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TUS Chapter 301: Explosions, Betrayals, and a 30-Meter-Tall Muscle Monster
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 23:33:44 +0000 UTC"Hm?" Just as Funan returned to Konoha, something made him pause.
"What is it?" Yako immediately turned to him.
Funan said calmly: "Mifune is dead."
"And the five thousand samurai…?"
"All dead."
Yako fell silent.
Funan continued speaking without any fluctuation. "Yako, send word— from this day forward, the Land of Iron is under Konoha’s protection. Its people will be treated as Konoha’s own."
"Understood."
"Report!" A shinobi from the Hyūga clan approached, kneeling on one knee before Funan.
"Hokage-sama, Mifune has fallen in battle!"
"Casualties?"
"Mifune and all five thousand samurai perished. Thirteen thousand White Zetsu were killed. Thirty-four reanimated shinobi were sealed."
Funan nodded slightly. "Acceptable losses."
He felt no sorrow for Mifune’s death.
The man had stood against him too many times.
Even if Funan had wanted to spare him—Mifune didn’t deserve to live.
If he had survived, how would Funan justify it to the others?
If a traitor to Konoha was allowed to walk free, wouldn’t others start thinking they could get away with the same?
No.
That was a risk he couldn’t afford.
Sooner or later, something unimaginable was bound to happen.
Dying wasn’t so bad.
If his death could bring peace to the Land of Iron, then that was exactly what a true leader should do.
Funan looked at Yako and asked slowly, "Are the shinobi from each village in position?"
"They’re all set!" Yako responded immediately. "But honestly, a lot of them were useless. Itachi, Naoto, and I weeded them out, and in the end, we settled on forty thousand."
"You cut that many?"
"Yeah!" Yako said firmly. "We lost numbers, but we gained quality. Hokage-sama don’t forget—we have explosive tags. We don’t need a massive army. I’ve decided to split them into four battalions."
Konan had arrived in Konoha, bringing an enormous supply of explosive tags.
Konoha’s stockpile had finally reached the point where they were counting them in the trillions.
The looks on the faces of Konoha’s leadership when they saw Konan… priceless.
Funan gave a slight nod. "The enemy is closing in."
"Don’t worry!" Yako assured him. "After getting hit by the samurai, they’ll need time to regroup. Now’s the perfect time to send in those guys."
"Even if we throw the suicide squads into battle, how much time will that really buy us?" Funan shook his head, his voice indifferent. "Forget it. I’ll handle this myself. Let’s give them a surprise they won’t forget."
"Oh?" Yako’s curiosity was piqued. She smirked. "Care to give me a hint? I’m starting to feel bad for them."
"Sure," Funan whispered something into Yako’s ear.
"Wait, what?! No way!" Yako’s eyes widened in shock.
That’s the kind of move nobody would ever think of.
And even if they did, they wouldn’t have the guts to pull it off.
…
Obito’s face twisted in rage, his entire presence radiating fury.
He wanted blood.
No— He wanted to take a sword and hack Uchiha Funan into pieces.
Was this some kind of sick joke?
The White Zetsu army had lost nearly twenty thousand troops.
Konoha’s report claimed over ten thousand enemy casualties, but they weren’t counting the wounded.
A bunch of crippled shinobi—what good were they on the battlefield?
They’d just slow everything down!
And the worst part? The real battle hadn’t even started yet. They hadn’t even faced Konoha’s main forces, and they’d already taken losses this severe. How the hell were they supposed to keep fighting?
"How’s your research coming along?" Obito’s eyes locked onto Orochimaru, dark and menacing.
"Let’s just say… there’s been progress," Orochimaru sighed.
He had been working on strengthening Edo Tensei.
Some of the reanimated shinobi were starting to break free from his control.
Orochimaru had already decided—if things went south, he was out.
Obito knew it too, which is why he had no choice but to hand over all his research.
Among the documents were Uchiha Madara’s personal notes.
Studies on White Zetsu. Studies on Hashirama’s cells.
Even Orochimaru had to admit, the insights in those notes were opening up new possibilities.
Obito’s demand was simple.
Make the reanimated shinobi stronger. And make sure they obey.
It sounded simple. Pulling it off? Whole different story.
Even Orochimaru felt like his head was about to explode.
"...Maybe," Orochimaru hesitated, "maybe we should hold off on the attack for now?"
"No." Obito shut it down immediately. "Time is the only advantage we have. The longer we wait, the stronger Funan gets. Do you really think Uchiha Funan is just going to sit back and let us walk away?"
"When it comes to resources—we can’t compete."
"He already owns the entire shinobi world."
Let them go?
Not a chance.
Orochimaru wasn’t that stupid.
"How’s the ambush unit coming along?" he asked suddenly.
"They’re ready," Obito replied coolly. "Deidara and Sasori are leading the charge, backed by some Edo Tensei shinobi. More than enough to give Konoha’s forces a serious headache."
Against ordinary shinobi, this squad wouldn’t be much of a threat.
But with Deidara in the mix?
That changed everything.
The guy was a total maniac, convinced explosions were the highest form of art—and he had a talent for proving it.
Obito had given him extra resources, letting him crank out even more of his C-18 bombs.
Once those were dropped on Konoha…
The village wouldn’t even have time to think about preparing for war.
They’d be too busy digging themselves out of the rubble.
"Heh… You guys look stressed." A sharp voice cut through the air.
"Who’s there?" Obito’s gaze turned ice-cold.
A shadowy figure stepped forward.
"Hiruko?" Orochimaru grinned. "We’re old acquaintances, aren’t we? Since I joined Akatsuki—no, since I came back—you haven’t even said hello. That’s kind of rude."
"Do I need to?" Hiruko shot him a sideways glance, voice dripping with mockery. "Besides, aren’t you busy wasting time on all those useless experiments?"
Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed.
Useless?
A slow, creeping bloodlust filled the air.
Obito, standing off to the side, didn’t react.
If Orochimaru killed Hiruko right here, right now? That was none of his concern.
To be honest, Obito didn’t even think the guy was qualified to be in Akatsuki.
Sure, his research on Kekkei Genkai was impressive, but that was about it.
[Bang!]
A massive fist came crashing down from above, slamming straight into Orochimaru.
[Poof!]
A cloud of white smoke erupted.
Orochimaru reappeared a few feet away, eyes sharp as he assessed the attack.
The fist belonged to a monster.
Easily over thirty meters tall, pure muscle from head to toe.
Its face was twisted into a grotesque snarl, and a low, guttural growl rumbled from its throat as it locked onto Orochimaru.
"What the hell is that?" Obito frowned. He could feel raw power radiating from the thing.
"This… is my research." Hiruko let out a deep, satisfied chuckle. "Well? What do you think?"
Obito didn’t even hesitate. "Not bad. Pretty strong. But…"
"Oh, there’s not just one."
Obito’s expression darkened. "How many?"
"For now? Thirty. Is that enough?"
Obito stiffened. "What?"
“How many?” Orochimaru was stunned. “How the hell do you have so many monsters?”
He looked up at the creature before him.
It wasn’t weak—though it couldn’t compare to Manda, it was still strong enough to take on a three-headed serpent.
“This is my research!” Hiruko declared proudly. “Orochimaru, you’re not the only genius here. When it comes to Kekkei Genkai, I’m leagues ahead of you!”
His eyes gleamed with excitement, his expression brimming with confidence.
Obito and Orochimaru exchanged a glance, both silently acknowledging how bizarre this was.
How should they put it…?
Right now, Hiruko was like a kid desperate for an adult’s validation.
Obito turned to Orochimaru and asked— “What the hell did you do to him?”
“Nothing at all. Don’t pin this on me,” Orochimaru replied.
“In that case,” Obito’s voice dropped to a commanding tone, “you’re coming with us to attack Konoha.”
“Fine!” Hiruko sneered. “I’ll make sure you witness the full extent of my power!”
Obito then turned his gaze to Orochimaru. “Where’s Uchiha Madara?”
“He’ll show up when the time is right,” Orochimaru answered vaguely.
Truth be told, even he wasn’t sure.
Orochimaru sighed inwardly.
The gap between him and Madara was just too massive. One wrong move, and he’d be dead before he even realized it.
Obito’s gaze sharpened as he locked eyes with Orochimaru. “Don’t let me down. Otherwise…”
“Heh.” Orochimaru chuckled coldly. “Otherwise, what?”
“Yeah,” Hiruko scoffed. “We’re not Pain—you’re not gonna manipulate us.”
Obito said nothing. Instead, he suddenly crushed his mask with his hand, revealing his other eye.
Orochimaru and Hiruko broke into a cold sweat.
The Rinnegan.
Obito’s other eye was a Rinnegan.
“You… you transplanted Pain’s Rinnegan?” Orochimaru’s voice wavered, a rare note of shock slipping through. “You lunatic… How is that even possible?”
He had considered getting his hands on the Rinnegan before.
Obito had even let him examine it once.
But the sheer power contained within that eye had nearly shattered his mind.
That was when he truly understood how vast the difference between him and Pain was.
But Obito?
How the hell did he transplant the Rinnegan and survive it?
“Why wouldn’t it be possible?” Obito smirked. “Just because you couldn’t handle it doesn’t mean I couldn’t.”
As he spoke—Six figures materialized behind him.
Orochimaru and Hiruko went completely silent as they took in the sight before them.
Are you kidding me…?
He even has his own Six Paths of Pain?
“Any objections?” Obito asked calmly.
“…None.”
Both Orochimaru and Hiruko immediately adjusted their attitudes, suddenly much more agreeable.
“If you do, feel free to speak up,” Obito added. “I’m always open to reasonable suggestions.”
Son of a—Of all the people to imitate, you just had to copy Uchiha Fūnan?
Orochimaru and Hiruko cursed him simultaneously in their minds.
“Hmph.” Obito snorted and turned to leave.
But deep inside—Damn, that felt good.
No wonder Uchiha Fūnan always talked like that.
Acting like this was seriously satisfying.
The best thing was watching you seethe in silence, too afraid to speak up.
That expression—priceless.
