I Am Fugaku Uchiha

Komeko and Kenji exchanged deadpan looks as they observed Fugaku, their curiosity piqued.

How could he throw kunai so effortlessly? Wasn't he supposed to be a samurai?

Fugaku, feeling a bit awkward, admitted, "I'm not used to this, you know?"

He had a kunai scroll tucked in his sleeve, but he found it troublesome to retrieve. Instead, he reached for the ones in his backpack.

Jiraiya, with a mischievous grin, handed Fugaku some kunai, saying, "Here, take these; it costs five thousand ryo! It's on me this time!"

He whispered a joke to Fugaku, who looked at him with slight amusement but said nothing. Fugaku accepted the six kunai and patiently waited for his opportune moment.

In this world, ninja equipment always came at a high price—three hundred ryo for a shuriken, eight hundred ryo for a detonation charm. Such tools were usually reused after a battle.

However, this time, there was no chance for reuse.

With the searchlight creating a gap, Fugaku dashed forward, leaped into the air, and executed a flawless spin.

In one swift motion, he hurled three kunai with a single hand, each finding its target.

Mui, stationed on higher ground, surveyed the darkness where the guard's searchlight once blazed. A sly smirk played on his lips. "I never expected them to have backup, but if they dare to rescue her, I'll craft a night for them to remember!"

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"Kenji, what’s wrong?" Fugaku asked curiously, seeing the deep furrow on Kenji's brow.

Kenji's confusion deepened. "It claimed my mother was here in the afternoon!"

He gestured towards a small creature, a mouse, which Fugaku immediately recognized.

"What does your mother look like? Do you have any pictures or something?" Fugaku inquired, concern etched on his face.

Komeko nodded and handed him a portrait. “I don’t have a photo, but I have this portrait. I drew it myself when I was in Grass Village."

Fugaku took the portrait. After a moment, he spoke with a measured assurance, "I see. I’ll go in and take a look. Jiraiya, please protect them!"

Without waiting for Jiraiya’s reply, Fugaku vanished upstairs with a swift, almost imperceptible movement.

Jiraiya observed Fugaku's sudden departure, rubbing his chin in contemplation, wondering what he was up to.

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The prison boasted multiple basement levels, each shrouded in secrecy.

Fugaku, under the cloak of the night, skillfully infiltrated the second floor. His objective lay in the depths of the prison on the lowest level.

Navigating through the dark and silent hallway, he moved with the stealth of a shadow.

A sudden voice pierced the quiet, echoing through the corridor. "You can’t escape from here, as long as you have the Lord’s mark on you! Tell us the truth! Now!"

Fugaku's brow furrowed. He pressed himself further into the shadows, curious about the source of the commotion.

Peeking through a slightly ajar door, he witnessed a scene unfolding—a youth wearing sunglasses, flanked by three guards, aggressively interrogating a prisoner.

Silently tailing them, Fugaku found himself in a bright and spacious area. With fewer guards around, he felt a brief respite from the need for stealth. The corners of his lips curled into a smirk, and he executed a swift hand seal.

A puff of white smoke materialized into a shadow clone beside him, dressed like a samurai. While lacking the prowess of Uchiha-style ninjutsu, this technique still served its purpose.

As the clone darted in a different direction, drawing attention with its samurai attire, guards shouted in alarm, demanding to know who was there.

"Stop! Don’t run!"

They commanded, their focus now on the enigmatic samurai figure.

Fugaku seized the opportunity, slipping away unnoticed into the depths of the basement.

Meanwhile, the guards and the sunglass-wearing youth had just secured the prisoner in a cell when a dark figure flashed by. Sharp pain coursed through their necks, and their vision dimmed as they crumpled to the ground.

"A samurai...?"

"What the hell? Who is this guy?"

"He doesn’t look like a prisoner."

The unexpected appearance of a samurai left prisoners in shock. Questions hung in the air, swirling in the minds of those present. How had this mysterious figure become so formidable?

In a place guarded by numerous guards and with the prison warden's seal, it seemed difficult, even for a skilled shinobi, to breach its defenses. The air was thick with intrigue as the story unfolded.

Surveying the prisoners confined in the orderly rows of cells, Fugaku furrowed his brow. The distinctive red curse mark adorned each captive's body, resembling a peculiar seal—the Heavenly Prison Imprisonment Technique.

This intricate seal held the power to block their chakra, rendering them powerless.

In this realm of sealing techniques, the most enigmatic forces could be harnessed. The Chakra beast, the four elephants, the earth-shattering star—nothing was beyond the grasp of these mystical constraints.

Regardless of one's strength, once ensnared by a seal, they became mere puppets, devoid of their innate power.

He recalls Kaguya's fate as a formidable opponent sealed by the sage of the six paths, which lingered in Fugaku's mind.

Despite her immense strength, the sealing technique had rendered her powerless. The question lingered in Fugaku's mind: What about himself?

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He sighed, contemplating, "I’d better be careful. I don’t know if Seal will work on me."

"Hey, hey, hey! Brother… Can you let me out?" pleaded with a prisoner, regardless of whether Fugaku was a samurai or a ninja, hoping for freedom.

Fugaku paid no heed to the plea. Instead, he retrieved a portrait. "Have you seen this person?" he inquired.

The portrait depicted a middle-aged woman with a kind face, a testament to her past beauty.

The tall, bearded prisoner examined the image and grinned. "Of course, I know her, but I’ll only tell you if you let me out."

Fugaku responded casually, "I see," and passed the portrait to another prisoner in the cell. "Do you know her?"

The prisoner perceived Fugaku's actions as an attempt at intimidation. Sneering, he retorted, "You must be new here. Do you think I’m scared of you?"

"I know her. She was in a solitary cell, but two guards took her away not long ago. They said they were going to execute her in the square," disclosed a thin prisoner.

Acknowledging the information with a nod, Fugaku left, leaving behind a chorus of pleas and curses from the incarcerated.

"Hey, hey, won’t you let us out?"

"Damn boy…"

The thin prisoner remarked, "Did you want to get out here? What a bunch of fools! What good would it do to let you out? Do you think you can escape?"

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