159 They simply knew.

“Your mother seems very upset. Do you know why?” Orochimaru looked at Neji, who sat before him with the demeanor of a little adult, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Lord Orochimaru...” Neji’s mother’s expression changed drastically. She knew full well what Orochimaru intended to say and hurried forward to stop him.

“Hmm?!” Orochimaru’s gaze cut sharply toward her, emanating a chilling aura. Neji’s mother fell silent like a frightened bird, but when she saw Neji at her side, awkward and helpless, she struggled to say something.

But Orochimaru pressed on, “I could refrain from telling you now, but how long do you think you can keep this from him?”

At these words, Neji’s mother opened her mouth, her face shifting through a spectrum of emotions before she finally knelt down, defeated and silent.

Neji glanced at his mother, then at his teacher, unease welling within him.

Orochimaru smiled wryly and said plainly, “Your father, Hiashi Hyuga, he is going to die.”

“Die?” Neji’s face clouded with confusion.

At his age, he could not fully grasp the concept of death, but children in the ninja world matured quickly; he sensed the horror encapsulated in that word.

This was something dreadful—and it was to befall his father.

Neji looked to his mother, hoping for a denial.

But she turned her head away, unable to meet his eyes, a tear sliding down her cheek.

From his mother’s reaction, Neji understood the truth, yet he still could not comprehend why his father would suddenly die.

He turned to his teacher and voiced the question that troubled him.

“It’s simple. Because someone wants to kill him.”

Orochimaru licked his lips as a small emerald-green snake slithered out from beneath his long sleeve.

Startled by the snake, Neji instinctively stepped back two paces but soon halted.

The snake on Orochimaru’s arm suddenly stopped moving; the vibrant life within it was rapidly fading away.

Neji’s eyes widened as he watched Orochimaru’s fingers constrict the snake’s neck—a first true understanding of what ‘death’ and ‘murder’ meant.

Would his father die like that? Fear, panic, and a flood of indescribable emotions surged within him.

After a long pause, Neji asked, “Teacher, can you save my father?”

“I cannot.”

Orochimaru regarded Neji with a strange smile.

“But you can save him, if you are willing to pay the price.”

“...”

...

Night had fallen. The Hokage’s conference room was brightly lit.

The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, two Hokage advisors, and the three legendary ninja of Konoha sat around the table—some solemn, others cynical—exchanging a few words.

Only when the Jonin representative Shikaku Nara, Uchiha Fugaku, the Hizashi and Hiashi brothers, and the Hyuga clan elder entered did they fall silent and assume a more serious demeanor.

This was a small, urgent meeting, convened to address the incident in the Hyuga clan territory, where the clan head had been killed during a mission.

Three meetings had already been held on the matter, and in the last one, a decision was nearly reached to sacrifice Hiashi.

But the sudden intelligence provided by Orochimaru overturned all previous conclusions.

Tsunade confronted him directly, “Orochimaru, where did you get this information? How can you be sure the Cloud Village knows about this?”

All eyes in the room fixed intently on Orochimaru, searching for answers.

Their curiosity was palpable.

Orochimaru smiled but evaded the question, instead saying, “I encountered the culprit behind the Nine-Tails’ assault.”

Tsunade’s heart skipped a beat. “What did you say?”

Hiruzen’s eyes sharpened. “Orochimaru, you must not speak recklessly on this matter.”

He recalled how, soon after the Nine-Tails’ attack, Orochimaru had been severely injured during his experiments and had spread falsehoods to the outside world.

“Old man, this time it’s true,” Orochimaru raised an eyebrow and spoke confidently.

“That person wore a black coat and a tiger-striped mask, exposing only his right eye—a Mangekyo Sharingan. His jutsu was a space-time ninjutsu, which he used to infiltrate Konoha…”

He recounted the details thoroughly, describing Obito Uchiha in full, except for revealing his true identity.

The longer Orochimaru spoke, the grimmer the expressions around the table became.

Such detail proved this was no fabrication, and the mention of the Mangekyo Sharingan… the eyes in the room naturally flickered toward Uchiha Fugaku, laden with unspoken meaning.

Fugaku’s face shifted as well. Initially puzzled why he had been called to discuss the Hyuga clan’s troubles—since he had no prior involvement—he realized this was the reason.

He cast a grudging glance at Orochimaru, silently questioning why this intelligence had not been shared earlier, leaving him unprepared.

Yet his doubts were soon addressed as Orochimaru continued.

“Though the exact reasons remain unclear, it’s evident the masked man holds a grudge against Konoha. The Nine-Tails attack was undoubtedly an act of vengeance…”

Orochimaru paused before adding softly, “And, of course, to sow discord between the Uchiha clan and Konoha.”

The assembled exchanged uneasy looks. The tension in the village after the Nine-Tails’ attack was still fresh in their minds; none dared contradict him.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Fugaku asked quickly, “Lord Orochimaru, what exactly is this Mangekyo Sharingan? Are you sure? No one in our clan has gone missing—how could an outsider possess such an eye?”

“I do not know, nor can I confirm,” Orochimaru shrugged, then turned his gaze toward the silent Danzo with a faintly mocking smile.

“It need not be your clansman. Perhaps an outsider obtained a Sharingan and, by some stroke of luck, awakened the Mangekyo. It’s not impossible.”

Meeting Orochimaru’s enigmatic gaze, Danzo stiffened but secretly felt a spark of hope.

“Perhaps it truly is possible,” Fugaku murmured. Years of conflict had bred audacity; many had stolen Sharingan through stealth or subterfuge. Yet aside from Kakashi, no outsider had risen to prominence using it, so the Uchiha never bothered to investigate deeply.

As they absorbed Orochimaru’s information, Hizashi suddenly stood.

“Before Guroya died, there were traces of genjutsu control on his body. Lord Orochimaru, do you mean to say this was the work of that masked man?”

“Not ‘mean to say’—it is certain. Considering his penchant for undermining the village and the Uchiha, this fits his pattern perfectly.”

Orochimaru looked around calmly.

“Now you understand: this is not a matter of whether the Cloud Village’s delegation knew about this.”

“But that they inevitably will know.”