"Little Saitama, you're back?"
Saitama let out a quiet breath of relief when he saw Grandma Kaka standing safely in the yard.
Noticing the two unfamiliar figures beside her, he didn't speak right away.
"Saitama, these men are from the clan's police force. They said they were looking for you," Kaka said.
"I see. Grandma, you should head inside and rest. I'll handle it."
"All right," she nodded, understanding her presence wouldn't be helpful here.
Once she entered the house, Saitama turned to the two men. He gave a polite nod and gestured to the stools in the yard. The two watched him with interest.
One of them wore the standard black Uchiha high-collared uniform. He looked young, perhaps in his twenties—calm, sharp-eyed, and unmistakably a shinobi.
Saitama quietly sized them up as well.
"You're Uchiha Saitama, right?" the man asked, finally breaking the silence.
"Yes, sir," Saitama replied respectfully. After all, he was still just a student at the Ninja Academy.
"I've heard about you from Shisui."
"Oh?" Saitama raised an eyebrow. "And what did he say?"
"He said you're very talented."
Saitama gave a modest smile. "Sir, you must know my performance at the Academy. Do you still call that talent?"
He knew full well they had investigated him before coming—this question was more of a challenge.
The man nodded. "That refined shuriken technique of yours? It speaks for itself."
"I didn't expect word to spread so quickly," Saitama said, his tone more serious now as he met the man's gaze.
"Shisui told us about your potential, but we weren't convinced until today," the man continued. "That's why we've come to speak with you directly."
"And how can I help you?" Saitama asked, puzzled.
The man gestured toward himself and his silent partner. "We're part of the Uchiha Police Force. We serve the clan."
Saitama's eyes narrowed slightly. He said 'serve the clan'—not the village. That distinction said a lot.
Has the divide grown this sharp already? he wondered. A flicker of doubt passed through his mind.
"Shisui is now one of our reserve members," the man added.
So that's it, Saitama thought.
"You probably know why we're here. Join us—serve Uchiha."
The man stood, eyes burning with conviction.
Saitama didn't answer right away. "You've yet to tell me your name, sir."
The man smiled. "I'm Uchiha Bomori. This is my comrade, Uchiha Lin."
You might think they were being too forward, but Bomori seemed unconcerned.
"Joining us isn't just about loyalty to the clan—it's a chance to grow stronger."
"In the Academy, you don't have a professional shinobi to guide your training."
Bomori's words were calculated. They had done their homework. They knew Saitama was self-driven, often practicing alone in the woods. Shisui had likely given them detailed reports.
Saitama didn't pretend otherwise. "I'm honored to serve the clan."
He had already planned to side with the Uchiha. Unlike Shisui and Itachi, who would later choose a lonelier, more tragic path, Saitama had no desire to stand against his own blood. That route only led to pain—and gained him nothing.
But it was still too early to reveal his full hand.
Bomori's eyes brightened. "Welcome aboard."
Uchiha Lin, who had remained silent so far, gave him a small smile.
These men, part of the Uchiha Police Force, were clearly invested in strengthening the clan from within.
"Saitama, with your current strength, could you apply for early graduation?" Bomori asked, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
They had confirmed his natural talent, but they had yet to see him fight seriously.
"If the police force needs me sooner, I can apply to graduate next term," Saitama said calmly.