzen Sarutobi felt a wave of dizziness; the room seemed to be distorting, and the shadows on the walls began to writhe. He bit his tongue, using the pain to stay awake. "I wonder if Konoha has offended Lord Tanuki in any way...?"

You let out a short, cold laugh. Hiruzen Sarutobi looked up and met his fully activated Mangekyou Sharingan.

“The Uchiha clan was wiped out.” Every word you uttered was like a knife piercing Hiruzen’s heart. “What a clean and efficient plan, not even sparing infants.”

Hiruzen Sarutobi's lips trembled, and those eyes... This "tanuki" who struck fear into the hearts of the entire ninja world was actually a member of the Uchiha clan!

"I...I can explain..." The old Hokage's voice was so dry it didn't sound like his own.

You suddenly floated down from the table, your robes unfurling like wings. Instead of walking, you hovered in the air, slowly approaching the Sun Slash.

As you approached, Hiruzen Sarutobi felt his chakra flow become sluggish, making it impossible for him to even perform the simplest ninjutsu.

"Explanation? For example, how to persuade Itachi Uchiha to slaughter his own clan? Or how to conceal the truth about the Nine-Tails' attack from the villagers?"

His pupils contracted to the size of pinpoints, and you don't even know that...

"Don't be nervous." You lightly touched the ground with your toes, returning to the ground from the floating state. "After all, I'm also working for that person."

Hiruzen Sarutobi's pupils suddenly contracted, his wrinkled fingers unconsciously gripping his Hokage robes, his knuckles turning white. What level of monster could make someone like "Tanuki" refer to "that person"?

"He is Uchiha Madara."

These words struck Hiruzen like a heavy hammer blow to his chest. The old man staggered back a few steps, his back hitting the bookshelf, and the scrolls clattered to the ground.

His lips trembled, each syllable seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth, "U...Chi...Ha...Madara?"

Impossible, absolutely impossible. That legendary ninja who fought the First Hokage at the Valley of the End should have died decades ago...

But the reality before you is undeniable: the chakra surrounding you begins to distort space, the air ripples like water, and the walls of the Hokage's office bend and deform like melted wax.

This was not an illusion—Hiruzen's senses clearly told him that this was pure energy overflow, a terrifying force powerful enough to tear reality apart.

“No wonder…” Hiruzen’s throat was as dry as a desert. The order to exterminate his clan had now become the most ridiculous self-inflicted grave.

He couldn't imagine what kind of annihilation Konoha would face if Madara Uchiha were still alive, along with this monstrous girl in front of him.

Your Mangekyou Sharingan twitched slightly, seemingly enjoying the old Hokage's fear. "Lord Madara has only one request: allow the Uchiha clan to be stationed in the Land of Rain. Whether you agree or not, I have already sent people to relocate them."

Hiruzen's breath hitched for a moment. Shift?

You seemed to read his mind, thinking, "A wise person doesn't waste words."

Turning towards the door, his robes gleamed crimson in the moonlight. "I don't want to hear about the existence of the Konoha Uchiha clan. Consider them expelled. As for Lord Madara and the Land of Rain..."

You glanced back at Hiruzen, a look that sent a chill down the old Hokage's spine. "I don't think the Third Hokage would gamble with Konoha."

"I... understand." Hiruzen Sarutobi's voice was barely audible. For the sake of Konoha, he had no other choice. The sin of annihilating his clan was irreversible, and all he could do now was to minimize the crisis facing Konoha.

The old Hokage's back was even more hunched over, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

Your hand was already on the doorknob, but you suddenly stopped. "By the way, Konoha's attitude towards the descendants of heroes is truly remarkable."

With your face slightly turned to the side, the moonlight outlines your defined jawline. "The Nine-Tails Jinchuriki has fallen so low that he can't even afford to eat."

These words struck Hiruzen more effectively than any ninjutsu; the old man's face turned deathly pale instantly, as if he had been stabbed in the chest.

Before he could respond, your figure had already disappeared into the shadows of the office.

Only your last words still echoed in the air: "It's... disgusting hypocrisy."

"Lord Hokage? Lord Hokage!"

Hiruzen Sarutobi suddenly snapped back to reality and found his secretary standing in front of his desk, looking at him with concern. It was dusk outside the window, and the setting sun had dyed the entire office blood red.

"Are you alright? I've called you several times already."

Hiruzen looked down at his trembling hands. He didn't know when, but the 1000 taels of silver had been crumpled in his hands, and the edges were soaked with sweat.

He took a deep breath, opened the drawer, and took out a stack of brand-new banknotes.

"It's nothing... I just remembered some things from the past." He forced a smile and handed the money to his secretary. "Take this to Naruto. Just tell him..." His voice choked up for a moment, "...tell him to come to me if he needs more."

After the secretary left, Hiruzen walked unsteadily to the window. On the Hokage Rock in the distance, Naruto's graffiti had been cleaned up.

But under the setting sun, faint traces were still visible in the cleaned areas, like unhealed scars.

The old Hokage suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. He turned sharply to look at the shadowy corner of the office. There was no one there, but he was certain that just now, a pair of Mangekyou Sharingan had been watching him in the darkness.

Hiruzen Sarutobi trembled as he drew the curtains, but he couldn't stop the feeling of being watched. Your words echoed in his mind, each word like a thorn, deeply piercing his heart.

The old Hokage slumped in his chair, finally realizing a terrifying truth: the great tree of Konoha had long been hollowed out from the inside, and he, Hiruzen Sarutobi, was the gardener who had personally planted the termites.

Scorpion held a delicate gear between his fingertips, the tips of the tweezers gleaming coldly under the light. His reddish-brown hair fell down, casting dappled shadows on his pale face.

The sound of the door hinges turning was barely audible, but Sasori's ear tip still twitched slightly. He didn't look up, but his hand paused almost imperceptibly. There was only one person in the entire Akatsuki organization who could silently sneak into his studio at this time.

"Scorpion, did you make this for me?" A cool female voice rang in my ears, carrying a rare hint of joy.

Scorpion's eyelashes trembled slightly, and a black cuff appeared in his vision, stained with undried ink. You probably just returned from the Daimyo's mansion in the Land of Rain.

"Hmm," he responded briefly, but his Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably.

The puppeteer's slender fingers traced the puppet's shoulder armor, the measurements he had secretly taken while you were out.

When your figure was completely enveloped in the light, Scorpion had to squint.

Scorpion forced himself to focus his attention back on the screwdriver in his hand, only to find that you had already leaned in close.

The ends of his hair brushed against the back of his hand like a cloud carrying static electricity; worse, when you pointed to the energy amplifier on the puppet's chest, warm breath brushed directly against his earlobe.

“This device…” Sasori’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and the screwdriver slipped between his fingertips, “It can withstand an impact of the Tailed Beast Ball level.”

"I can't wait to try it."

Scorpion didn't turn around, but silently nodded. Moonlight shone through the stone window, casting the two shadows on the wall, the overlapping part resembling an embrace.

"I heard from Hidan..." you suddenly changed the subject, "...that you want to spend a billion to buy the mechanical heart I gave to Kakuzu?"

Scorpion's back stiffened as he recalled the day he chased Kakuzu through three countries like a madman.

"Yes, that's true." He admitted softly, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of gears turning.

“I’m already working on it.” You suddenly patted him on the shoulder. “Next month you’ll see your own mechanical heart!”

He simply lowered his eyes and said, "...Thank you."

"We're companions, no need to be so polite."

He stared at your retreating figure as you walked towards the door, and suddenly noticed the weapon belt that was faintly visible at your lower back. His gift should have been pinned there, but now it was empty.

“Your katana…” he blurted out.

"It was damaged in Daming Prefecture today and is waiting to be repaired."

“I’ll help you.” He lowered his head and continued adjusting the puppet’s knee joints, his voice muffled by his red hair. “Come pick it up tomorrow.”

Are they really just companions...?

On the workbench, the unfinished puppet lay quietly.

Only the scorpion knows that it will utter its first and only words upon activation.

"I love you, from the parts to the core."

Chapter 124 The King's Game (1)

Deidara, like a fox on a treasure hunt, rummaged through the clutter in the storage room, dust dancing in the beam of light. As he opened a box of old ninja tools, a glint of light suddenly pierced his eyes.

The blond boy blew away the spiderwebs covering it, revealing a dusty disc with a distorted human figure on the cover. The blood-red title, "Tales of the Moonlit Night," had faded somewhat.

Deidara's blue eyes lit up instantly, his fingertips excitedly tracing the edge of the disc. "This is getting interesting, hmm!"

He immediately pictured you being terrified by the scary scenes in his mind, perhaps instinctively grabbing his arm? Or hiding in his arms? The boy's ears burned, and he almost tripped over his headband when he stuffed the disc into his clothes.

The courtyard of the base was bathed in twilight. You sat on a stone bench covered with wisteria, your black hair casually tied up with a kunai, a few strands of hair hanging down and swaying gently with the turning of a book.

He was reading a book about ancient sealing techniques, his eyes darting between the obscure words, so engrossed that even the blue butterflies perched on the vines dared not disturb his concentration.

A small pebble lands precisely on the page. When you look up, you see Deidara standing against the light under a cherry blossom tree, the wind ruffling his dazzling golden hair, the hem of his Akatsuki robe fluttering in the wind.

"Hey, you wicked girl!" He waved the disc in his hand; the grotesque face on the cover looked especially eerie in the twilight. "A super thrilling horror movie, wanna watch it together? It's sure to be fun, huh!"

You close the book, the ancient text making a dull thud. "Deidara, how many times have I told you—"

"Don't call me a wicked girl?" The boy had already jumped in front of you, exuding the scent of sunshine and gunpowder.

Deidara deliberately leaned closer, his nose almost touching your forehead. "So what should I call you? Tanuki?" His voice suddenly lowered, with a grainy texture. "Or... 'Villain' suits you better."

Despite his sharp tongue, his gaze lingered like a cautious butterfly over your eyes and brows, and when he realized you didn't immediately reject him, a brilliant light shone in his eyes.

"Can't you just take a break for a bit?" you sighed. "I rarely have time to read a book."

Deidara squatted on the stone table in front of you like a large dog, his robe ruffling the pages of the book.

He shrugged. "I'm just concerned about you. All you do all day is experiments and reading, how boring! My art is much more interesting than these moldy papers, huh!"

He pulled out a clay doll from his pocket, still warm from his body. It was a small figure about three inches tall, so detailed that you could see every strand of hair flying in the wind.

It's clearly a miniature version of you; the doll holds a tiny scythe, and the red cloud pattern of the Akatsuki organization is hidden in the folds of the samurai robe.

With your fingertips hovering in mid-air, you recognize this as "Snowy Mud," the rarest type of Explosion Clay, which has a porcelain-like texture but never cracks.

The boy probably had material left under his fingernails from the effort of shaping the body.

"Well done." As you took the doll, your fingertips brushed against the calluses on his palm from years of playing with clay. The base of the doll was engraved with tiny words: "To the Wicked Woman, my 520th masterpiece."

Deidara suddenly held his breath. You turned the puppet's angle so that the clay refracted an iridescent halo. This action reminded him of the elation he felt when he first successfully detonated C1.

"A gift for me?" You looked up and saw that the boy's ears were so red they were almost bleeding.

Deidara suddenly sat up straight, his robe billowing in the wind. He pretended to adjust his headband, but actually used it to cover his burning face. "So, do you want to watch a movie with me?" His voice was eight octaves higher than usual.