Chapter 166: Confrontation with Fugaku! You're Bringing Shame Upon the Investigation Corps! (7,000 Words)

“The Mangekyō Sharingan possesses a technique capable of inducing endless, unbearable agony—and the duration is extraordinarily long… Hōhō, how could he possibly know so much about it?”

In a secret human experimentation research base deep within the Land of Fire, Orochimaru sat casually on a chair, one leg crossed over the other, his mind swirling with dark contemplation.

Earlier, during an online meeting of the Akatsuki Organization, he had learned from a masked member about Uchiha Iizumi’s eye technique.

Orochimaru didn’t know the man’s true identity—only that he held a high rank within the organization, perhaps even on par with the woman known as Konan.

Even though Orochimaru himself was a member of Akatsuki, many of its other operatives still held secrets he couldn’t unravel.

“Hōhō… Either he or his pitcher plant partner must have clashed with Uchiha Iizumi, that so-called ‘Justice’ brat. Maybe Iizumi even used the Mangekyō on them before.”

“This meeting, however, was without the pitcher plant. That means the one who possesses the Mangekyō is likely the plant itself… and it’s currently enduring the full torment of the technique.”

Orochimaru quickly deduced key intelligence about the masked man and the plant. He also concluded one thing: the masked figure was probably young—and far less cunning than he seemed.

Had the man been truly calculating, with decades of experience, he wouldn’t have revealed so much to his advantage.

And yet, his voice was deliberately forced into a gruff, elderly tone.

That piqued Orochimaru’s curiosity.

What is he hiding?

Two people, both skulking in shadows—this organization was full of others like him.

“Too bad…”

“They all have such narrow minds.”

A mocking chuckle escaped Orochimaru’s lips—then abruptly froze.

A sudden, unnatural tremor surged beneath his feet.

His smirk vanished instantly.

Earthquake?

No… This wasn’t an earthquake.

It felt more like…

Before the thought finished forming, the base’s alarm blared to life—shrill, piercing, relentless—ripping through Orochimaru’s ears. Above him, red warning lights flashed violently.

“Hōhō…”

“Someone actually dared to invade.”

Orochimaru narrowed his cold, serpentine eyes. He didn’t rush to confront the intruder. After all, this research base was filled with his loyal subordinates—his tools, his expendable pawns.

Was he really expected to personally handle every stray dog that wandered in?

That would make his entire army pointless—like charity.

Slowly, Orochimaru walked into the base’s central monitoring room. He gazed up at a bank of crude, flickering monitors, their screens distorted by static and snow.

Then—his breath caught.

One of the monitors displayed a figure he had not expected.

His eyes widened.

At the same moment, the figure on screen seemed to sense the gaze.

From the blood-soaked corpse at his feet, the figure slowly drew out his ninja sword. Then, ever so slightly, he lifted his head—locking eyes with the camera.

Their gazes met across the screen.

“Uchiha Iizumi…”

Orochimaru’s finger twitched. He licked his dry lips.

He recognized the face.

The ultimate vessel.

One of his most coveted prizes.

…

“Intruder! You’ve exposed your weakness!”

A masked ninja—no forehead protector—grinned wickedly, his skin crawling with grotesque black cursed marks. His aura pulsed with the same evil resonance as Orochimaru’s.

In a flash, he appeared behind Uchiha Iizumi.

His arms were thicker than a normal man’s, his skin rough like stone.

With a roar, he leapt, fists clenched, driving them toward Iizumi’s skull.

The blow could shatter boulders.

Iizumi turned without expression. His left arm rose just in time—blocking the strike.

Boom!

A thunderous impact erupted. Dust spiraled beneath his feet, yet his arm remained untouched—no trace of lava-like elemental transformation.

Their eyes met.

Iizumi saw the shock on the man’s face.

Without hesitation, Iizumi thrust his sword backward.

The blade pierced the man’s chest with a sickening thud.

Instantly, several more cursed-marked ninja charged forward.

Through Iizumi’s Sharingan, every mobile enemy bore a crimson, glowing box and text above their heads—unmistakable proof.

In this entire secret research base, save for the lab rats trapped in cages, no one was innocent.

Everyone here was a Red Mark Criminal.

“Wood Release… Floral Tree Eternal Burial.”

With one hand, Iizumi formed a seal—then slammed it into the ground.

The earth erupted. Thick, gnarled tree trunks burst through the floor, twisting and weaving into a massive wooden wall that blocked the attackers.

Then, blossoms sprouted along the trunks—unfolding in less than a second.

A cloud of visible pollen exploded outward.

The first cursed ninja in line was drenched in it.

He halted mid-charge—then frowned, wondering why he felt… fine.

“Hah, just bluffing! This jutsu does nothing—”

He never finished.

His face twisted in agony. He clutched his chest, screaming.

Behind him, the other ninja watched in horror as something pierced through his body from within.

Pfft—Pfft—Pfft!

Sharp, thorn-like vines erupted from his lungs, tearing through his flesh. More vines burst from his arms, legs, and back—impaling him completely.

He looked like a blood-red cactus—pierced through and through.

“No!”

The remaining cursed ninja paled. It was too late.

More fell to their knees, clutching their chests, screaming in pain.

Pfft—Pfft—Pfft!

Bloody mist exploded through the corridor.

The stench of blood filled the air.

“…Wood Release?!”

Orochimaru’s golden, slit pupils narrowed.

A flicker of genuine surprise flashed in his eyes.

“Tch… You’ve given me another surprise, haven’t you, Uchiha Iizumi? Just how many secrets are hidden beneath that body of yours?”

“I don’t know why you were in the Land of Rain just a moment ago… and now you’re here.”

“But it doesn’t matter. All I care is that you’ve come to me.”

Orochimaru’s hunger flared.

He was the kind of man who would go to any length to claim what he desired—unless he was certain he’d never get it.

That was why he’d pursued the Rinnegan.

…

Meanwhile, in the Leaf Village.

Tsunade Konoha sat in the Uchiha Police Force’s interrogation room, her face sour as a sour lemon. Her old, wrinkled face hung low, as if everyone in the room owed her millions.

Her Root operatives had already been questioned.

Now it was her turn.

Click.

The door opened.

Uchiha Fugaku entered, his expression heavy. He never expected this firestorm to land squarely on the Investigation Corps—and on his shoulders.

Worst of all? He had no way to blame anyone.

Because it was his team—along with San-nin Kushina and Ninja Cat Tachibana Jiro—who had brought Tsunade Konoha into the base.

And it was the Hokage-sama who had ordered her presence.

When Fugaku received the news at noon, the world felt like it was crumbling.

He’d spent the entire afternoon interrogating Root ninja—enduring pressure he shouldn’t have had to bear. Now, he was utterly drained.

And now… it was time to interrogate her.

“Hmph.”

Transferring her cold gaze to Fugaku’s strained face, Tsunade Konoha said, “You’re conducting an interrogation on a Leaf Village advisor, Fugaku. That’s exactly what the Uchiha clan always wanted, isn’t it? Well, now you’ve gotten your wish. I’ll remember this moment—forever.”

Fugaku’s stomach twisted.

Her words might not scare the other Uchiha Police Force members—most of them had already sworn allegiance to Absolute Justice and didn’t take her seriously.

But he felt it.

Fugaku sat across from her, steeling himself.

“We Uchiha clan have no such intentions, Senior Advisor Tsunade,” he said, forcing calm. “We’re merely following procedure.”

“We’re simply carrying out the Hokage-sama’s orders—nothing more.”

At that moment, Tsunade Konoha cut him off.

“Fugaku.”

Her voice was grim, heavy with accusation.

“Let me ask you plainly—have you already decided to turn the Uchiha clan completely? To abandon the Fire Nation Will—the legacy of the Leaf Village?”

“Are you, under your leadership, preparing to betray the village?”

“Answer me, Fugaku.”

Ironically, the one meant to interrogate was now being interrogated.

…

Outside the interrogation room, a one-way mirror allowed observers to watch the scene—and hear every word—while the people inside remained unaware.

Kushina watched, her expression unreadable.

She turned to a nearby Investigation Corps ninja.

“Is this guy really the head of the Investigation Corps?” she asked. “He seemed half-hearted during the Root interrogations. Now? He’s not just half-hearted—he’s overpowered. That old woman has him completely on the defensive.”

“The head of the Uchiha Police Force… outmatched by a criminal?”

“Is this how you enforce justice?”

She wasn’t mocking the Uchiha. She was simply voicing what everyone else was thinking.

But her blunt question struck like a hammer.

The other Uchiha ninja flushed, embarrassed.

The proud, noble Uchiha—this was their standard?

This was their law enforcement?

A single Root ninja had Fugaku trembling.

“Why is he so weak? His nickname is Fierce Eye Fugaku! Where’s the fierceness?!”

One ninja growled, stepping forward, fists clenched.

“Wait.”

A clear, sharp voice stopped him.

Uchiha Izumi arrived, breathless, dragging a knocked-out Root ninja behind her.

Her clothes were torn, her skin bruised—evidence of a fierce fight.

She’d won.

Now, she stood silently, watching Fugaku’s cringing posture.

She inhaled slowly.

“Let him keep being weak,” she said. “Don’t stop him. What you need to do is gather everyone—every single Uchiha.”

“Let them all see what kind of man their clan leader truly is.”

“Let the ones who still hold onto hope for him see his face clearly. If, even after this, someone still chooses to follow him…”

“Then they’re just as spineless as he is.”

Izumi had long since seen through Fugaku.

She had no faith in him—no expectations.

And Fugaku had constantly sabotaged her efforts, making her life harder.

That only deepened her resentment.

…

“Hokage-sama… I don’t know if you’ll be able to handle what I’m about to say.”

Hatake Kakashi stood before Hiruzen Sarutobi—his usual half-masked face now serious, almost solemn.

Hiruzen inhaled sharply.

“So… you’ve found something. Kakashi, you haven’t disappointed me.”

Hiruzen paused, his old face darkening.

“I’m old, but not fragile. Tell me everything.”

Kakashi hesitated for a heartbeat.

“The Leaf Village Sealing Unit has decoded the intelligence scroll inside an Anbu Messenger Pigeon. The encrypted message has been decrypted.”

“The message revealed that the pigeon was sent by a spy from the Cloud Village.”

“Content: ‘The plan to collaborate with our Leaf Village informant is progressing as scheduled. The Third Hokage has indeed lost most of his sanity. The Leaf leadership is highly likely to engage in violent conflict with Uchiha Iizumi.’”

He paused.

“Bad news: When we attempted to capture the Cloud spy, he sensed us. He chose to end his life—using a jutsu to destroy his own head. The Yamanaka Clan couldn’t extract his memories.”

Hiruzen’s hands clenched the desk’s edge.

Veins bulged along his knuckles.

Crack.

The desk corner cracked under the strain.

Kakashi continued, voice steady.

“Currently, we’ve confirmed the spy’s informant network is drawn from the Hiruzen Clan.”

“And not just one. Multiple members.”

“We found one of them—but his body was cursed. When we tried to extract his memories, the cursed mark triggered. He died instantly. We apologize… it was an Anbu failure.”

Hiruzen’s face paled.

“Hokage-sama… there could be a second, third… even a fourth Cloud spy embedded within the Hiruzen Clan.”

“We haven’t caught them yet. We don’t know who they are.”

Kakashi’s words struck like a lightning bolt.

Hiruzen sat frozen.

He’d suspected the Hiruzen Clan might be involved.

After all, their hatred toward Uchiha Iizumi was well-known.

That’s why he’d ordered Anbu to monitor them.

But he’d never imagined…

The entire spy network was made up of Hiruzen Clan members.

His own family—and his own home—had been used as a front.

His wife, Fumiko, had died right under his nose.

And he hadn’t known.

He’d lived in the Hiruzen Clan Residence, while his own kin plotted betrayal.

“…Huh…”

Hiruzen’s face was a mask of storm clouds.

Even with forewarning, the truth still cut deep.

“Keep searching,” he muttered, weary.

“Yes.”

As Kakashi left, Hiruzen sat in silence, staring at the floor.

So the situation is…

Several members of the Hiruzen Clan have allied with the Cloud Village spy, using my authority to attack Iizumi.

They hate my stance on Iizumi—but they dare not say it to me. So they’ve resorted to this extreme method.

Or…

The Cloud spy approached them first. He presented a pre-planned scheme to destabilize the Leaf Village.

And the Hiruzen Clan members—driven by rage—agreed without fully understanding the consequences.

Or… the spy downplayed the damage. Why would any clan member willingly bring chaos upon the village?

His thoughts paused.

Because… it was possible.

Human nature was capable of such depths.

He’d already raised Orochimaru.

Who was to say some members of his own clan weren’t the same—playing with lives, treating the village as a game?

“Cloud Village…”

Hiruzen slammed his fist down—cracking the desk corner clean in half.

Since the end of the Third Ninja War…

This was the second time the Cloud Village had dared to challenge the Leaf.

The first time? They targeted the Hyūga Clan—costing them Hiashi’s life.

Now? They turned their gaze to the Hiruzen Clan.

Or… to him.

…

Inside the Uchiha Police Force interrogation room.

Click.

The door opened.

Uchiha Fugaku stepped out first—face stern, eyes cold.

Tsunade Konoha followed.

Fugaku froze.

Something was wrong.

Too many people stood outside.

Far more than the total number of Investigation Corps members.

He frowned, squinting.

Then he realized.

Most of the people weren’t Investigation Corps ninja.

They were ordinary Uchiha civilians.

Fugaku blinked.

“Fugaku, Head Captain… our Justice is so lowly,” sneered a Uchiha ninja, arms crossed. “You treat a criminal—about to be locked in the Leaf Prison—with such respect. She taught her subordinates to arrest your own son.”

He turned to Fugaku.

“Did you forget your younger son, Sasuke? Or is it that you only care about Itachi?”

“I heard you’ve always disliked Sasuke. Always thought he’d never measure up to that monster—Itachi.”

Fugaku’s face darkened instantly.

He stared down the man.

“Do you know what you’re saying? Watch your tone!”

But before he could react—

Another voice cut in.

“You should ask yourself that question, Fugaku Clan Head.”

Fugaku turned.

It was Izumi.

Her face was tight, her eyes blazing.

She stood before the crowd, locking eyes with Fugaku.

“You are the Uchiha Clan Head. You are the Head Captain of the Police Force.”

“Have you fulfilled your duty as Clan Head? Have you protected every innocent Uchiha? Have you ever fought for the Uchiha’s rights within the law?”

“And as Head Captain—have you upheld Justice? Or did you cower in that room, begging a criminal for mercy?”

“Your behavior is a shame to the Investigation Corps!”

This was the first time Izumi had spoken so sharply—so defiantly—against Fugaku.

She’d been disappointed for years.

She’d endured his favoritism, his petty sabotage, his constant undermining—because the Uchiha had sheltered her.

But Fugaku’s meekness in the interrogation room?

That was the final straw.

“You’ve brought shame upon Justice!” she hissed. “You are not worthy to lead the Uchiha Clan! You are not worthy to lead the Investigation Corps!”

At the edge of the crowd, Kushina raised an eyebrow.

“Hmph. Didn’t expect this kid to be so radical. Taking on Fugaku in front of everyone.”

“Guess Iizumi’s really indoctrinated her into Absolute Justice.”

Jiraiya appeared beside her, coughing lightly.

“Since you know Absolute Justice works through… persuasion and indoctrination—”

“Mind your own business,” Kushina snapped, glaring at the two sages perched on his shoulders.

Jiraiya blinked.

“…I didn’t even finish!”

“Why the double standard?!”

…

—Boom!

In the Land of Fire, molten lava—hot enough to rival a volcanic eruption—spewed forward with terrifying force.

It vaporized several grotesque, cursed-marked ninja in an instant.

The lava surged down the corridor, relentless.

It smashed into the far wall—melting through the thick metal like wax.

Then it spread—through tunnels, into labs, into storage rooms.

It consumed Orochimaru’s precious research equipment.

It slaughtered his countless tools—his disposable pawns.

Inside the monitoring room, Orochimaru inhaled the sharp, acrid smell of sulfur—seeping through the door crack.

He watched, helpless, as a high-value machine melted into molten iron.

His eyelid twitched.

“Hōhō… So crude. It’s almost insulting.”

His eyes turned dark.

He watched his subordinates die—one by one.

No pity.

In his eyes, they were only useful for one thing: exhausting Iizumi’s stamina.

Each death meant one more jutsu used.

One more step toward his goal.

As long as his prized vessels remained safe… as long as his little white mice were alive…

The loss of these tools meant nothing.

But the destruction of his research?

That was unacceptable.

Orochimaru clenched his fists.

He couldn’t stay calm.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end