"Well, well. Sarutobi Shin'nosuke, long time no see."
Ichiro definitely knew Shin'nosuke—they'd both attended the ninja academy, though Shin'nosuke was a year ahead of him.
Back then, they already had friction. Ichiro had even taught him a lesson once before.
Now, fate had brought Shin'nosuke back into Ichiro's hands.
Shin'nosuke glared at him with hatred. Their old grudge had now grown into something far worse.
"You dared to attack members of my Police Force? You've got some nerve. Beat him up first—we'll talk after."
"You wouldn't dare! If you touch me, my father won't let you off!"
Shin'nosuke once again invoked the name of the Third Hokage.
"You think that'll work on me?"
Ichiro gave a small gesture, and the two Uchiha guards didn't hesitate.
Crack! Wham!
A brutal beating ensued. Shin'nosuke's screams echoed through the room.
"Uchiha Ichiro! I swear I'll get you for this!"
"I love tough-talking types like you. Slap him."
Ichiro smirked. Since his mouth was so stubborn, a few backhands might fix that.
As for whether punishing Shin'nosuke would offend Hiruzen—ha. That bridge had already burned to ashes.
Ichiro and Hiruzen were never going to be allies.
After the beating, Ichiro picked up a red-hot branding iron and slowly walked toward Shin'nosuke.
"W-what are you doing…?"
Shin'nosuke's voice trembled.
Ssssssshh!
Ichiro didn't answer. The iron spoke for him, searing a glowing kanji for "罪" (Crime) into Shin'nosuke's chest.
The pain made him let out a guttural scream.
"Tsk tsk… branding your chest isn't very visible. What do you think—should I put one on your face instead?"
Ichiro waved the still-glowing brand in front of his face.
Shin'nosuke was so terrified, he actually wet himself—urine dripped visibly from his pants.
A mark on the chest could be hidden with clothes, but one on his face? He'd never show his face in public again.
"S-stop! Please! Don't!"
Seeing the brand get closer to his face, Shin'nosuke screamed in panic.
"Fifty million ryō. Pay up and you can leave. Deal?"
Ichiro's tone was gentle, like he was discussing dinner plans.
"Yes! Yes! I'll pay!"
There was no way he'd refuse—he was certain that if he did, the brand would go straight to his face.
"Tell someone to bring the money. If I don't see it by tonight, that iron's going to leave you a souvenir for life."
With that, Ichiro tossed the branding iron aside and walked out of the interrogation room.
Back in his office, Ichiro barely had a moment to rest before another visitor arrived—this time, it was someone from Danzo's Root.
"Uchiha Ichiro. Lord Danzo wishes to see you. Come with me."
Root operatives were even colder and more emotionless than the ANBU.
They were tools brainwashed and controlled by Danzo—true emotionless machines.
"Danzo wants to see me? Then tell him to crawl over here himself."
Flash—
In a blur of light, Ichiro's blade flashed—and the Root ninja's head dropped to the floor.
"Lord Ichiro."
Uchiha Goro entered quickly, saw the body, and dropped to one knee.
"My apologies, Lord Ichiro. I failed to keep the door secure and let him get in."
"I'll let it slide this time. But I don't want to see it happen again. Goro, I have high hopes for you—don't disappoint me."
"Yes, Lord Ichiro. I swear I won't fail you again."
Inside, Goro cursed the intruder to the grave. That idiot had nearly cost him his lord's trust.
"Clean this up. Say it was a spy who infiltrated the Police Force and was executed by me."
The crime was fabricated on the spot. But the dead don't talk.
"Understood."
Goro swiftly disposed of the body—efficient and tidy, as always. He really was worth cultivating.
As a jōnin nearing elite status, Goro had real potential.
To Ichiro, Danzo's Root ninja were nothing more than a footnote—rats in the shadows weren't even worth his attention.
"It's about time to go put on a show… and claim the title of Uchiha clan head."
In the past, Ichiro had no interest in becoming the clan leader. It was a thankless job, full of political headaches and little gain.
But now? Things had changed. The pressure from Konoha's higher-ups was meaningless to him—and he needed the Uchiha clan to help him gather more Evil Points.
As he headed back to the Uchiha district, Ichiro brought the entire Police Force with him.
They marched through the streets of Konoha, and everyone they passed quickly stepped aside.
The Uchiha had become infamous over the past few days.
Not famous—infamous.
Now, whenever villagers saw Uchiha clan members, they immediately got out of the way.
Walking behind Ichiro, the Uchiha held their heads high, proud of the fear they inspired.
"So arrogant…"
"You'd better shut up unless you want the Police Force to come 'invite' you for tea."
"Bro, if you've got a death wish, don't drag me down with you."
Whether civilian or shinobi, no one dared provoke the Uchiha.
Even the Hyuga and Sarutobi clans had been humbled—what chance did the average person have?
People only dared talk behind the Uchiha's backs—never to their faces.
With great swagger, Ichiro led his men back into the Uchiha district, which was still located near the heart of Konoha.
It wasn't until after the Nine-Tails incident that the Uchiha were exiled to the outskirts. For now, they remained one of the founding clans at the village's center.
Instead of going home, Ichiro led his men directly to Uchiha Fugaku's residence.
The curtain was about to rise on a very entertaining performance.