UCHIHA KING OF THE SOULS

Mitarashi Red Beans

"Oh, by the way, there is something I need to remind you, young patriarch."

"What's the matter?"

Uchiha Fugaku furrowed his brows slightly. Had he overlooked something crucial?

"I believe that no matter who ascends to the position of Hokage, the Uchiha clan must maintain a consistent stance and cannot abandon the other candidate."

Uchiha Fugaku's expression darkened. "There is no issue with Minato, but if it's Lord Orochimaru, the Uchiha would need to make a tangible investment."

"We Uchiha are wealthy, but we can't afford to be reckless."

"Of course, we must be pragmatic. I should have been clearer."

"What I mean is that while we can exchange benefits of equal value, we cannot abruptly cut off financial support."

"Even if Lord Orochimaru fails in his bid for Hokage, his strength, status, and influence remain significant. We must tread carefully."

At this point in time, few could have predicted that Orochimaru—one of the Sannin, a disciple of the Third Hokage, and a serious Hokage contender—would eventually betray Konoha. Given that, Uchiha Gen's words were logical.

Orochimaru's influence was undeniable. Even after more than a decade as a rogue ninja, Konoha struggled to suppress information about him, yet shinobi like Mizuki still idolized him.

"Don't worry, I'm not so short-sighted. As long as there are equivalent benefits, I have no issue continuing financial support."

Uchiha Gen's expression flickered slightly. "Young Patriarch, that's not what I meant, I just—"

"Don't overthink it. I know you're acting in the best interest of the clan. How could I fault you for that?"

Though Fugaku was pleased with Gen's cautious approach, he maintained a composed and reassuring expression.

Uchiha Gen exhaled lightly. "It's getting late, I won't take up more of your time. I'll take my leave."

"Go ahead."

Fugaku gave a slight nod, picked up the brush on his desk, and turned his focus back to the stack of official documents.

Leaving the office, Uchiha Gen did not head home but instead sought out Uchiha Yashiro at the Konoha Military Police Force.

First, he borrowed Yashiro's office to draft a letter before sending it out. Second, he used the police force's intelligence network to pinpoint the approximate location of Mitarashi Anko.

For one, Orochimaru was notoriously elusive—meeting him directly at his known residence was unlikely. Additionally, etiquette dictated that when requesting an audience, one should first send an intermediary with a formal greeting letter.

Not that Gen particularly cared for decorum. With Orochimaru's well-known obsession with talent, as long as one was useful, he wouldn't be concerned about social formalities.

However, Gen wasn't merely representing himself; he bore the name of the Uchiha clan. Thus, proper protocol was necessary.

Once he located Mitarashi Anko, Uchiha Gen left the police station and exited the clan district, heading toward Konoha's bustling commercial area.

About ten minutes later, he arrived at Sweet Home, a well-known confectionery on Konoha's main shopping street.

This shop was famous for its sweets, particularly its dango skewers and anko soup.

"Welcome!"

Two waitresses in red-and-white uniforms, resembling shrine maidens, brightened when they saw Uchiha Gen's striking appearance. Their voices turned softer and more eager than usual.

Gen smiled slightly. "One bowl of red bean soup and an order of dango, please."

The two waitresses, momentarily flustered by his charm, hurried to place his order at the counter.

Being good-looking had its perks. He never experienced this kind of attention in his past life.

Gen chuckled inwardly before casually scanning the room. Then, he strode over to sit near a girl with short lavender hair, dark brown attire, and an assertive aura.

The girl, enjoying her dango and anko soup, looked up and frowned slightly. "Who are you?"

Today, Uchiha Gen wore a blue shirt and white slacks, his confident smile giving him a fresh and refined look.

"Hello, my name is Uchiha Gen."

"Uchiha?" Anko, then twelve years old, tilted her head. "You don't look like the stuck-up kind."

"What do you want from me?"

Gen didn't bother with pleasantries. He pulled out a white envelope and got straight to the point. "I want to meet your teacher, Lord Orochimaru."

"Not just on my own behalf, but representing the entire Uchiha clan."

"Consider these dango and anko soup a token of gratitude for your help."

Right on cue, the waitress arrived with his order, and Gen gestured toward the food.

Anko's eyes sparkled, her throat bobbing. She grinned, clapped Gen on the shoulder, and said, "You've got good instincts! Alright, I'll help you out."

"Enjoy your meal."

Gen nodded slightly and waved off the waitress.

"Aren't you going to introduce yourself properly?"

"We'll probably be fellow disciples soon."

As he spoke, Gen slid the dango and red bean soup toward Anko.

"Fellow disciples?"

Anko chewed on a piece of dango, looking him over with skepticism.

"Orochimaru-sensei doesn't take just anyone as a student."

Of course. It made sense that Anko hadn't been present at the Third Shinobi War's front lines—her absence on the Kumogakure battlefield explained why no one had heard of her then.

At this point, Orochimaru still retained some of his humanity. After witnessing his former teammate Nawaki die in war, it was only natural that he would avoid putting a Genin like Anko in such danger.

With Orochimaru's status, strength, and influence, he could easily protect his apprentice.

"That doesn't matter. I'm confident I'll meet the requirements."

"We'll see about that." Anko smirked. "I wouldn't mind a junior."

"Why not an older brother figure instead?"

Anko narrowed her eyes. "I was here first."

"But I'm older than you. I turned thirteen this year, so I should be stronger."

Anko crossed her arms. "Being a year older doesn't mean you're stronger!"

"I'm plenty strong!"

She set down her spoon, rolling up her sleeves to emphasize her point.

Gen, resting his chin on his hand, responded casually, "But I'm already a Jōnin."

A Jōnin?

Anko froze, as if struck by lightning.

How was that possible?

A Jōnin at thirteen?

Was this guy some kind of Kakashi-level prodigy?

No way. Absolutely not!

"Anyone can brag," she scoffed. "I could say I'm Hokage already."

"Want to bet on it?"

"What kind of bet?"

"If I'm a Jōnin, you'll have to accept that you're my junior sister."

"And if you're not?"

"I'll acknowledge you as my senior and treat you to sweets indefinitely."

If he was lying, she'd have free desserts for life.

But if he wasn't…

No, that was impossible!

Anko grinned confidently. "Deal."

Gen smiled, then sat up straight and weaved a quick hand sign.

With a poof, white smoke cleared, revealing a perfect copy of himself.

Customers glanced over briefly but quickly resumed their conversations.

They were Konoha villagers—seeing ninjutsu in public wasn't unusual.

"Go home and get your Jōnin certificate," Anko challenged.

"Sure."

As Gen walked away, Anko muttered, "That was a Shadow Clone, wasn't it?"

"Good observation," Gen replied smoothly.

Anko's face darkened. Shadow Clone was a B-rank jutsu—tough for most Chūnin.

She might really be the junior here…

"Cheer up. Isn't having a senior a good thing?"

"I don't need a big brother. I have a teacher."

"But would Orochimaru-sensei intervene in minor squabbles?"

Anko's confidence wavered. Orochimaru valued efficiency—he wouldn't waste time on trivial matters.

Maybe having a senior wasn't so bad.

Anko brightened.

"Fine! But don't get cocky, big brother."