Chapter Four: Removing the Tube

Uchiha Madara’s entire life revolved around just four words: Senju Hashirama. It was a devotion that even surpassed his attachment to his younger brother Izuna. From their childhood acquaintance to their adult rivalry, from forging the Hidden Leaf together to parting ways in agony due to conflicting ideals, Hashirama’s shadow permeated every moment of Madara’s existence. Even now, as he slumbered in the base, surely his dreams were filled with Hashirama’s fleeting smiles and bitter tears.

Once Bai Mu understood this, he began devising a plan to remove the oxygen tube without causing harm. In his previous life, he was a dedicated background actor—his skills were nothing short of legendary. The big stars had professional makeup artists whose brushes performed miracles, while the makeup artists for extras were usually people who had switched careers from selling pancakes, smearing sauce at random on faces to get the job done. As the ace among extras, Bai Mu knew he couldn’t allow himself to be treated so carelessly. He had secretly learned many tricks from those makeup artists, often doing his own makeup.

During the next half hour, Bai Mu used the white ash from the tree, wielding his artistry like a magician. With just a touch of powder, and given his resemblance to Hashirama, the lean contours of his face instantly transformed into the youthful look from the anime.

“What are you doing? Trying to make your face as pale as ours and join us? It won’t work—you have to cut out your rectum first,” Spiral White Zetsu spread his hands, completely baffled by Bai Mu’s actions.

Hell no—I don’t want to become someone who can’t even relieve himself!

“Lord Madara… happy,” Bai Mu feigned innocence.

“Oh, oh, oh! You’re so thoughtful. Are you trying to cheer up Lord Madara? Too bad he’s in hibernation. Even if he were awake, he wouldn’t get our jokes at all,” Spiral White Zetsu sighed, shaking his head.

Bai Mu approached Uchiha Madara, took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and gently touched the oxygen tubes on Madara’s back—there were three, but he only planned to remove one.

“Little Bai Mu, those tubes are Lord Madara’s lifelines, you absolutely must not, must not, must not…” Spiral White Zetsu’s sentence was cut short, never to be finished.

A soft snap…

The milky-white tube detached from Madara’s spine and fell to the ground.

“Ahhhhh!” Spiral White Zetsu was so terrified he practically disintegrated, his spiral body bursting apart like a flower, wriggling across the floor like worms.

The scientific term: bristling in panic.

“Oh, why are you screaming like a little girl?” Spiky White Zetsu was watering the plants nearby. He turned around—

“Ahhhhh!”

Spiky White Zetsu instantly exploded into a sea-urchin-like ball.

Madara’s eyes shot open. One hollow orb like a bottomless abyss, and the other, a three-tomoe Sharingan slowly spinning, a forceful aura of disdain for the world erupting in an instant.

“Madara, Madara, Madara… Lord! Please don’t be angry! It was my boy’s mistake, if you must kill, kill me! Please don’t hurt little Bai Mu!” Spiral White Zetsu kowtowed frantically on the ground.

Spiky White Zetsu rushed over, picked up the fallen oxygen tube, and reattached it to Madara.

Madara’s neck turned dryly, like gears lacking oil, creaking as he twisted, his lone eye fixing on Bai Mu’s sunny face.

It was the goofy, innocent smile Hashirama wore as a child in the anime, now brought to life by Bai Mu.

“Hashirama…?” Just awakened from hibernation, Madara’s toothless, shriveled lips slowly formed the name.

“Madara! Why are you sitting here? Come skip stones with me!” Bai Mu, even as cold sweat trickled down his neck, maintained the brightest smile.

“Skipping stones…” Madara even wondered if he was still dreaming. In his dreams, he’d relived countless times their first meeting, the moments at the Valley of the End, but what he missed most were the carefree days by the river, skipping stones as children.

The day Hashirama married Mito Uzumaki was a close second for pain.

“You’re not Hashirama…” Madara, exhausted, could barely keep his eyes open, yet his gaze lingered on Bai Mu’s face.

Sweat soaked Bai Mu’s clenched palms, fearing that Madara might kill him with just a glance.

“Hashirama would never wear women’s clothes… I tried to persuade him many times, but he never agreed…” Madara forced a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Whew… If he’s smiling, maybe I won’t die today.” Bai Mu was so tense he didn’t even notice the system task completion prompt.

“But…who are you really?” Madara’s mood shifted faster than flipping a page, his eye instantly brimming with murderous intent, sending Bai Mu’s spirits plummeting.

“Aaaaaah! Lord Madara, he’s my boy! The Hashirama clone created by Black Zetsu—after it failed, I kept raising him! He really didn’t mean any harm, he just wanted to make you happy…” Spiral White Zetsu knelt, tears streaming down his face.

“So it’s that thing…” Madara remembered. In his limited lucid moments, the two White Zetsus, bored in the underground cave, had picked up a failed child experiment and fed it for fun. He hadn’t bothered to intervene. He never expected they’d actually keep it alive.

“Lord Madara… I’m sorry. After awakening, I had some memories about you in my mind, but they stopped at skipping stones by the river,” Bai Mu bowed in apology at just the right moment.

Inside, Bai Mu was panic-stricken. If Madara suddenly declared, “Those memories belong only to Hashirama and me,” and killed him with a glance, it would all be over.

“The most deeply imprinted memories in one’s genes… Even passed on to a clone. Perhaps those were Hashirama’s most cherished times as well…” Madara breathed slowly, his eyes gradually closing.

As one ages, the heart turns to reminiscence, and the will to kill is dulled by the passage of time.

“Unless the right person appears, don’t disturb me again. I don’t wish to feel the decay of this body any longer.” Madara shut his eyes completely, returning to his dream.

“Whew…” Bai Mu finally exhaled, his back soaked in cold sweat. That was terrifying—being able to kill with just a glance, a kind of dominance he could never hope to imitate.

He had to remember this feeling—for a true man, such is the way!

“I want to become even more formidable in the ninja world than Uchiha Madara!” Bai Mu had finally found his life’s purpose.

“Whew… That was close… Nearly got wiped out.” Spiral White Zetsu had almost collapsed into a puddle.

Bai Mu’s gaze softened as he looked at Spiral White Zetsu—he’d actually pleaded for Bai Mu just now. Truly a good mother figure.

“Ding!”

“Task: Remove Madara’s oxygen tube, completed!”

“Reward: One random hero skill draw”

“Note: Among heaven and earth, your courage is unrivaled.”

“Ding!”

“New task: Dance with Uchiha Madara”

“Reward: One random hero skill draw”

“Note: The first to dance with the King of Konoha”

“…This is ridiculous! If you want me dead, just say so!” Bai Mu roared in his heart.