Chapter 28: The Fox Mourns the Rabbit

There was no need for hand signs; as soon as Uchiha Li fixed his Sharingan gaze upon the group of ANBU, the genjutsu had already taken effect.

As a technique unique to the Sharingan, "Demonic Illusion: Shackling Stakes" creates a mental world in which the target feels as if stakes have been driven into their limbs. At this moment, the victims lose all physical freedom, accompanied by the illusion of real pain. This technique, also known as the "Golden Binding Genjutsu," was the very one Itachi used to subdue Orochimaru instantly when the latter tried to seize his Mangekyō in the original story.

Granted, Orochimaru’s soul was compromised by his own Reincarnation technique, but he was still a true Kage-level powerhouse, not someone who could be subdued by any random illusion.

Now, this group of supposed ANBU stood no chance—they trembled uncontrollably, unable to break free from the genjutsu’s grip.

“What a terrifying genjutsu! To control so many people at once in an instant!”

The ninjas gathered at the perimeter, witnessing Uchiha Li dispatch the technique so effortlessly, could not help but exclaim in awe.

“Is the power of the three-tomoe Sharingan really this strong, or is Uchiha Li just special?”

Some began to sense something was amiss, voicing their doubts.

“No wonder he could wipe out an entire Cloud ninja squad alone. Li’s strength is far beyond that of a mere elite jonin!”

Nara Suzaku muttered quietly, his gaze filled with uncertainty and astonishment.

Akimichi Si Dong nodded silently, then said in a low voice, “But this only makes things more complicated…”

On hearing this, Nara Suzaku shook his head, gazing thoughtfully at the controlled ANBU.

“Now, we can open the scrolls on them.”

Uchiha Li ignored the crowd’s commentary, and after finishing his work, looked to Nara Shikaku, signaling for his people to proceed.

Nara Shikaku was still somewhat stunned by Uchiha Li’s display. Previously, he had only heard Suzaku report Li’s achievements, never witnessed them firsthand. Now, after seeing this simple application of genjutsu, all his doubts vanished.

In fact, a guess began to form in his mind: Uchiha Li might have already reached the threshold of Kage-level. As for whether Li possessed the Mangekyō, Shikaku hadn’t even considered it.

It would be absurd—Mangekyō was not something you could buy at the market. The Uchiha clan had Fugaku as an unexpected exception; how could there possibly be another?

Setting aside these thoughts, Shikaku instructed Nara Suzaku and Akimichi Si Dong to personally retrieve the scrolls from the ANBU’s backs.

“Let’s hope this is all a misunderstanding, and there are no Uchiha corpses in the scrolls.”

Though even he felt this was impossible, Shikaku instinctively wished it so. As the supreme commander of the front lines and a direct subordinate of the Hokage, he understood all too well the consequences if certain facts came to light.

But unfortunately, his hopes were dashed. Once the scrolls were unsealed, more than a dozen corpses fell to the ground.

The fan insignia representing the Uchiha clan stood out on their garments, and many faces were recognizable to the crowd. They were unmistakably members of the Uchiha.

In that instant, an uproar erupted.

Not only were the Uchiha filled with righteous anger, but even those who had merely come to watch were equally indignant.

“Suzaku-senpai, Si Dong-senpai, please open my clansmen’s eyelids.”

The last trace of expression vanished from Uchiha Li’s face, leaving only a cold mask.

Nara Suzaku and Akimichi Si Dong, seeing the bloodstains around the corpses' eye sockets, forced bitter smiles as they pried open the eyelids.

As expected, beneath the lids were hollow sockets; the eyes were gone.

One, two, three—every single Uchiha corpse was the same.

This time, the crowd’s murmurs erupted into chaos, unstoppable.

“This is outrageous, absolutely outrageous! How could the ANBU do such a thing?”

“Sure, the Uchiha aren’t always easy to get along with, and I don’t personally like them, but they died fighting for the village!”

“Is this really what the village wants? I can’t accept it—how could our village do this…”

“Hush! Shut up—do you want to die?!”

Compared to the cacophony of voices from the others, the Uchiha themselves were far more ‘calm.’

Yet this silence spoke volumes.

Uchiha Li clenched his fists, a storm of emotions raging within him.

As an Uchiha—even with a past identity—the sight before him filled him with natural fury.

“Nara Clan Leader, with the facts laid bare, do you still believe this is just a misunderstanding?”

Uchiha Li did not raise his voice, but his tone was cool and unwavering.

“This matter…”

Nara Shikaku opened his mouth, but found himself at a loss for words.

Although he hadn’t committed the act himself—it was the group of apparent ANBU who had—but he was responsible for this place. Even if the main blame did not fall on him, he could never escape responsibility for negligence.

But right now, assigning blame was secondary; the urgent question was how to resolve the crisis.

Uchiha Li stepped forward, took a deep breath, and addressed the crowd loudly:

“The Uchiha do not deny our faults, but I want everyone to understand one thing: we are also part of the village.”

“Just like any of you, we fight to protect the village, even at the cost of our lives.”

He paused, then continued, “But our struggle, our sacrifice, is for a better tomorrow for the village—not so that, after death, even our bodies would be desecrated by our own people!”

His words and sweeping gaze made everyone involuntarily lower their heads.

Even those completely uninvolved felt a persistent sense of shame. Especially those who were most hostile toward the Uchiha on ordinary days now felt utterly mortified.

“Friends, please think about it,” Uchiha Li pressed on. “Today, it is the Uchiha. But what about tomorrow?”

He stopped, but his meaning was clear.

Though his guidance was deliberate, Uchiha Li had no regrets. He needed to seize this opportunity to evoke empathy between the Uchiha and the rest.

With such empathy, the village’s view of the Uchiha would change dramatically. Perhaps not to acceptance or camaraderie, but at least from isolation and resentment to sympathy.

Soon, the mood shifted—an atmosphere of shared sorrow swept the crowd.

“This is a disgrace, a true disgrace! How could the village do such a thing to the Uchiha?”

“If we might be treated like this after death, why should we fight for the village at all?”

“The village must give us an explanation. This time, I stand with the Uchiha!”