Malphegor
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HSU: Ch. 89
🕑 Added 2024-12-21 16:27:42 +0000 UTCToday was New Year's Day, the first day of the year, and the weather was beautiful.
On such a great day, Fugaku stayed home preparing his draft speech, his brush hovering over the paper.
To let their clan leader work in peace, the Uchiha gathered to create a quiet environment, ensuring no one would disturb him and affect his performance.
As a result, the area surrounding his residence was packed with clan members, their watchful eyes scanning for any potential disturbance.
Fugaku was deeply touched by their heartfelt dedication. So, he locked himself in his study and didn't come out.
Even when Mikoto wanted to bring him tea, she had to knock first. And it would still take a while for him to open the door.
When she knocked again, seeing her husband looking so immersed, she couldn't hold back. Men and their pride—some things never change.
"You can actually leave the door open. Masashi won't show up at a time like this."
"This has nothing to do with Masashi. I'm thinking better this way," Fugaku stubbornly defended himself, blocking her view of the desk with his body so she couldn't see what was going on. "By the way, where is Masashi?"
"He went out on some errands."
"Ridiculous! At such an important time, how could he go out alone for fun?" Fugaku pretended to be stern, relief flickering briefly across his features. "When he returns to the village, let me know immediately. I'll give him a proper scolding."
"Got it," Mikoto rolled her eyes at her husband. As if anyone believes that act anymore. All this just because your handwriting isn't good, and you're too proud to admit it.
"Oh, right." she suddenly remembered something and almost forgot.
She pulled out an envelope.
"Here, Masashi asked me to give this to you before he left."
"In such a rush… He's still too immature and needs more composure." Fugaku accepted the envelope with satisfaction, in a much better mood.
This settled it—Masashi wasn't in the village, so he could leave the door open.
The closed room did get a bit stuffy.
"You'd better air this place out; every time I knock, the smell bothers my nose." Mikoto complained before turning to leave.
Watching his wife's figure in her yukata, Fugaku blushed. Perhaps some traditions are worth maintaining.
Tonight, he might just have to "celebrate" the New Year properly.
His eldest son's recent performance had been very pleasing, and he decided to reward him by letting him spend the evening at Shisui's place and not come home.
A leader had to plan ahead, after all.
As the family's situation improved, his quality of life and interests also became more refined.
With plans for the evening set, he returned to his study, tidied up the drafts on his desk, stored them in his collection box, wiped the desk clean, and opened the envelope to read the letter.
The paper was crisp.
As he read, his expression grew serious, the blush fading from his cheeks.
"So, it's come to this…" After finishing the letter, he placed it on the desk and began drafting his speech again. Some matters can't wait, even for New Year's.
---
Meanwhile, Masashi had already entered a village in the Land of Fire.
This village, located in the heart of the Land of Fire, was under the direct control of the daimyō's government and was one of the highest-tier villages in the region.
The Land of Fire's temperate monsoon climate, with its distinct seasons and lush vegetation, created ideal conditions for agriculture. As a result, its villages had the largest populations and urban density in the world.
During the early Warring States Period, villages were small and primarily consisted of castles where nobles resided. Over time, as territories expanded and populations grew, villages flourished.
By the late Warring States Period, urban development had progressed from "a village of no more than 300 feet and 3,000 households" to "a village of a thousand feet with tens of thousands of households."
The population of the largest village in this region set a record for urban population in the world. This prosperity fueled the growth of handicrafts and commerce, thanks to its central location and ability to facilitate trade among nations.
The village Masashi entered was once the capital of a nation during the Warring States Period. At that time, it had been conquered by the Uchiha clan.
Currently, the Land of Fire boasted around a thousand villages with administrative offices. Even the smallest of these had populations of several thousand households. Among them, 150 villages had populations exceeding 10,000, and this village was one of the largest, with a population of 100,000 households. Assuming five people per household, the total population would be around 500,000.
The headquarters of the Banking and Trade Association was located here.
The representative of the Uchiha clan in this association was Masashi, though he rarely visited, leaving the work to a proxy.
The proxy was also a member of the Uchiha clan but wasn't a ninja.
The Uchiha clan had many such members; for example, Masashi's uncle and his spouse weren't ninjas and were deeply interested in business.
As soon as he entered the village, the association members were informed. By the time he reached the association's entrance, a group was already waiting to greet him.
"Ah, Masashi-sama, we've been looking forward to your arrival!"
A rotund man enthusiastically stepped forward, grasping Masashi's hand with teary eyes. The others behind him shifted, each trying to position themselves for the best view.
What? Masashi was younger than him? Irrelevant! To him, Masashi was practically his father!
After working with Masashi, he realized his previous business ventures were trash. Every small piece of advice had turned to gold in his hands.
Unfortunately, Masashi refused to adopt him as a godson, leaving the man heartbroken. All he wanted was to stay close to Masashi and learn from him.
"You're too kind, Konoe," Masashi said with a smile. "New Year, new beginnings—I'm sure this year will bring you great prosperity and no worries."
"All thanks to you," Konoe beamed, his eyes nearly squeezed shut by his chubby cheeks. "It's all because of your guidance. Please, continue to teach us!"
"Oh, you're making me blush," Masashi said, shaking his head modestly. His eyes caught the subtle movements of other representatives edging closer. "Any success is thanks to your own skills. I just offered a few suggestions—it's your hard work that made it all possible."
Seeing Konoe monopolize the spotlight with his considerable bulk, the other bank representatives grew impatient and began crowding in, showering Masashi with compliments.
"Masashi-sama, your investment strategy last quarter was brilliant!"
"Indeed! The returns exceeded all expectations!"
Masashi's proxy stood alone on the sidelines, watching the crowd swarm Masashi and sighing in admiration.
In terms of popularity, even an elder of the Uchiha clan couldn't outshine Masashi here.
But staying around forever wasn't practical. The proxy clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
"Masashi-sama has traveled a long way and must be tired. Let's not block the entrance—the banquet upstairs is ready, so let's continue there!"
"Right, right! Konoe, you hog, look at what you've done!"
"Exactly, you talk too much."
Seizing the opportunity, the group pushed Konoe aside and ushered Masashi upstairs for the feast. As they moved, Masashi smiled.
---
While the seriousness of Fugaku's writings was debatable, Tazuna's own approach to crafting documents was thoroughly earnest.
This level of earnestness made his clansmen worry whether he might keel over before the election results were even announced. The veins on his temples had been throbbing visibly as he wrote.
On this particular day, the Sarutobi jonin gathered for a clan meeting. The old hall, with its wood-paneled walls adorned with past clan leaders' portraits, seemed to weigh down on them with the burden of history.
Back in the day, when Hiruzen was the head of the clan, the Sarutobi jonin also assembled like this, heeding the call of this shinobi leader to contribute to both the clan and the village. The same hall had witnessed countless decisions that shaped their future.
Hiruzen's Will of Fire had inspired many, and the Sarutobi clan was no stranger to making sacrifices for the village.
Of course, as the clan of the Hokage, the Sarutobi had inevitably developed some less-than-savory habits, but at least the jonin as a group were self-aware.
If they were a bit overconfident during Minato's early tenure, they had since come back down to earth.
Now that Hiruzen was retired and no longer involved in clan affairs unless the survival of the clan was at stake, this meeting was chaired by a Sarutobi elder, with the jonin in attendance.
Haru cleared his throat. "We gather today as we have for generations. Before us lies a matter of great importance." He lifted the document from the table, adjusting his glasses. "Our clan head has prepared a speech for the upcoming council meeting. Let us review it together."
He passed the document to Sato on his right. The jonin's eyes widened as he scanned the first paragraph. His hands trembled slightly as he handed it to Kenji beside him.
One by one, the paper made its rounds. Each face grew paler than the last. Some shook their heads in disbelief, others let out gasps. When Mako, a seasoned jonin, received it, his pipe nearly fell from his slack jaw.
By the time the draft completed its circle back to Haru, the room had fallen into silence. Without exception, everyone had been struck speechless by its contents.
They began to genuinely fear for his health.
"Is this... a declaration of war?" someone whispered, his face pale.
"More like a suicide note," Mako muttered, shaking his head.
"Tazuna, I think you should reconsider your theme," Haru said solemnly. "You'll get yourself killed."
"This matter must be addressed." Tazuna clearly would not allow his masterpiece to be doubted. "Where in my speech is there an issue?"
"Everywhere," Haru replied bluntly. Seeing how stubborn the clan leader was, the elder grew frustrated. "The village has never forced clans to surrender their unique techniques. How could you come up with such a terrible idea?"
"Exactly, Tazuna! If we force others today, won't they force us tomorrow?" another elder chimed in. "You spent several days writing this? Do you not care about becoming Hokage Advisor? Do you not care whether the Sarutobi can still stand in the village?"
Tazuna scanned the room. Though the elders were visibly displeased, the rest of the clan members, while silent, were clearly not on board either.
He felt disheartened.
"Times change, but our principles remain," an elder offered quietly.
"Principles won't save us from irrelevance," Tazuna shot back.
The elders were just spouting nonsense. Of course, he knew his draft would offend people. But why would a man in his fifties, pushing sixty, go out of his way to make enemies?
Did these people even understand the clan's situation? Did they truly believe the Third Hokage could live forever?
Tazuna was no fool.
He had always been unapologetically double-faced, but today he realized that perhaps his long-standing duplicity had led people to truly see him as such.
"We no longer have anyone in our clan comparable to Sasuke-sama or Hiruzen-sama. You all understand what that means, don't you?"
The sudden seriousness in his tone caught the Sarutobi clan members off guard.
The elders, however, began to mull over his words. He's not wrong, Elder Haru thought, but his method...
After a moment's thought, they realized Tazuna's intention.
"Tazuna, you're too aggressive," the first elder's tone softened. "This approach carries too much risk."
"We're beyond concerns of risk now. Shikaku's promotion speaks volumes." Tazuna's voice grew sharper as he addressed his clan. His hand swept across the room, gesturing at the artifacts of their past glory. "If we had even a bit more fight in us, the position of the jonin commander wouldn't have fallen to him…"
"The Four Clans acting as one—Shikaku is a good choice."
"There's no such thing as the Four Clans, Haru." Tazuna sighed. "If we rely solely on the legacy of our ancestors, the fate of the Shimura clan today will be ours tomorrow."
The room fell silent.
Wasn't the Shimura clan strong in its prime? Very strong!
Wasn't the Sarutobi clan strong in its prime? Of course, but no stronger than the Shimura clan.
Back then, with Sasuke leading the clan, even the likes of Hashirama and Madara respected him. Excluding those two monsters, Sasuke was among the strongest shinobi of his era.
After joining Konoha, both the Sarutobi and Shimura clans experienced a golden age. The Sarutobi produced Hiruzen, and the Shimura clan produced Danzō.
Especially Hiruzen—he was the brightest star of his generation, eclipsing even the Senju and Uchiha of his time.
Decades later, the Sarutobi lacked successors, and the Shimura clan had been reduced to little more than a name.
The thought of the Sarutobi clan ending up like the Shimura clan sent chills down everyone's spines.
"Tazuna…" One elder tried to dissuade him again.
"Don't try to stop me." Tazuna waved them off, fixing his gaze on the clan. We're already on the path to irrelevance.
"In the first round, you'll all vote for Shikaku. No discussion. We must show solidarity immediately!"
"Tazuna-sama!" The group was stunned. "Please calm down!"
That's when everyone realized—this clan head was truly reckless!
"Calm? I'm already calm!" Tazuna scowled, his face reddening. "You're calm too, but are the others calm?"
Rubbing his temples, he finally blurted out the thought weighing on his mind.
"The night of the Nine-Tails attack—didn't some fool climb the Hokage Rock and order Masashi to step down?"
The group exchanged awkward glances. The memory of that night still brought shame to many present.
Indeed, such a person existed, but wasn't that just youthful ignorance?
"Young people…" A jonin laughed nervously, avoiding Tazuna's piercing gaze. "They grow out of it with time."
"I'm afraid he'll get killed before he matures." Tazuna sneered. "At the time, the Fourth Hokage had already been in office for a while. Yet there's still this nonsense?"
"But isn't it unnecessary for you to personally provoke Masashi?" the jonin pleaded. "The younger generation is immature, but we can educate them."
"It's too late…" Tazuna shook his head. "Since that night, the Uchiha have been unstoppable. If we continue stalling, it's only a matter of time before they return to the Hokage Office. Can't you see the Fourth Hokage's dissatisfaction with the clan?"
"But the Fourth is Jiraiya-sama's disciple."
"Is this a new joke? What does the Fourth being Jiraiya-sama's disciple have to do with the Sarutobi?" Tazuna shot the jonin a withering look. "Apparently, you're not calm—you're brainless."
Tazuna's verbal jabs were infamous—not vulgar, but devastatingly cutting. Just as he was about to lash out, an elder quickly intervened.
"Tazuna, your actions might backfire."
"If they do, it means the clan is beyond saving." Tazuna reclaimed his speech draft from the elder. "If that's the case, I might as well die now."
He felt a surge of emotions, pouring out like a fountain—his indignation demanded to be expressed.
How dare they question what needs to be done? Can't they see we're running out of time?
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