NOVEL NEXT Chapter 32: Like A Dog
Inside a dimly lit room,
BANG!
The sound of a fist crashing down echoed through the narrow confines of the underground chamber, reverberating off cold stone walls. Dust particles danced in the air, illuminated by the flickering light of a single, wavering lantern. The table splintered beneath the blow, snapping into jagged halves, fragments scattering across the floor.
"Damn it!" roared a deep voice, each syllable infused with raw fury. The source was a man of formidable presence—Danzo Shimura. A hardened face, creased with the burdens of shadowy decisions, framed by a deep, jagged scar running across his chin. His eyes, dark and piercing, blazed with barely restrained rage. It wasn't just anger; it was the simmering wrath of a man whose carefully laid plans were unraveling.
Around him, cloaked figures knelt in silent deference—his Root operatives, trained to suppress emotion, to be tools rather than men. Yet even they couldn't hide the tension that gripped them. Beneath their masks, shallow breaths and quickened heartbeats betrayed their fear. The room felt suffocating, the very air thick with unspoken dread. Danzo's fury was a storm, and they were leaves in its path.
"They were supposed to sabotage Fugaku Uchiha's tests," Danzo seethed, his voice low and venomous. "I gave them clear orders. Precise orders! Yet, each trial has gone perfectly... flawlessly. What are my subordinates even doing out there?!"
The silence deepened, each second stretching into an eternity. The lantern's flicker cast long, wavering shadows on the stone walls, adding an eerie weight to the room. One of the operatives, wearing a panda mask, shifted slightly, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck. He dared not move more than that. Danzo's anger was a blade poised over their necks, ready to fall at the slightest misstep.
The Hokage Competition was reaching its climax—the final stage, the Combat Tournament. For Danzo, it was the culmination of days of meticulous plotting. He was confident in his own strength; in his mind, there were only three people in the current Konoha capable of rivaling him: Hiruzen Sarutobi, the aging Third Hokage; Uchiha Jima, the enigmatic recluse; and himself. The notion that Fugaku or Shisui Uchiha had alreay reached the Kage-stage never crossed his mind.
Yet Fugaku's rise was undeniable. His popularity among the villagers was surging, a wave that threatened to drown Danzo's ambitions. Every cheer, every whispered word of support for the Uchiha leader felt like a dagger. Sabotaging Fugaku's tests had been a necessity—a calculated move to paint him as a fraud, a cheater and get him disqualified. But now, those plans lay in ruins.
Minutes earlier, a report had arrived. His elite operatives, handpicked for their skill and loyalty, had failed. Worse, they had been found dead outside Konoha's borders. The bodies bore unmistakable signs of battle with the Uchiha. Danzo's grip tightened around the splintered remains of the table.
"The Uchiha... they dare defy me?" he whispered, the words barely audible but dripping with menace. "They'll learn the price of their arrogance."
He pointed a finger at the masked subordinate. The man flinched, almost imperceptibly. "You."
"Yes, Lord Danzo!" The voice was steady, but a tremor ran beneath it.
"Go to the Hokage's office. Tell him I request a private meeting." Danzo's eye narrowed, the fire in them unrelenting.
"Yes, Lord Danzo!" The subordinate disappeared, a shadow swallowed by darkness.
Danzo leaned back, fingers steepled, eyes narrowing. The competition's rules were strict. Direct contact with the judges was forbidden, and the Hokage himself was one of them. Any violation would lead to disqualification—an outcome Danzo could not afford. He needed this meeting.
***
Outside Konoha,
A lone figure sat perched on a gnarled tree branch, the shadows of the leaves weaving patterns across his spiral-patterned mask with a single eye hole. The wind rustled, whispering secrets only he could hear. Long black hair swayed gently, a dark curtain framing a face hidden from the world. His voice, though soft, carried an edge sharp enough to cut steel.
"The Hokage Competition... what a farce," he muttered, eyes fixed on the distant glow of Konoha.
Obito Uchiha, known now only as Tobi, clenched his fist. "If Danzo becomes Hokage, civil war is inevitable. Konoha will tear itself apart. But if Fugaku wins..." He paused, the words hanging in the air, heavy with implication. "A united Konoha would be... problematic. I can't let that happen."
The forest around him seemed to hold its breath. The moonlight filtered through the branches, casting eerie patterns on the ground. Then, a soft rustle. His single visible eye snapped to the side. From the shadows emerged a young man, his Konoha headband glinting under the pale light. Itachi Uchiha—calm, composed, unreadable as always.
Obito descended from the tree, landing silently before the teenager. "Have you made your decision?"
"I have." Itachi's voice was calm, but beneath it lay a steely resolve, a depth of emotion carefully concealed.
"Good. We execute the plan tonight."
There was a pause. Then, Itachi spoke, eyes narrowing. "Why do you want to eliminate the Uchiha?"
Obito's visible eye gleamed with amusement. "You misunderstand. It's you who wants to protect Konoha, even at the cost of your clan. I'm just... helping."
"You know about the competition," Itachi pressed. "If Fugaku Uchiha becomes Hokage, there will be no civil war. The peace of Konoha will be preserved."
Obito's eye narrowed, the Sharingan spinning slowly. "What are you getting at?"
"There's no need to eliminate the Uchiha anymore." Itachi's voice was a blade in the dark, each word deliberate.
For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension.
"Huhuhuhu.... Hahahahaha~!!!"
Then, Obito laughed. It started as a low chuckle, rising to a manic crescendo that echoed through the forest.
When he finally stopped, his voice was a whisper of steel.
"You're loyal... loyal to the end just like a dog. But whether the Uchiha live or die isn't your decision to make. It's mine. And I've decided they die. Period."
The wind swept through the forest, leaves rustling like whispers of ghosts.
SHING.
Itachi's blade was in his hand, its point unwavering. "I won't let you."
Obito's eye narrowed. "You think you can stop me?"
"I don't need to."
A blur of motion. A flash of black.
BANG!!
CRASH!!
Obito was sent hurtling through the trees, crashing through the underbrush. Emerging from the shadows was a young man with sharp, gleaming eyes and a short sword.
"Am I late?" The young man smirked, his voice light but his eyes deadly serious.
Itachi's lips curled into a rare, small smile. "Right on time..."
"Shisui,"
***