Sarutobi Nichio's words fell like a thunderbolt in the ears of the victim's family.
"Patriarch Nichio… what… what did you say…?"
The girl's father trembled, tears already run dry. His face looked blank and numb.
But Nichio had no intention of acknowledging the man. His gaze remained fixed on his son.
"You didn't do it on purpose. You thought there was just a rabbit in the brush, and you wanted to test your 'Great Fireball' jutsu.
"So, it was an accidental killing—
"Right?!"
Even a fool like Sarutobi Jirō realized what his father meant. He nodded frantically, practically screaming:
"Yes, yes! Father, your son had no idea; it was just an accident!"
Nichio nodded.
"I see…
"A tragic accident, then.
"Sigh… such a heartbreaking event."
He turned around, gripping the father's hands in what looked like sympathy but felt more like a vise. The man couldn't move, and pain shot through his wrists.
"As a fellow father, I share your grief. Rest assured, even if it was an accident and unintended, we will make things right! I will see to it that this brat is properly disciplined—he will pay a price and come to understand the gravity of his actions.
"As for your daughter… the dead cannot be brought back… but if you name your price, I will do everything in my power to compensate you."
The father's expression froze in shock, and the pain in his hands left him speechless.
"You… you people…"
At that moment, the elderly grandmother, still sprawled on the ground, desperately crawled forward.
"You monsters! We don't want compensation. No amount of money can bring my granddaughter back! I… we want that wretched brat to follow her to the grave!"
Her clothes were ragged, eyes brimming with grief and despair. She clung to Nichio's pant leg, her white hair wild and tangled like weeds.
Nichio's brow furrowed. A flash of murderous intent flickered in his eyes before he quickly regained his composure.
He heaved a sigh. "Grandma, I understand your feelings. However—
"An eye for an eye leaves no end to the cycle of hatred. Besides, Jirō's actions were accidental; he never meant to harm your granddaughter.
"Rest assured, he will be punished accordingly. But you cannot resort to vigilante justice just because you're angry. If everyone did that, our society would descend into chaos. Wouldn't you agree?"
The onlookers erupted into noisy debate. But the old woman's heart-wrenching cries still pierced the air:
"Is this because you're shinobi and we're just ordinary villagers? Does that mean we have to endure this kind of injustice?
"Is it because you're the Patriarch, and that beast is your son, while we're powerless nobodies? So you can kill without consequences?!
"How…
"How is this right?"
She looked to them, desperate for an answer, but none came. Only silence.
In that stillness, Sarutobi Jirō allowed himself a barely perceptible smirk.
…
"Not right!"
In the deathly hush, a sudden flash of steel tore through the air—
Cutting across the sea of onlookers, piercing their indifference, slicing through the injustice.
An instant later, a blade arced through the sky, leaving a cold glint in its wake.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed outward. A head rolled across the ground in an instant.
And the sword that had just cut it off? Not a drop of blood stained its surface.
A figure now stood beside Sarutobi Nichio, silent as stone.
Falling at his feet was Sarutobi Jirō's severed head, rolling lifelessly on the ground—stomped underfoot by Uchiha Chiyu.
Jirō's headless body spewed a fountain of blood from the gaping neck, as though it were flames leaping skyward, then like ash settling on barren earth.
"Aaaaagh!"
No one knew who screamed first, shattering the silence. Then the entire crowd erupted in pandemonium, gasping and recoiling in horror, as though they had just witnessed a nightmare.
Nichio stood in stunned disbelief, slowly turning to the man who had appeared out of nowhere, and then his eyes dropped to the head crushed beneath that man's foot… and the body, now collapsing onto the ground with a dull thud.
His pupils constricted. A torrent of dread, fury, sorrow, and despair overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.
"You…
"What have you done?!"
Nichio let out a howl unlike anything he'd ever voiced before.
But Chiyu didn't spare him a glance.
"Carrying out my duty."
He pushed his foot more firmly onto the fallen head, then strode forward to help the gray-haired grandmother to her feet, nodding in her direction.
The old woman trembled violently, but one look at the severed head filled her heart with grim satisfaction.
"Y-you…
"Who… who are you?!"
"Konoha Police Force, Squad Captain—Uchiha Chiyu."
That name rippled through the crowd, triggering an immediate stir. Everyone knew of him by reputation—this ruthless, extreme officer of the Police Force, infamous for his decisive, bloody methods. Yet never had his deeds felt so… vindicating.
In that moment, every shinobi and villager present shared a single thought—
Could it be that all along, he was the only one who'd been right?
No one voiced it aloud.
"You… you beast!"
Sarutobi Nichio at last regained his composure, overcome by anguish and rage. He ripped out his sword and lunged furiously at Chiyu's back.
"Look out, Lord Chiyu!" someone couldn't help but shout.
Without turning around, Chiyu simply reversed his blade to block.
Clang!
Sparks flew as the two swords collided. Cold steel screeched, scattering arcs of brilliance.
"I—I'll kill you!" Nichio screamed, utterly losing control.
But Chiyu remained calm, cold, and unmoved.
"Interfering with police duties and assaulting a police officer…
"By law, you can be executed on the spot."
With that, Chiyu's chakra flared. He slammed his sword downward, knocking Nichio's blade aside. Swiftly, he followed up with a lethal strike aimed at Nichio's throat.
Nichio, as head of the Sarutobi clan, wasn't some weakling. In that instant, he sprang backward, bringing his sword up to block Chiyu's vicious blow—but he was still forced several meters away.
As he retreated, his hands flew into seals. The moment his feet touched the ground, he unleashed a powerful jutsu:
"Fire Release: Great Fireball!"
Instantly, a violent torrent of flame roared from his mouth, blotting out the sky, a raging inferno that threatened to reduce Chiyu to ashes.
But Chiyu's reaction was even quicker—he formed his own seals and unleashed a counter-jutsu:
"Fire Release: Dragon Fire Technique!"
Two raging fires collided, each a roaring dragon of flame. They snarled and clawed at each other, their searing heat charring the air and scorching the earth. For a moment, they seemed evenly matched.
"Stop this!"
A cold yet authoritative voice rang out from a distance.
The crowd parted automatically, bowing their heads in respect as a figure slowly made his way forward, each step weighty and deliberate.
It was the Third Hokage of Konoha… Sarutobi Hiruzen.
Chiyu spared him a glance, only to tighten his grip on his sword.
At that very moment, he heard the prompt sound in his mind:
Ding!
[You've successfully taught Sarutobi Jirō to abandon his evil ways. Good deed accomplished! +30 Virtue Points!]