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Tsunade stood frozen, struggling to process what she was seeing. Madara Uchiha—a legend from the Warring States Period—was alive.
Madara ignored her shock, his gaze fixed solely on Shin.
“Since you knew I was here, you still dared to show yourself?”
He rose slowly, his voice deep and commanding. Behind him, the Gedo Statue loomed, its gaunt, skeletal form exuding a strange vitality—like a withered idol that somehow still pulsed with life.
Shin’s eyes flicked toward the statue.
Ugly. But undeniably powerful.
“Madara Uchiha, what are you implying?” Shin asked dryly. “Think I’m afraid of some old rat lurking underground?”
His words were laced with open disdain. Though Madara’s face remained unreadable, Shin could feel the irritation simmering beneath.
Sure enough, Tobi Zetsu flailed his arms in exaggerated alarm.
“Talking like that to Madara-sama? I can already see your tombstone. I’ll be sure to burn incense for you next year!”
Tsunade edged closer to Shin, whispering cautiously:
“Are you sure you can handle him?”
Shin merely shrugged.
“Relax. He’s weaker than the Ōtsutsuki I killed.”
And it was true. In his current state, Madara wasn’t even close to Ōtsutsuki Ryūsuke. Unless he was in his prime with the Rinnegan, he couldn’t compare.
“That thing behind him is unsettling…” Konan murmured, inching closer to Shin.
“Don’t worry,” Shin reassured her, gently ruffling her blue-violet hair. “Right now, it’s just a hollow shell.”
After all, the Gedo Statue could only be controlled by the Rinnegan—or, in Shin’s case, his Rinne Tenseigan.
Shin turned his attention back to Madara.
“Madara Uchiha, you had someone spy on me. Why? Let’s skip the games and be direct.”
With a casual wave of his hand, Wood Release surged to life, forming several wooden chairs for Tsunade, Kushina, Mikoto, and Konan.
Madara’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Wood Release.
This wasn’t in the White Zetsu’s reports.
As far as Madara knew, Shin possessed Ice Release, Formidable Taijutsu, and the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan—but not Hashirama’s legendary power.
Shin noticed Madara’s reaction and smirked.
“Surprised to see your old rival’s technique? Oh, and by the way—” Shin’s grin widened. “I can use True Several Thousand Hands too. If you want to relive that experience, just say the word.”
A flicker of irritation crossed Madara’s face.
The True Several Thousand Hands technique brought back unpleasant memories—memories of Hashirama Senju flattening both him and the Nine-Tails like an insect under a boot.
Even after all these years, that battle still haunted him.
“What’s with the silent treatment? I asked why you’ve been spying on me.”
Shin’s voice turned sharp. A sudden wave of killing intent surged from him, aimed directly at Madara.
Tobi Zetsu, who had been about to speak again, froze, his body locking up. Even a creature like him could feel the suffocating weight of Shin’s bloodlust.
Madara’s expression darkened.
Shin’s killing intent was on par with his own—something that few, if any, had ever achieved.
“Uzumaki Shin, I thought I was already giving you due attention,” Madara murmured, “but it seems I still underestimated you.”
At first, he hadn’t taken the so-called ‘Reaper of the Shinobi World’ seriously. But standing before Shin now, he felt it.
A real, visceral sense of impending death.
Even Hashirama had never made him feel quite like this.
Of course, that didn’t mean Shin was stronger than Hashirama. But Madara himself was far from his prime—old, incomplete, and missing his real eyes.
Shin, however—had Limitless Potential.
“I have no interest in a long conversation,” Shin said bluntly. “This place of yours is dark and damp, and I find it rather disgusting.”
He glanced around with mild disgust.
“Seriously, how do you even live here?”
Madara didn’t respond.
“Anyway—” Shin rested a hand on his hip. “You must have plenty of jutsu tucked away in that old head of yours. Be a good senior and hand them over.”
His real interest lay in Yin–Yang Release, Six Paths Senjutsu, and the countless other abilities Madara had dabbled in.
Madara’s brow furrowed slightly before he spoke.
“You want my jutsu? That comes with a price.”
“A price, huh? How about your life?” Shin replied with a cold smile.
A deadly silence filled the underground cavern.
Madara’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
For a moment, the weight of his killing intent pressed down on Shin like a suffocating tide.
“You brat…” Madara’s voice was low, laced with menace.
“Madara Uchiha—” Shin’s smirk faded, his aura flaring in response, overpowering Madara’s killing intent in an instant.
Even Tobi Zetsu took an unconscious step back.
“Hand over what I want—or I’ll send you straight to meet the Sage of Six Paths.”
Madara’s jaw clenched.
In his current state, Madara was hardly the near-invincible Six Paths–level foe he might become in the future. Shin knew this all too well.
“You’re the first to threaten me like this,” Madara muttered, fury roiling inside him.
“In that case,” Shin said, “it’s my privilege.”
He noted Madara’s growing anger but wasn’t worried. Madara wouldn’t risk a life-or-death fight now. His plan remained incomplete, and his frail body wouldn’t withstand a drawn-out battle.
“Madara Uchiha, I’m younger and a lot less patient,” Shin continued. “So make your choice soon, or I’ll make it for you.”
He drew a kunai and casually flipped it between his fingers. Madara’s expression turned even more dangerous—Shin was openly threatening him in a way he’d never experienced before.
Pride told him to kill Shin, but logic reminded him his current body couldn’t survive that. Win or lose, he would likely perish afterward.
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