"What was Tsunade thinking? Could it be… she's just been lonely too long and now she's into younger men? Or maybe she's just like the rest of us smelly men—drawn to youthful good looks?"
Inside the private room of the flower house, a sealing barrier had already been set up. Jiraiya, back on the tatami, muttered in confusion.
He wasn't exactly devastated. He'd just been blindsided by the news—he hadn't been able to process it right away.
Truth be told, he did have feelings for Tsunade. But Tsunade never reciprocated—it was just one-sided, and he had long come to terms with that.
Tsunade needed a man who could stay by her side, grow with her, and face life together. But Jiraiya believed his mission to find the Child of Prophecy left him no choice but to roam the world. He would always be a wandering sage. He could never give Tsunade the stability she wanted.
So in his heart, Jiraiya had long accepted they were not meant to be. That's why Tsunade getting together with a younger man only baffled him, rather than breaking his heart.
Orochimaru had likely said it out loud for this very reason—knowing full well it wouldn't crush him.
Now, in response to Jiraiya's ranting, Orochimaru calmly said, "A woman three years older is a golden treasure. Thirteen years older, and she gifts you an empire. It's perfectly reasonable."
Jiraiya froze mid-drink, leaned back in exaggerated disbelief, and stared at Orochimaru in horror. "You're not Orochimaru—who the hell are you?!"
The reaction left Orochimaru speechless. He could only sigh and mentally remind himself: This clown is still my best friend. I must be tolerant. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩·𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢·𝔫𝔢𝔱
Then Orochimaru explained, "That's something Kei-kun once told me. I thought it made sense. It's kind of like when you said being kept by a rich noblewoman would be painful and pleasurable at the same time. It all boils down to the same idea—when a woman is strong and wealthy, age becomes a symbol of experience and accumulation. The older she is, the more value she brings to a man."
He spoke in a scholarly tone, like delivering a universal truth.
And yes, Kei had indeed said that—but not to Orochimaru. He'd said it while chatting with Nawaki in the mental network, discussing the kind of girl Nawaki liked. Nawaki had blushed, which confirmed he did like someone. Then he got gloomy, saying he'd been dead for years, and the girl he liked would now be much older than him.
Hearing the gossip, Kei had immediately gotten cheeky, teasing that age didn't matter, height wasn't a barrier, and love could conquer all. Then he quoted the 21st-century meme: "Three years older is gold, thirteen years older is an empire." It was a slightly tweaked version, ninja-world style.
Nawaki had turned crimson, thoroughly flustered. Orochimaru, who overheard, was stunned at first but soon gave it deeper thought and found it logical—especially considering Kei and Tsunade were rumored to be in a secret relationship. The age gap matched perfectly! Clearly, Kei had learned this "wisdom" from his experiences with Tsunade.
This, then, was the incredible revelation Orochimaru had arrived at.
Indeed, Kei and Tsunade always treated each other with polite formality. Their interactions were the picture of a gentleman's restraint. No one suspected they were lovers. That's why Orochimaru had concluded they must be secretly dating.
Given their age difference and sensitive statuses, it made perfect sense to keep it under wraps.
Of course, Orochimaru wasn't going to tell anyone this—not even Jiraiya, his best friend. It touched on secrets only known within their tight-knit circle.
Still, Jiraiya's curiosity had been fully piqued. Especially with that "three years gold, thirteen years empire" line—it was so crass and yet oddly wise. A true gem of a saying.
Instantly, Jiraiya felt a deep sense of camaraderie with Uchiha Kei. Clearly, they shared the same vibe.
This excitement was tinged with a bit of confusion. After all, he knew Uchiha Kei—not personally, but well enough. Kei was close to his student Minato and was a fellow Uchiha. Jiraiya had kept tabs on him.
Previously, he'd thought Kei was just a clever but overly cautious Uchiha. Not weak, but definitely not strong either. Even though Minato praised him highly, Jiraiya had thought Kei was just average among the Uchihas.
Yet now, this same Kei had triggered massive changes across the Uchiha and all of Konoha. Jiraiya had clearly misjudged him.
Still, Jiraiya was not one to dwell. Even if he felt envy over Kei winning Tsunade's heart, it didn't breed resentment. On the contrary—his admiration grew, and he desperately wanted to befriend him.
So Jiraiya quickly paid his tab at the flower house, then left with Orochimaru to return to Konoha.
Along the way, Jiraiya peppered Orochimaru with questions and learned all kinds of new things. The one that truly floored him was this: Orochimaru had created a male enhancement pill. And on top of that, he developed a plant-based catalyst with no side effects that could dramatically increase crop yields.
Jiraiya looked at Orochimaru like he was a divine healer.
"Ahem, Orochimaru, can I have a few samples of that enhancement pill? Don't get the wrong idea—I just have a friend who's a bit weak lately and could use it."
Jiraiya even struck a shy pose and used the classic opener.
Orochimaru just rolled his eyes and tossed over a small vial. Jiraiya's eyes lit up as he cheerfully pocketed it.
Then Orochimaru said, "There's no shame in being a little deficient. No need to pretend it's for a friend."
Jiraiya snapped, "That's bull! I'm not deficient!"
Orochimaru added leisurely, "It treats various male issues—ED, PE, and more. Tsunade is already planning to integrate it into Konoha's medical system."
Jiraiya was instantly moved to reverence. "You're the best, my dearest friend! Whatever you ask, I'll do it—no complaints!"
Orochimaru just gave a dry chuckle. He knew Jiraiya's promises only held weight when he was serious—anything said with a goofy grin was just noise.
Meanwhile, about twenty kilometers outside Konoha, deep in the Naka River's primeval forest, the Uchiha clan's ancestral shrine, Naka Shrine, stood empty. Only the clan's traditional barrier remained.
The Uchiha maintained this sacred site, using it for secret clan meetings—particularly when discussions weren't suitable within the village. Normally, gatherings occurred every few months.
But it had been three months since the last meeting, and no new ones were scheduled. Why?
Because of Uchiha Kei.
Under his influence, the Uchiha had become Konoha's most glorious clan—not just in appearance, but in reality.
Now, when they walked the village streets, they weren't met with fear or resentment, but admiration and gratitude. Praise for the Uchiha echoed through Konoha. Every clan member walked tall, basking in pride.
Other departments had even welcomed Uchiha members with open arms—especially after they voluntarily opened up the Police Force. Now, many Uchiha were working across the village, striving to "make Konoha even greater."
Though they still lacked a place in the highest councils, everything else was better than ever since the village's founding.
With honor restored and futures bright, what grievances could remain? The Uchiha's sense of pride and their will to protect Konoha had never been stronger.
Even Hashirama's "protect our village" slogan could now be spoken with pride by the Uchiha.
That's why none of them noticed what was happening beneath Naka Shrine—how Black Zetsu and the White Zetsus were digging tunnels.
He now sat once more on his White Zetsu-made throne, his withered body sustained by a life-support device.
Tobi, the White Zetsu wrapped around him, detached with a shimmy. "Amazing, amazing! Madara-sama, you're so amazing! Even at your age, you're still a beast! Truly incredible!"
Tobi could feel the immense, domineering power in Madara—greater than anyone he'd ever sensed. Even Minato Namikaze, who nearly killed him, was lesser by comparison.
But Madara wasn't amused.
Only one thing mattered now…
"Did you get the Genjutsu game?" he asked Black Zetsu.
The answer came through a White Zetsu possessed by Black Zetsu.
They nodded and handed it over. They hadn't dared to infiltrate Konoha directly, but stealing a few things with White Zetsu's stealth wasn't hard. Despite earlier alerts, they could still swipe things undetected.
Half a month later, Madara finally had the Genjutsu game he'd been craving.
Without hesitation, he fired up "Fruit Ninja," enjoying a blissful session until he was once again brutally beaten by the hidden boss. Lying back, he closed his eyes and supported his head with a clenched fist, basking in the euphoria.
"Yes… that feeling… being able to move freely, to dance without restraint—even in defeat, it lingers sweetly…"
After two weeks of forced abstinence, Madara had learned to enjoy the game for its own sake. He was no longer enraged by defeat—just a pure, satisfied player.
Looking at the ruined scrolls of "Fruit Ninja," he immediately ordered Black Zetsu to fetch more. He'd turned this game into a consumable—boss fights only, every scroll torn to shreds.
Black Zetsu: "I don't wanna!"
But he couldn't say that aloud. Until the Eye of the Moon Plan was complete, he had to maintain his role as Madara's will incarnate. So he silently slithered away using the Mayfly Technique.
Left behind, Madara felt empty once more.
Only the game could fill that void.
Until the new scrolls arrived, he had to endure the "downtime." It was excruciating.
His eyes drifted to the other scrolls.
Should he try one of the others?
A scroll practically flew into his hand.
A new title: "Outlast."
Curious, Madara asked what it was. The White Zetsu explained.
"A pure survival horror game? Designed specifically for the Uchiha?"
"Interesting. I already thought Genjutsu games were tailor-made for the Uchiha. Now there's one built just for us?"
"Very well. Until 'Fruit Ninja' returns, let's see what this 'Uchiha-exclusive' game has to offer."
With unshakable confidence, Madara launched "Outlast."
Upon entering, he once again felt youthful and powerful—just like every player before entering the hospital in the game. Even the old and feeble regained vigor.
Thus began Madara's journey in "Outlast."
He quickly grasped the story:
"The Root Organization? The Indra Clan? Blood Eyes?"
"Hmph. Clearly about Konoha's Root and the Uchiha. This kind of symbolic allegory is dull. If you're going to use a game to tell the truth, be bold about it!"
"That brat Kei still lacks presence."
"Well, he's not even twenty yet. To shape him into a proper Uchiha, he'll need serious training."
Arrogantly grumbling, Madara stepped into the hospital—unaware that what awaited him was the most intense Genjutsu game experience yet.
Stripped of power, with all techniques disabled, he was slaughtered by lunatic monsters—just like Danzo before him.
Yet unlike Danzo, Madara didn't scream. At most, he grunted—stoic, unyielding, full of pride.
"Is that all you've got?"
And he had to admit—this kind of stimulation could indeed awaken the Sharingan in many weak-willed Uchihas.
Still, that was all it was.
Having grasped the gameplay, Madara began his parkour escape journey.
Hiding in lockers or under beds? Never.
He'd rather die on his feet than live like a coward.
And he did. Using only movement and stealth, he pushed forward relentlessly.
In that moment, Madara's cool and aloof demeanor shattered. His pupils trembled. His real-world Sharingan flared open.
"Hashirama!? Izuna!?"
"Why is it you two?! How can it be you?!"