Chapter 20: Sharingan
*Uchiha Clan Rare Bloodline Card (Complete)!*
I stared at the notification, watching as the three fragments had automatically synthesized into something that might fundamentally change my existence. For a moment, I pushed aside the lingering heaviness from Jinghu's story and focused on the scarlet-eyed card now sitting in my inventory.
The thing was almost hypnotic—a crimson eye with a single black tomoe that seemed to pulse with its own inner light, like it might leap right off the card and into reality.
"Please don't be like the Dead Bone Pulse," I muttered, remembering the absolute hell I'd endured when that bloodline limit activated.
The memory alone made me shudder. Some trauma just sticks with you, apparently.
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and slapped the card against my chest. Might as well get this over with.
The card dissolved into streams of light that burrowed into my body like living things, spreading through my system in thin, searching tendrils.
I waited, muscles tensed for agony.
"...That's it?"
Nothing. No screaming pain, no feeling like my bones were trying to claw their way out of my skin. Just... nothing.
Why is this so different? The Dead Bone Pulse felt like being tortured by a sadist, but the Sharingan is just—
My temple twitched.
"Ah. There it is."
The pain hit like a freight train made of hammers. My brain felt like it was being used as percussion practice by an entire drum corps, each beat sending lightning through my skull.
Chakra began moving without my permission, flowing in patterns I'd never used before, rushing toward my eyes like a river finding the sea. I could feel my vision changing, blood vessels swelling and shifting, warm liquid tracking down my cheeks.
My reflection in the morgue's metal surfaces showed the transformation: pupils contracting to pinpoints, irises flooding with crimson, that distinctive black tomoe spinning into existence.
Single Tomoe Sharingan. Welcome to the club, I guess.
The pain faded as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving me gasping and wiping blood from my face.
"Sneaky bastard," I panted. "Still going for the sneak attack approach."
At least this was manageable compared to the Dead Bone Pulse. That had felt like dying slowly. This was just... really enthusiastic acupuncture.
I touched my eyes experimentally, immediately noticing the difference. Everything was sharp now—hyper-detailed in a way that was almost overwhelming. On the window, I could see a tiny insect crawling across the glass. In the corner, individual dust particles were visible, sitting there like tiny accusations.
"Guy didn't clean thoroughly enough."
I cut off the chakra flow, watching my vision return to normal. Single tomoe was basic-level Sharingan—good for observation and motion tracking, but the fancy stuff like copying jutsu and powerful genjutsu required multiple tomoe. Still, for someone whose biggest concern was morgue cleanliness, it was perfectly adequate.
"This damn OCD of mine."
The system notification popped up fashionably late, as usual:
[Successfully used Uchiha Clan Rare Bloodline Card (complete), physical transformation complete, Chakra +2!]
"Why do I feel so... calm about this? I should probably be more excited about getting the most famous bloodline in the ninja world. Maybe I really am getting too comfortable with this life."
I shrugged and used the attribute card from earlier.
[Successfully used single attribute random +2 enhancement card!]
[Seal +2!]
[Successfully used Fire Style - Great Fireball Jutsu ninjutsu card!]
[Learned Ninjutsu: Fire Style - Great Fireball Technique]
Time to check my progress.
[Character: Maruyama Qifeng]
Age: 13
[Attributes: Fire, Earth]
[Strength: Chunin]
[Bloodline Limits: Dead Bone Pulse (Intermediate), Sharingan (Single Tomoe)]
[Taijustu: 38]
[Chakra: 27]
[Endurance: 24]
[Genjustu: 19]
[Control: 27]
[Fuinjustu: 24]
Looking at those numbers felt satisfying in a way that probably wasn't entirely healthy. I'd come a long way from the barely-graduated morgue worker I'd started as.
Walking outside, I lit a cigarette with a simple fire technique—one of the perks of having flame-based jutsu. The cherry glowed red in the darkness, smoke curling up into the night air.
Comfortable.
After finishing my smoke, I crushed the butt and made a mental note. "I need Guy to be more thorough tomorrow."
---
The next morning brought another training session with my unwitting janitor.
"Guy, you need to be more careful. Yesterday I found crumbs you missed."
"Yes! Senior Qifeng, I'll definitely be more attentive and meticulous!"
The Delicate Might Guy project continues apace.
I waved him off and headed toward the village center. Guy was reliable—enthusiastic to a fault, but reliable.
The atmosphere in Konoha had grown noticeably heavier lately. Even without an official war declaration, you could feel the tension like humidity before a storm. The streets held fewer smiles, less laughter. Ordinary civilians might not understand the political situation, but traveling merchants and wanderers brought whispers of trouble from across the ninja world.
It was the kind of oppressive quiet that made everyone walk a little faster and look over their shoulders a little more often.
I made my way to an area I'd never had reason to visit before: a section of the village surrounded by distinctive walls and marked by a prominent torii gate. The kanji for "Uchiha" stood proudly above the entrance, flanked by the clan's flame fan symbols.
The Uchiha compound. Heart of the most powerful clan in Konoha.
The irony wasn't lost on me. This proud, powerful family occupied the most central and prosperous district in the village, yet they were already walking a path toward their own destruction. Most of them didn't even know how precarious their position had become, how much distrust and resentment they'd earned from the village leadership.
They just maintained their pride, their traditions, their absolute certainty in their own superiority.
A village within a village. A nation within a nation.
After a brief questioning by the guards—having morgue credentials apparently opened doors—I found myself inside the compound proper.
The architecture was classical and elegant, flame fan emblems decorating every surface. The internal commercial district was as prosperous as anything in the main village, maybe more so. Everything spoke of wealth, power, and unshakeable confidence in their place in the world.
Too bad it's all built on a foundation of political quicksand.
But that wasn't my problem. I was just a guy with newly acquired Sharingan looking to return a memento to a grieving grandfather.
Walking down the clan streets drew attention—outsiders were clearly uncommon here. I was getting looks ranging from curious to mildly suspicious, though nothing hostile. Yet.
"Senior Qifeng!!"
A familiar voice made me turn. A figure came barreling toward me at full speed, stumbling slightly and nearly face-planting in his enthusiasm.
Uchiha Obito. Of course.
"It really is you! Senior Qifeng, I thought I was seeing things!" Obito looked like he'd just spotted his favorite celebrity at the grocery store.
"School's out early today?" I asked, genuinely surprised to see him here in the afternoon.
"Hehe." He rubbed his nose with that characteristic nervous gesture. "Today was the final exam, so we got to go home after finishing."
Final exams. The war really is getting close.
"What did you test on?"
"Clone Technique."
"How'd you do?"
Obito's enthusiasm deflated like a punctured balloon. He scratched the back of his head, laughing awkwardly. "Haha, well, of course it went great! I'm a genius of the Uchiha clan, and we Uchiha are all geniuses!"
Right. And I'm the Hokage.
From what I'd observed, Guy could probably tie Obito in knots without breaking a sweat. The kid had heart, but talent? That was still very much a work in progress.
I kept my amusement to myself as Obito turned slightly away, clearly uncomfortable with his own unconvincing bravado.
"So, Senior Qifeng, why are you here suddenly? Is there anything I can help you with?"
"I'm looking for Uchiha Jinghu's grandfather."
"Grandpa Fengjing?" Obito perked up immediately. "I know him! He lives right next to my house."
Perfect. Even in death, you're still looking out for me, aren't you Jinghu.
"Could you take me to him?"
"Of course! Come on!" Obito bounced ahead, all awkwardness forgotten in his eagerness to help.
As we walked deeper into the compound, I fingered the worn kunai in my tool pouch. Some conversations were going to be harder than others, but this was one that needed to happen.
The dead deserved to have their stories reach the people who mattered most.
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