Naruto: After Seclusion Becoming Naruto Grandfather

Uzumaki Chito soared through the night sky, his sharp eyes fixed on the shadows of two Konoha operatives cautiously fleeing the city.

Through his observations, he had pieced together their role in the unfolding events. These two were pawns, stationed by Konoha in the Land of Fire's capital to manipulate the conflict between the Land of Fire's Guardian Ninja and Naruto.

Such treachery would not go unpunished. However, Chito had no intention of ending their lives too quickly.

He had planned to wait until the two operatives passed through the city gates and relaxed their guard. At that opportune moment, he would strike, delivering a surprise so devastating it would send them straight to hell.

But, as fate would have it, his plans were interrupted. Naruto's voice, loud and insistent, echoed through the air, summoning him.

With a resigned shake of his head, Chito muttered to himself, "I suppose I'll have to cut this short. Consider yourselves lucky—I was going to let you live just a little longer."

His voice, though quiet, was carried by the wind. For ordinary people, it would have been inaudible. But for seasoned Konoha elites, even the faintest sound could trigger their sharp instincts.

The two operatives froze mid-step, their heads snapping upward in unison. When their eyes met the figure in the sky—clad in a moon-white kimono, with flowing red hair that shimmered like fire—they felt an overwhelming sense of despair.

"Uzumaki Chito!!" they gasped in unison, their voices trembling with fear.

Hovering above them, Chito regarded the two trembling figures with a faint sigh.

"At least you're still standing," he remarked, his tone tinged with mockery. "That's already a step above those pitiful Guardian Shinobi."

He paused, then added with chilling finality, "For that, I'll grant you one chance: end your own lives."

The two Konoha operatives exchanged glances, their expressions filled with resignation. Chito's words were ambiguous—was he praising their resolve or ridiculing their plight? It hardly mattered.

"It's over," one of them murmured, his voice heavy with despair. He closed his eyes, drawing a short blade from his side. Its edge gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

"Encountering Uzumaki Chito means death is inevitable. To die quickly, by my own hand, is a mercy."

With a swift motion, the blade cut across his throat, leaving a crimson streak in its wake. Blood gushed out, pooling at his feet as his body crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

The second operative, however, hesitated. His hand trembled as he tried to steady his blade. No matter how many times he raised it, he couldn't bring himself to deliver the fatal blow.

Finally, overwhelmed by fear, he dropped to his knees. Looking up at Chito, he pleaded desperately, "My lord, I surrender! I'll join Shin-Konoha—I'll serve you faithfully!"

Chito's expression hardened, his lips curling in disgust. His eyes burned with disdain as he spat, "Shin-Konoha is no garbage dump for the likes of you."

With a sharp exhale, Chito released a burst of white energy that condensed into a blade. It streaked through the air, piercing the chest of the kneeling operative with deadly precision.

The man let out a guttural scream as a gaping hole appeared in his chest, blood spilling out in torrents. Yet the attack didn't kill him instantly.

"Ahhhh!" The man writhed in agony, his face contorted into a grotesque mask of pain. Blood smeared his features, making him look like a demon straight out of hell.

"Kill me!" he wailed, his voice hoarse and desperate. "Please, just end it!"

But Chito merely sneered. Without sparing him another glance, he turned and began to drift away, his voice cold and unfeeling.

"That is the price of making me dirty my hands."

The man's cries grew weaker as despair consumed him. His thoughts turned inward, filled with regret.

Why didn't I take my chance and end it earlier? Why did I grovel? I'm such a fool!

Meanwhile, Chito remained indifferent to the man's torment. He neither knew nor cared about the operative's final thoughts.

Instead, he followed Naruto's voice, descending upon the Daimyo's mansion with practiced ease. Landing gracefully, he locked eyes with Naruto, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement.

"Naruto," Chito began, his tone sharp and uncompromising, "you have five minutes to give me a reason—a good one—for calling me here. If not..."

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within them. "When we return to Shin-Konoha, I'll personally train you for five minutes every day."

The threat sent shivers down Naruto's spine. Unlike others who underestimated Chito, Naruto was fully aware of his grandpa's capabilities.

Though Chito often appeared kind and gentle, his strength and ruthlessness in battle were nothing short of terrifying. The mere thought of enduring his "training" was enough to make Naruto's blood run cold.

Even a single minute of Chito's personal training would feel like a nightmare. Five minutes a day? Unthinkable.

Panicking, Naruto blurted out his explanation at breakneck speed, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

"Grandpa! This is the Daimyo I found!" he began, gesturing toward Hikaru, who stood nervously by his side.

"But neither of us knows what it takes to actually become a Daimyo! I didn't know who else to ask, so I called you! The Nine-Tails said that back when the Uzumaki Clan was still alive, you were the son of a Daimyo. That's why I thought you'd know how this works!"

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