Night. Beneath Konoha. Root Headquarters.
Dense layers of barrier seals formed an interlocking array—triggering one would activate the rest, creating a lockdown and alarm system to alert Root shinobi, allowing them to swiftly capture any intruders.
Besides the barrier seals, there were living creatures like insects and sensor birds scattered throughout. Anyone who entered without authorization would immediately be met with lethal force.
There were also shinobi hiding in the shadows, ensuring the security of the Root base.
You could say that while Root's combat strength might not be the strongest, their execution and fearless spirit ranked among the top in the shinobi world.
For these people, death might even be a kind of release.
Yet tonight, within this heavily fortified Root base, a shadowy figure slipped silently into the deepest chamber—the residence of Root's leader, Shimura Danzō.
To ensure his own safety, unless absolutely necessary, Danzo never returned to the surface.
Inside the room, Danzo was still awake, studying a scroll in his hands.
The black figure passed soundlessly through the door and flicked his sleeve in Danzō's direction.
"Ha..."
Danzō opened his mouth in a yawn, a wave of sleepiness washing over him.
"So tired..."
"It seems I really am getting old. I should sleep."
With that muttered complaint, Danzō casually set down the scroll, patted his mouth with his hand, and opened his right eye.
Mangekyō Sharingan—Insight.
Even if he could only use its most basic abilities, for someone like Danzo, who lacked any special bloodline, this eye was invaluable. The sudden fatigue he had felt just now was unusual, and for the sake of his safety, he activated his precious Mangekyō Sharingan.
What he saw were intricate barrier patterns—aside from the chakra operating within the room, there wasn't the slightest trace of anything abnormal in front of him.
"Was it... just my imagination?"
"Have I truly grown old?"
His face twisted in a snarl. "I am not old! I will live for a long, long time. I will become Konoha's greatest Hokage! Nothing will stand in my way!"
To reassure himself, Danzō used the Sharingan again to scan the chakra signatures nearby, confirming the guards were still in place before walking toward his bed.
The bed was made of plain stone, its bedding worn and simple—a frugal old man's resting place. At a glance, no one would believe that the infamous Danzo lived in such austerity.
"It's late. I should sleep."
As Danzo lay down on the stone bed and prepared to close his eyes, a black hand suddenly appeared before him.
Squelch!
"Ah—!"
His right eye was gouged out, and Danzo couldn't suppress a scream.
The physical pain was manageable, but the mental agony pushed him to limits.
That was his Mangekyō Sharingan!
"Who... are you?!"
He growled the question through clenched teeth, his hand subtly moving toward a hidden spot on the stone bed.
"Don't bother. I've already isolated this room. If you want to try alerting your Root shinobi, go ahead." Kamizuki Hikari held Shisui's Mangekyō Sharingan between his fingers, sighing softly.
"You disappoint me. Such a powerful eye... stuck inside your decaying body. I imagine even the eye itself weeps in regret."
No alarm sounded—Danzō's heart began to race in panic.
He knew his own limits.
With his left eye taken and his right arm currently sealed, he couldn't use the Izanagi revival. At best, he was now just a regular jōnin. Gritting his teeth, knowing the enemy came with lethal intent, he decided to strike back.
A kunai flashed into his hand, and he stabbed it straight into Hikari's shadowy form.
Direct hit.
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