Chapter Seven: Time to Leave

Another week of rehabilitation training had passed, and Bai Mu’s limbs had gradually filled out. He no longer looked like a walking corpse on the brink of death. Though still a bit thin, he finally resembled a proper thirteen- or fourteen-year-old child.

At last, on this day, Bai Mu sensed something amiss.

As the saying goes, a dog can’t stop itself from eating filth, and Bai Jue can’t stop asking about filth.

Bai Mu had been living here for nearly half a month, and yet Swirled Bai Jue had never once asked him what it felt like to defecate.

“Why don’t you ever go to the bathroom?” Bai Mu decided to take the initiative.

“Hmm… Because we don’t have intestines. We don’t need to eat. We are the highest form of life—perpetual motion beings that don’t even need photosynthesis.” Swirled Bai Jue gave a big thumbs-up.

“Then do you know what it feels like to go to the bathroom?” Bai Mu refused to believe it—was this world he’d come to truly so twisted?

It was as if a sharp spear had pierced his heart, and then someone stuffed a cat inside his chest.

Swirled Bai Jue was agitated, his face contorting with lines like writhing tentacles, staring intently at Bai Mu.

“Well? Ask me what it feels like to go to the bathroom!” Bai Mu fixed his gaze on Swirled Bai Jue.

“Wow! A big black rat just ran past! I can’t let it gnaw up the Bai Jue who hasn’t woken up yet!” Swirled Bai Jue pointed into the darkness and ran off without looking back.

“He’s acting strange.” Bai Mu tilted his head and pondered for a long time, still unable to figure out why Bai Jue no longer asked about going to the bathroom.

With the daily exercises, Bai Mu’s dual attributes had recovered to 500—a level at which he could barely survive in the shinobi world.

Humans are drawn to the light. Staying in this dark, damp underground for so long made Bai Mu feel as if he were growing mold. He decided it was time to leave.

As for Swirled Bai Jue’s favorability task… completing it here was impossible—pleasing Uchiha Madara three times? If he disturbed Madara’s rest one more time, even if Madara bore no ill will, a single glare could kill him.

Yet, as luck would have it, just as Bai Mu was about to leave, Black Zetsu returned with intelligence…

“Well, Lord Black Zetsu, look at my cub! Under my care, he can talk and jump again!” Swirled Bai Jue presented Bai Mu to Black Zetsu as if showing off a treasure.

“…” Bai Mu was helpless. Black Zetsu was nothing like the eccentric, artificial Bai Jue—he was the true villain, the master schemer. Bai Mu could only bow slightly, “Greetings, Lord Black Zetsu.”

Black Zetsu stared at Bai Mu for a long time, making his skin crawl, before finally grinning and rasping, “It seems my failure was just a fluke. My scientific prowess is no less than Orochimaru’s—just a bit unlucky.”

Bai Mu remained expressionless. Are all villains adorable in their own lairs? You, with your limited knowledge, dare compare yourself to Orochimaru? That man actually cultivated Yamato, while you just made a pile of empty husks. If his soul hadn’t transmigrated here, even Swirled Bai Jue wouldn’t have been able to revive him no matter how hard he tried.

Black Zetsu didn’t linger on Bai Mu. He went to Uchiha Madara and woke him.

“How goes it? My will of darkness—have you found an Uchiha worthy of bearing my name?” Madara opened his tired eyes, still believing Black Zetsu to be a manifestation of his own malice.

“My lord, I have found one—a child who truly understands love, who upholds it absolutely, and who is supremely gifted. His love for his village and family knows no bounds. Though young, with my guidance, awakening the Mangekyō is only a matter of time.” Black Zetsu bowed slightly.

“Excellent. Only those who understand love most deeply will, when their world collapses, hate it with equal depth. I have lingered too long in this limbo between the underworld and the living. Perhaps the shinobi world has already forgotten my name. Bring him here—let him bear the name of Uchiha Madara, and may the shinobi world tremble beneath it once more.”

Madara’s breath was steady and calm, his tone exuding a boundless, awe-inspiring ambition.

“This… the aura… it’s overwhelming! It’s at least three stories higher than the Buddha’s transformation at the summit!” Bai Mu trembled with excitement. If not for me, the master of pretentiousness, the world of Naruto would be eternally shrouded in darkness! If you’re going to do it, be the most imposing figure in the Naruto world!

“Hehehe… I will see to it without delay…” Black Zetsu rasped, laughter laced with centuries of patience. Mother had waited long enough. Only Uchiha Madara had the power to set her free.

Madara slowly turned his gaze to Bai Mu. “The boy with Hashirama’s memories… Leave this place. Let’s see how far you can go—if, when I return, you can amuse me.”

“Yes, Lord Madara.” Bai Mu bowed again.

“A fifteen-year-old body, with no ninja training at all—wasting the most precious growth period. His potential for improvement is limited.” Black Zetsu clearly had no faith in Bai Mu, not even bothering to consider him a pawn.

Bai Mu flipped him off behind his back, while Swirled Bai Jue flashed two middle fingers right in front of him—like mother, like son.

But did this mean Madara had no intention of letting him inherit anything? Bai Mu didn’t care for other things—he just wanted the name Uchiha Madara.

“Tell me the child’s name,” Madara asked, moments before sinking back into sleep.

“Uchiha Shisui,” Black Zetsu answered with a cruel smile.

“Draw the blade, still the waters—an excellent name,” Madara murmured, closing his eyes and drifting once more into slumber.

What? Bai Mu’s mind reeled with confusion.

Why Shisui? Wasn’t it supposed to be Obito?

If Shisui was to inherit Madara’s name, what would happen to that lovable villain who waged war on the world for the sake of a world with Rin?

On further thought…

No matter how dark Black Zetsu’s heart or how poor his judgment, he’d never choose a fool and a dead last like Obito.

Bai Mu remembered that Obito had awakened his Sharingan at age twelve. No matter how much he understood love, without talent, he was unworthy of bearing Madara’s name.

Shisui, on the other hand, was different—a true Uchiha prodigy, who embodied the will of great love. Even at a young age, he earned the title “Shunshin Shisui” in the Third Great War, rivaling even Itachi in future fame.

In that light, it made perfect sense for Black Zetsu to target him.

Choosing Obito was sheer blindness.

In the original story, Obito just happened to fall into this base and awakened the Two-Tomoe Sharingan, which hinted at the Mangekyō and thus gained Madara’s personal favor. As for the fool Black Zetsu had his eye on—Shisui—he unexpectedly committed suicide, forcing Black Zetsu to abandon that pawn.

When you think of it that way… it all fits.

“I have to visit Nagato. I won’t be back for a while. You two stay here and look after Madara,” Black Zetsu announced, the most diligent and dedicated laborer in the shinobi world. For a thousand years, he’d worked tirelessly in the shadows. No sooner had he reported in at home than he rushed off to run his schemes on two fronts.

The base once again was left with only the two Bai Jues and Bai Mu.

“I’m leaving too…” Bai Mu said quietly, looking at Swirled Bai Jue.

“No, no, no… You can’t! You’re just a baby. The shinobi world is far too dangerous. We should stay here for a while longer—say, thirty years…” Swirled Bai Jue waved his hands frantically.

“Don’t exaggerate. There are safe places in the shinobi world. I can take care of myself.” Bai Mu yearned for sunlight—he felt like he was about to turn to mold.

“No, no, no, the shinobi world is full of danger everywhere.”

“In Konoha, it’s all a bunch of mentally unstable lunatics, and there’s a big white snake who’ll slice you into thin pieces.”

“The Hidden Cloud is full of muscle-obsessed brutes, and adorable little boys like you would be treated like lambs…”

“In the Hidden Stone, there’s an old man who could crush you to dust at any moment.”

“The Land of Wind is practically a graveyard for Bai Jue—there’s not a drop of water, you’d die of thirst!”

“The Hidden Mist has those terrifying sharp teeth—they’d gnaw your bones to nothing, it’s horrifying!”

Swirled Bai Jue painted himself as a monster, trying to frighten Bai Mu into staying put.

“Only here are we pure white lotuses, untouched by the world,” Swirled Bai Jue said, cupping his vortex-shaped face, gazing at Bai Mu.

Bai Mu reached out and hugged Swirled Bai Jue. “Mother, your child is grown. It’s time to let go.”

Swirled Bai Jue was stunned for a long time before tears flowed like a waterfall. “My child!”