Capítulo 83: 83. No
"Adult matters are not for kids to meddle in."
Uchiha Gin gave Izuna a light tap on the head as he said this with a stern expression. Truth be told, he wasn't sure how long he'd have to take care of this brat; the worst-case scenario would be raising the kid until he himself passed away.
Sitting at the dining table, Senju Itama heard Uchiha Gin's remark but didn't respond with his usual banter. Instead, he obediently stood up and brought two sets of bowls and chopsticks from the kitchen, setting them on the table.
"Alright, stop pouting and eat," Uchiha Gin said with a sigh, nudging his eldest cousin. Uchiha Madara, frowning, reluctantly gave in and pulled out a chair in the corner to sit.
"Cousin, eat more!" Gin said, placing a piece of tofu into Madara's bowl. Looking up curiously, he asked, "Are you still fighting a war?"
"Yes, the Senju Clan received reinforcements from the Uzumaki Clan, so the battlefront is in a stalemate," Madara replied after carefully blowing on the hot tofu before swallowing it.
"Uzumaki Clan?"
Gin's distant memories resurfaced, and he recalled the image of a burly yet handsome figure. So the Uzumaki Clan had joined the fray this early? He wondered how Mito was doing.
"Yes, the leader of their reinforcements is the young clan head, Uzumaki Hanamichi. He's strong in taijutsu and skilled in sealing techniques. My brother fought him but couldn't gain the upper hand."
Izuna, who had been staring down Itama across the table, turned his head to Gin and added, "That guy's weird though. Every time he meets one of us Uchiha, he always asks a strange question."
"What question?" Gin asked curiously. Back when he encountered Hanamichi, the guy hadn't had this odd habit.
"He asks, 'Do you know an Uchiha with curly hair?' Haha, isn't that strange?" Izuna laughed, pounding the table with amusement.
"Haha, yes, very strange," Gin awkwardly chuckled along, then quickly lowered his head, hiding his thoughts and reputation.
Stare "-_-" came from Itama beside him.
"Cousin, what's that mark on your forehead? It looks cool!" Izuna, in the throes of teenage rebelliousness, noticed the diamond-shaped mark on Gin's forehead and exclaimed with admiration. "It's like a third eye! Can you give me one too?"
"I'll show you someday, maybe I'll even give you some stylish shrimp lines while I'm at it." Gin deflected with a dry smile.
"By the way, why did you two come back so soon? Last time, you were at war for six months. It's barely been a month since you left. What happened?"
Gin swiftly changed the topic, looking at his cousins.
"Senju Butsuma is dead."
Madara put down his chopsticks, his gaze fixed on Itama, who was silently eating. He dropped the bombshell with calm resolve.
Snap!
Itama's chopsticks broke in his hands, yet he kept his head down as if nothing had happened.
"These chopsticks are poor quality. Go grab another pair," Gin quickly said, noticing the tears streaming down the boy's cheeks. It was an excuse to give him some space to process the news alone.
Itama stood up and walked toward the kitchen, his thin frame trembling ever so slightly.
"Was that necessary?" Gin sighed, shaking his head at Madara, the instigator.
"I spared his life only because of you, cousin. But if we let him continue living peacefully, how can the souls of our fallen clan members rest?"
Madara's face grew cold again. He had never agreed with how lenient Gin was toward this last surviving member of the Senju.
"War never starts because of one person's desires, nor does it end with the death of a single individual." Gin gazed at Madara, his drooping eyes filled with a tired wisdom.
"The life or death of a child won't alter the course of war. In a world where people can't understand each other, conflict will always exist."
After that, Madara fell silent, lost in thought over his cousin's words.
Gin sighed inwardly—his eldest cousin was becoming harder to manipulate with every passing day. He was running out of his trademark cynical wisdom to feed him.
After the meal, still deep in thought, Madara dragged an unwilling Izuna home, leaving Gin alone to clean up.
"Those brats have changed. They used to help me clean up, now they bolt faster than rabbits," Gin muttered as he tidied up.
When he finished, Gin approached Itama's door and knocked softly. After a moment of silence, he sighed and said through the door, "Don't do anything rash, kid."
Creak
The door opened, revealing Itama with swollen, tear-streaked eyes. His frail form looked pitiful, and he sniffled as he asked, "When can I go home?"
"After the war ends," Gin replied. Seeing the boy in such a fragile state, his heart softened for a moment. No! I can't let this brat's sorrow mess with my head! Gin shook the strange thought from his mind, giving Itama a firm answer.
"My father is dead. You have no reason to keep me anymore. Just kill me," Itama said with a bitter smile. The war between their clans had raged for over a thousand years with no end in sight. Gin's promise was nothing but a hollow lie.
Thud!
Gin flicked Itama on the forehead, his voice calm but firm, "You brat! After all these years, haven't you learned anything about having a positive attitude? All you've picked up is this emo nonsense."
Gin quickly calculated the time in his head before saying, "The war will be over soon. I'll send you home, I promise. Give it about ten years."
Itama pouted, still covering his forehead where Gin had flicked him. He'd heard these empty promises countless times before. To him, it was just another attempt to placate a child.
"Didn't you say you were meeting someone today? Take this money and buy whatever you want," Gin said, handing Itama a wad of cash, hoping it would distract the boy from his grief.
After successfully calming the emo brat, Gin felt utterly exhausted. He sighed at his predicament—he was practically raising this kid like a son, carrying the burdens of fatherhood without even being married.
Back in his room, Gin lay down on his bed, thinking that only a good night's sleep could ease his weariness. Just as he was about to drift off, a familiar sound chimed in his head, accompanied by a faint glow.
"Ding! The system detects that the host has reached thirty years of age. System activation imminent. Do you confirm activation?"
Gin jolted awake, startled by the sudden voice in his head. Despite his surprise, he didn't rush to accept.
Thinking back to when he had first transmigrated and recklessly chosen "yes," he remembered how the half-baked system's missions had nearly ruined him. It was an ancient system from a bygone era, with penalties like "obliteration" at the drop of a hat. It had kept him on edge for years.
Now, with another chance to choose, Gin wasn't about to fall into that trap again.
"No! No! No!!!"
This time, he wouldn't let the system mess with him.
"Host's strong negative sentiment detected. System entering cooldown. Complete tasks to unlock further. During the cooldown, host's age will remain frozen at thirty."
What?!
Was there really such a sweet deal?
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder