Twelve participants, each officially assigned a game character, were placed into randomized three-man free-for-alls.
Of the twelve special guest players in this showcase match, only Kakashi and Obito had played the game before. Everyone else—including Namikaze Minato—was new.
That said, fairness wasn't the point of this showcase. It was about spectacle.
Letting two kids familiar with the game make it to the finals? Great spectacle. Letting the brand ambassador, Minato, as a total newbie, quickly grasp the game and win in the end? Also great spectacle.
While the announcers claimed character assignments and match brackets were all random, behind the scenes it was clear there had been manipulation—specifically separating Minato, Kakashi, and Obito into different groups to ensure all three made it to the finals.
As it turned out, Uchiha Kei's arrangement was brilliant. Viewers were completely drawn in by the match setup, which ranged from kids like Kakashi and Obito, to youths like Minato, to middle-aged contestants in their 30s and 40s, and even someone in their 50s—elderly by shinobi standards.
In fact, the appearance of that one elder shocked many veterans like Hiruzen Sarutobi, making them sit up and exclaim in unison:
"Akimichi Torifu!"
"Torifu-senpai!"
"Lord Torifu!"
"Elder Torifu!"
Chubby and smiling, Akimichi Torifu waved at the crowd, looking more like a kindly elder from the Akimichi clan than one of Tobirama Senju's disciples or a member of the Konoha F4.
As one of the few living disciples of the Second Hokage, Torifu had never cared for politics. Back in the day, he supported Hiruzen by managing Konoha's security and went to the front lines during the war rather than sitting in an office.
After aging, Torifu declined Hiruzen's offer to join the upper ranks and chose peaceful retirement instead, spending his days hidden away in the Akimichi compound.
So seeing this legendary figure appear again, and in such a bold, modern context—participating in a game showcase—was truly unexpected.
Beside Uchiha Kei, Uzumaki Kikyo looked at him in surprise. "Kei-nii, how did you get Lord Torifu to come? Why would he agree to join this event?"
Kei smiled. "Lord Torifu has long been a loyal fan of my genjutsu games. He's played every single one. He just never left the Akimichi estate, so nobody knew. When he found out we needed volunteers for the showcase, he came and signed up himself. Of course we couldn't turn him down."
Kikyo was momentarily speechless—then her expression brightened into one of admiration, pride, and joy.
After all, even a legendary elder of Konoha had willingly become a fan of Kei's genjutsu games and came to support him. Didn't that prove how incredible Kei was?
What Kikyo didn't know was that Torifu's participation was also a subtle message: the last of the elder generation who hadn't taken a side—Akimichi Torifu—was now publicly backing the Uchiha, the Konoha Gaming Guild, and the genjutsu game initiative.
This mattered. It meant Konoha was finally, truly unified.
Hiruzen smiled. Koharu and Homura also relaxed. Those who understood the implications began smiling as well.
Only one person wasn't smiling—Shimura Danzō. Maybe the old bastard just didn't like smiling.
Regardless, hidden in the shadows watching it all, Danzō's face was darker than a burnt pot. Ever since genjutsu games had emerged, his mood had been pitch black. But Torifu's "betrayal" was the final nail—it made him truly feel that all of Konoha had turned against him.
In that moment, Danzō wavered. He hesitated. For the first time, he wondered—had he been wrong?
Facing complete and utter isolation—even he couldn't help but falter.
But soon, the stubborn old man collected himself, becoming more resolute than ever.
"Yes. They've all been deceived by the innately evil Uchiha. They've fallen for the illusion of Konoha's current prosperity and forgotten the true shinobi code passed down since the Warring States Era!"
"They've forgotten the hardships of the past—and the First Hokage's legacy! They're traitors! They've betrayed the First Hokage's ideals!"
"Yes. They're all wrong! Only I am right!"
"Everything I've done—was for Konoha! I'm the only one who truly has the village's best interests at heart!"
As he muttered to himself, Danzō's eyes grew brighter, his expression increasingly fanatical, overflowing with passion and conviction.
At this point, Danzō had fully entered the mindset of: "If my enemies oppose me, I must be right. If they don't oppose me, I'm still right. If friends support me, I'm right. If they don't, they're no longer friends—they're enemies. And if my enemies oppose me, I'm definitely right."
In short, a perfect feedback loop of "It's not me, it's the world that's wrong."
Under this psychological delusion, Danzō's cold expression clashed with the warm, energetic mood of the event. His icy eyes locked onto Obito on stage as he began vividly imagining scenes of capturing and torturing him to uncover evidence of the Uchiha's sinister plans using genjutsu games.
Meanwhile, the match groupings and character assignments were complete.
Kakashi, Obito, and Minato all "coincidentally" received characters that suited them.
Kakashi played a mini version of White Fang. Obito didn't get a mini Yellow Flash, but instead a Hidden Mist shinobi whose combat style matched Obito's. Minato, naturally, received a mini version of himself—the golden-haired "Everyone."
The matches were conducted in groups. Kakashi went first, along with two other players, on a forest battlefield filled with uneven terrain, a river, and dense canopy, which significantly reduced visibility.
Upon entering the game, the first thing new players did was get used to their new bodies and figure out their characters' abilities—or risk instant death.
Spectators watched as players stayed in place, experimenting with different moves, adjusting to their avatars' new forms.
The unfamiliar sensations were thrilling. Their characters' raw power amazed them.
Unlike Free Mode, these characters were calibrated to elite jōnin level. Among the twelve players, only Minato and Torifu had that kind of power. The rest ranged from special jōnin to chūnin, genin, or even civilians.
One player, playing a civilian, was overwhelmed by their avatar's power. They ran, jumped, and cheered—savoring the feeling of absolute strength.
Then came Kakashi—the only one who knew how to play.
What followed was the classic "vanishing health bar" technique.
Kakashi silently closed in on the civilian, who was busy tree-walking and marveling at their new powers, and performed a merciless blade assault.
The civilian, panicking under sudden attack, tried to flee—but Kakashi caught them. Playing as mini White Fang "Sakun," Kakashi executed a skill combo followed by a finishing move that swiftly emptied the player's health bar.
To the audience, it looked like a player enjoying godhood was suddenly ambushed by a ruthless white-haired devil, who sliced them down with dazzling, brutal precision.
His technique was sharp and beautiful, turning killing into an art.
Some even marveled at the civilian's durability—they withstood what looked like hundreds of attacks. In truth, many of the skills were so fast that one swing appeared as a flurry of slashes.
Experienced shinobi, however, saw past the flair—they saw pure killing intent.
Those who had fought alongside or witnessed the real White Fang, Sakumo Hatake, were shaken. They recognized his style in Kakashi's.
Of course, Sakumo's style was more direct—a true assassination technique—and his blade was a short sword, not a katana. Still, the silver hair and fierce technique evoked memories of the legendary White Fang.
Many Konoha elders sighed with nostalgia—and smiled with relief. Kakashi had the talent to inherit Sakumo's mantle. Watching him use a White Fang-style character to dominate only strengthened that belief.
It felt like the second coming of the White Fang.
Cheers, gasps, and praise erupted throughout the venue.
Meanwhile, Kakashi's fight had made enough noise to alert the third player. As the game notified that one contestant had been eliminated, the remaining one snapped to attention, preparing for a showdown.
Kakashi didn't wait—he launched a new assault immediately. The young genius knew: never give the enemy time to adjust. Letting them adapt would only make things harder.
Seeing this, knowledgeable spectators nodded approvingly. A shinobi should strike when the enemy is at their weakest. Fairness had no place in life-or-death combat.
Even if this wasn't real combat, the mindset had to be the same.
Kakashi delivered. He took out the second opponent and easily advanced to the next round.
When the three players exited the game, the civilian wore a dazed look. The second player was clearly frustrated, upset that they hadn't had time to learn their character before getting wrecked.
But it didn't matter—this was just a performance match. Winning wasn't the point. And they weren't even the main characters. No harm done.
The hosts came on stage to heat up the crowd. With smiles and enthusiasm, they praised Kakashi's victory, thanked the losers, and announced that all players would receive a free copy of "Ultimate Storm" and other commemorative prizes.
That cheered them right up.
Next, Obito and his two opponents entered the field.
Fueled by Kakashi's performance, Obito was determined not to lose. He would prove that *he* was stronger.
He selected a Hidden Mist ninja armed with a chain covered in blades—an extremely rare and difficult weapon to use.
Luckily, Obito had used the character in prior testing and found it very intuitive. Now, his control was even sharper.
Too bad the style points didn't work out.
Obito had improved—but his raw skill and combat technique still lagged behind Kakashi's. He started strong but struggled against the final opponent, a chūnin who had also adapted to their avatar.
Obito did win in the end—but barely. His health bar was nearly in the red.
Still, he was happy—especially when Rin Nohara showered him with praise.
To someone with a crush, their goddess's encouragement is all that matters.
Even if he lost in style to his rival… Rin's smile made it all worth it.