CHAPTER 38

The Uchiha clan now had two elders, Uchiha Yasunari and Uchiha Narizawa, both Sanmagatama Sharingan elite jōnin in their early fifties—veterans whose strength and insight were highly respected within the clan.

Fortunately, nothing had happened to the two elders. They simply heard that Gen Uchiha had been accepted as a disciple by Orochimaru and Minato Namikaze, two of Konoha's most renowned shinobi, and called him over to offer their encouragement.

Ten minutes later, Gen and his companion took their leave and went off to have dinner.

Soldier pills were considered emergency rations. Typically, shinobi ate proper meals—rice balls being the staple, supplemented with vegetables and meat for balanced nutrition.

However, the taste was plain and forgettable. After all, this was the Third Shinobi World War; Konoha wasn't some lavish stronghold, certainly not a luxury haven like Italy during World War II.

After their meal, they went their separate ways. Gen Uchiha cleaned up and returned to his tent to rest.

A day of high-speed travel was utterly exhausting.

Interestingly, their tents weren't within the Uchiha clan's designated area but instead positioned near those of Orochimaru and Minato—an acknowledgment of their status as disciples.

After a night's rest, the Konoha shinobi, though physically drained, were mentally prepared and energized for the coming battles.

Following breakfast, Uchiha Gen received a summons and headed to Orochimaru's tent.

As deputy commander, Orochimaru's tent was second only to Tsunade's in size. Though not luxurious—it was a battlefield, after all—it was spacious and imposing compared to standard tents.

"Orochimaru-sensei, are you looking for me?"

Gen stepped inside, bowing respectfully.

"Hmm, sit down."

Orochimaru didn't even glance up from his breakfast, merely gesturing lazily with a pale hand, his voice low and hoarse.

Gen sat before his teacher.

"Would you like something to eat?"

"I've already eaten."

"Good. I called you here because it's time for you to lead a team. You're a jōnin now—you should've led a squad long ago."

"Can I refuse?" Gen asked bluntly, showing no hesitation in speaking candidly with Orochimaru.

"Reason?"

"Being alone offers more flexibility. Teammates can hold you back."

"You do realize, sensei, that it's not the enemy like a god you should fear—it's teammates who act like fools."

In truth, Gen Uchiha had his own motives—harvesting souls would be easier alone.

"Hoho... I wasn't aware of that."

"There's something off about this kid's thinking," Orochimaru mused. "You'd better not share that opinion with others."

"I understand. I won't speak recklessly around anyone else."

"Good. But know this—it's not about teammates anymore. They're your subordinates now."

"So that's the difference... quite a significant one," Gen said, feigning sudden realization.

Orochimaru didn't take offense at the sarcasm. In fact, his broad-mindedness was one of his strengths. As long as you were talented—or useful—he tolerated much.

"If I were commander, I'd meet your expectations. But as deputy? That won't fly. Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Minato—they all prioritize teamwork. You're the odd one out."

"Alright, sensei, you've convinced me."

"Still," Orochimaru continued, finishing his meal and flicking his wrist to snatch a scroll from the table, "I do have authority. Here."

He tossed the scroll to Gen.

"This is the list of Chūnin reinforcements for the front lines. Pick three. I'll handle the rest."

So, it's really that easy when you've got powerful backing, Gen thought. Minato would never exploit his authority like this—but Orochimaru? For a researcher, overreporting funds is practically standard.

"That's impressive, Orochimaru-sensei."

Orochimaru chuckled, deciphering Gen's playful flattery.

Gen unrolled the scroll, scanning the names quickly before selecting three subordinates. He marked them with a quick stroke of the pen and handed the list back.

"Three Chūnin skilled in ninjutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu. Balanced team, mixed genders, and sharp investigative abilities."

"Not bad. You're my disciple after all—I expect nothing less."

"Hoho… Getting relaxed, are we?"

"Can't help it with such a good teacher."

Orochimaru: "..."

This brat really knows how to flatter… but I don't hate it.

"Alright, you're dismissed. They'll report to you this afternoon."

"One more thing."

"Speak."

"Orochimaru-sensei, are we launching the attack today?"

"No. Kirigakure shifted their formation overnight. We need to scout before proceeding. If things go well, we'll strike tomorrow. If not, it might take a few more days."

"A swift victory boosts morale. A drawn-out stalemate will weaken our spirit."

Gen nodded—the frontline leaders clearly understood strategy well.

"This is classified. Say nothing."

"Don't worry, sensei. I'm a jōnin, not some reckless fool."

"If there's nothing else, I'll head out."

Orochimaru's lips twitched into a slight smirk. "Go on."

Gen bowed slightly and left the tent.

"Oh, how's your snake-style ninjutsu coming along?"

"I've mastered Hidden Shadow Snake Hands."

"Not bad for ten days. And the Darkness Technique?"

"I learned that a while ago."

With his mastery of genjutsu and advanced ninjutsu, Gen was well-equipped to counter Kirigakure's hidden mist tactics. A perfect chance to make his mark.

Orochimaru returned to his breakfast, indifferent to flavor—only the energy mattered.

Meanwhile, Gen went back to his tent to study chakra nature transformations and practice ninjutsu, giving Zhu Rong and Wu Sheng some time to breathe.

At 2 PM, after a light lunch, Gen was resting when—

"Captain, Hyūga Tokuma, Inuzuka Tsume, and Yūhi Kurenai are here to report!"

Indeed, the subordinates Gen had chosen were future Konoha jōnin, though at present, they were newly promoted Chūnin.

Kurenai, Gen, and Obito were all born in Konoha's 36th year—making them thirteen, just a year older than Kakashi.

Hearing the commotion outside, Zhu Rong and Wu Sheng swiftly returned to Gen's side, ready and alert.

Gen stretched, sat up, and called out, "I know. I'll be out soon."

It wasn't arrogance that kept him from inviting them in—there just wasn't enough space inside the tent.

Outside, the three figures stood at attention. Among them, Yūhi Kurenai stood out.

Female shinobi were rare, and beautiful ones even rarer.

With delicate, fair features and a determined expression, Kurenai wore her Konoha forehead protector with pride. Her thick black hair framed her striking crimson eyes. She wore a blue top and shorts, with black mesh covering her arms, collarbones, and legs—a look both practical and elegant.

Yet, she seemed distracted, her red eyes unfocused.

Didn't Father say I'd be working with him?

Why was I suddenly assigned to an old classmate instead?

So embarrassing...

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