"Unbelievable? What, did he drag you there to file a complaint in person or something?"
Yutai scratched the back of his head in confusion. His expression then shifted subtly, brows furrowing. No one in his family currently worked in the police department, so why would villagers still be bothering him?
Yan let out a tired sigh and waved off the assumption. "No, not a complaint. On the contrary... the guy was way too enthusiastic. It felt weird, like I had fallen into a genjutsu."
Given Uchiha's long-standing status as a marginalized clan, it wasn't an unreasonable suspicion. If someone had told them a few months ago that villagers would be eager to see Uchiha patrolling the streets again, they would've laughed them out of the room.
But things had changed.
Even though Yan could feel the sincerity in the merchant's attitude, a part of him remained on guard. That deeply rooted caution—the instinct born of years of being mistreated—couldn't be erased so easily.
There was even a moment, fleeting but real, where he considered bringing it up with the clan elders—suggesting they take back their posts at the police department.
But logic returned swiftly. Uchiha had lost absolutely nothing by giving up control of the police force. In fact, they were thriving more than ever.
During this period, Andrew hadn't been slacking off. Every evening, he would visit different households and hold small gatherings—ideological and political education, he called it. Others might've called it rebuilding pride.
He didn't just speak about history or honor—he laid bare the reasons why Uchiha had been oppressed by Konoha's leadership. He made it clear: this wasn't about weakness. It was about being feared.
So even though the villagers now wanted Uchiha back in the police department, Andrew had firmly rejected the idea. And most of the tribe agreed.
"We've already seen what happens when we serve the village. We get thrown under the bus the moment something goes wrong."
Even the few naïve enough to consider returning were rejected outright. Andrew then made an example of them—he didn't punish them, but sent them on missions through the Uchiha's private security force. If they had too much time on their hands, then they could work.
"Don't get tempted just because the villagers smiled at you once. We're not that soft."
In the meantime, Andrew's system rewards had been... underwhelming.
"Random draw again today... Let me guess, another sliver of pupil power or a drop of Chakra."
Since the Uchiha now had a massive presence across various industries, Andrew's feedback points came in steadily—albeit in modest amounts. He never missed his daily spin in the system's store, but the results were disappointing.
Yes, pupil power and Chakra were useful—but the gains were minuscule. It wasn't enough to reach a true breakthrough.
Still, Andrew wasn't discouraged. He tucked away his ideological education notes and prepared to make his daily token appearance at the police department.
He didn't care much about the place anymore, but as the nominal captain, he had to at least pretend to be engaged.
As soon as he stepped beyond the Uchiha district, Andrew's eyes narrowed.
He was being watched.
It wasn't subtle either—sloppy surveillance, which meant it wasn't Anbu. Probably Root. And if that was the case, then someone was getting bold again.
"Danzo's dead, but his dogs still bite, huh?" Andrew muttered under his breath, his tone ice-cold.
He paused, then smirked. If they wanted to watch him, they should've tried to be more discreet.
Danzo may have been out of the picture, but Root still lurked in Konoha's shadows—illegal, unregistered, and yet tolerated by the village for years thanks to Danzo's "arrangement" with the Hokage.
Unlike Anbu, who served under the direct authority of the Hokage and were on official record, Root was a ghost unit. Its existence was technically denied, even though everyone knew it was there.
And that made what Andrew was about to do even easier to justify.
He turned around slowly. His Mangekyō Sharingan flared to life, those familiar swirling patterns dancing across his irises.
The moment he made eye contact, the three Root agents hidden in the shadows were caught in a powerful illusion. Their defenses were no match for Mangekyō genjutsu—not when they'd been staring right at him.
Their eyes glazed over instantly.
Andrew didn't hesitate.
With a flick of his wrist, he launched three kunai, each imbued with chakra-enhanced precision. The weapons struck them dead center in the forehead—clean, silent, and final.
These weren't just any spies.
Root was known for brainwashing its agents. Once inducted, they became loyal only to Danzo, discarding their identities and registering no official family ties or civilian names.
And now that Danzo was gone, they were no better than rogue assets. If Andrew killed them, who could even prove they existed?
No names. No records. No justice.
If Danzo tried to make a fuss, Andrew would simply say:
"They were foreign spies. Prove otherwise."
Simple. Clean. Effective.
A few rooftops away, a lone Anbu agent watched in horror.
He'd seen everything. From Andrew's sudden activation of Mangekyō to the clean execution of all three Root agents.
And he knew—Andrew could do the same to him without breaking a sweat.
He swallowed hard, sweat running down his back. As he turned to prepare his report for the Hokage, he was suddenly met with a pair of crimson eyes watching him from across the village.
The gaze pierced his soul.
Andrew hadn't said a word—but his eyes screamed: "I see you."
Andrew raised his voice slightly, making sure the Anbu could hear.
"Three spies were found lurking near the Uchiha compound. They've been handled. If the village has a cleanup crew, now's the time to send them."
His voice was calm, even polite, but there was a blade hidden behind every word.
He never looked away.
The Anbu officer's legs trembled as he prepared to vanish. He knew what Andrew was doing—it wasn't just a report.
It was a warning.
"Keep watching me, and I'll keep cleaning house."
Back in the Hokage's office, Sarutobi Hiruzen would later receive the report with a clenched jaw.
Danzo's corpse was barely cold, and already Andrew had drawn first blood in this unspoken game of shadows.
And though it was only three Root agents, Hiruzen understood the message clearly:
"We don't care about your games anymore. Push us, and we'll push back harder."
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