"Lord Kei, your Sharingan... it's actually—"

Uchiha Jiri's eyes widened in disbelief. Her own Sharingan activated instinctively—three tomoe, perfectly shaped and precise. This was the final stage of a regular Sharingan, one forged through relentless battle and growth. In her case, it had taken until the age of sixteen to achieve it.

Her dojutsu radiated such powerful chakra that anyone without innate resistance to genjutsu or at least an equal dōjutsu would instinctively avoid eye contact. She had always considered herself a true genius among the Uchiha—perhaps not on par with monsters like Itachi Uchiha or Shisui Uchiha, but certainly among the fastest to reach the three-tomoe stage.

Even reincarnations of Indra's chakra like Sasuke Uchiha and Madara Uchiha had advanced through the Sharingan stages at a pace comparable to hers.

But in recent months, Jiri had come to abandon this proud notion.

Because she had witnessed two absolute monsters.

The first: Obito Uchiha. His Sharingan awakened as a pair of two-tomoe eyes. Then, with some mysterious intervention from Kei-dono, evolved into an odd 3+2 tomoe formation. And shortly after, a complete three-tomoe stage. Though rudimentary—with tomoe but lacking interconnecting lines—it was still monstrous.

The second: Uchiha Kei.

He was, by shinobi standards, already "older." Yet just a few months ago, he had only one tomoe. As her squad captain, Jiri had witnessed firsthand how his Sharingan evolved time and again—until today, it matched her own.

No doubt about it. Compared to Kei-dono, all the so-called prodigies—including herself—were just background noise. Simply following in his footsteps already required overwhelming talent.

And so, at that moment, Jiri felt the bitter sting of reality. Kei-dono's rapid evolution was undeniable—but why had he been stuck at one tomoe for so many years?

The answer, she thought, lay in pain and repression.

Jiri believed Kei-dono must've been bottling up his talents for years, buried beneath a mountain of neglect. A logistical officer in the shadows, scorned by the so-called "geniuses" of the clan.

He must have endured years of disdain, invisible yet seething beneath the surface.

And only now—after revealing his brilliance, after reshaping the Uchiha, the Hidden Leaf, and the entire shinobi world—did that buried potential finally erupt.

Yes... Kei-dono wasn't just brilliant. He was born a genius in both intellect and bloodline! It was the clan's rigidity and rot that held him back!

She imagined more and more, her expression turning conflicted. Sadness flickered in her eyes. If not for their difference in status—if she didn't worry it would be inappropriate—she would've thrown herself into his arms, offering the hidden comfort of her ample chest beneath her black uniform to ease his sorrows.

Kei was utterly confused.

He had no idea why Jiri's mood had shifted so dramatically after he activated the high-tier three-tomoe Sharingan.

Not one to stay silent when curious, he asked bluntly, "Jiri-senpai, is something wrong? Is there an issue with my Sharingan?"

Jiri snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head. "No, Kei-dono. I just... I realize now how hard it's been for you. Please rest assured—our Guard Corps will serve you with even greater dedication moving forward!"

"…?"

*Confused anime guy face intensifies.*

He tried to dig deeper, but Jiri just shook her head again and insisted everything was fine. She said the problem lay with herself and the Uchiha clan—not him. He should just continue as he was.

Her strange words only deepened Kei's confusion. He had no idea what she had imagined, so he simply assured her that he felt perfectly fine.

Unfortunately, that only made her look even more pained.

Seeing no point in continuing, Kei changed the subject and asked Jiri to help test the strength of his Sharingan.

Naturally, she agreed and activated hers for a direct eye-to-eye comparison.

Then Kei triggered his genjutsu—his infamous *Illusion Game* technique.

Until now, it worked on anyone below the three-tomoe stage. Today, he wanted to test whether it worked on equals.

Result: failure. Jiri's three-tomoe Sharingan nullified the effect entirely.

But that was just the first try. They repeated the test several times, with Jiri gradually suppressing her Sharingan's power.

Despite not possessing a Mangekyō, her mastery over her own dojutsu was already elite.

Eventually, Kei confirmed: his technique now worked on newly awakened three-tomoe users. It failed only when the opponent had a deeper mastery.

While that might sound unimpressive—it wasn't.

This was the Uchiha clan. The three-tomoe Sharingan was the pinnacle of dojutsu before Mangekyōs became known. For decades, this stage alone had made the Uchiha the most feared genjutsu masters in the shinobi world.

In fact, according to the original manga, the Uchiha were the undisputed masters of genjutsu. (Though the anime once introduced the Kurama clan, whose eye-based illusions were basically knock-offs of the Bleach zanpakutō system. Their genjutsu supposedly surpassed the Uchiha's… until the manga said otherwise. Classic anime filler.)

In Kei's world, however, the Kurama clan was real—but nowhere near as absurdly overpowered. Their techniques had flair, sure. But nothing that could rival Uchiha illusions, especially now.

And after the rise of Kei's *Illusion Game*, no one even dared mention the Kurama in the same breath.

Even they admitted it. Being compared to the Uchiha used to be their greatest honor.

After testing was complete, Kei had a clearer sense of his power level.

He had become a living *power level detector*. Anyone who could resist his genjutsu had to be among the best—the elite jōnin of each village.

And elite jōnin were the apex warriors of the shinobi world before the Boruto era. Even during the Fourth Great Ninja War, they performed admirably.

Resisting Kei's illusions now required you to be at that level—or have a natural immunity, like fellow Uchiha.

In short, *Illusion Game* had become the ultimate litmus test for strength.

And thanks to his system-gifted ability *Overclock All Night*, he could enter a no-cooldown spam mode, casting it over a wide area to instantly determine who among them was worthy.

If war broke out, he'd be the ultimate mook-clearing weapon.

Of course, the Hidden Leaf would never send him to the front lines—not unless the village itself was on the brink of collapse. Otherwise, Kei's value was far greater in the rear.

That's what made him a unique kind of shinobi: more valuable behind the scenes than on the battlefield.

After wrapping up the test, Kei sent Jiri to rest and entered the mental network to study the changes that came with his new LV4 upgrade.

The modules were impressive. With the level-up came an avalanche of new engineering blueprints—even real-world military tech, complete with dissectible schematics and absurdly detailed parts.

Hypothetically, if one could recreate each piece in reality, they could physically assemble these weapons from scratch.

The database was massive. Some of the modules were ridiculous.

But it made sense. The mental network came from a future tech world centuries beyond even the 21st century. However, the current module library was limited to early-21st-century tech due to system constraints.

Still, modern military engineering required elite machine tooling and specialized materials. Without those, even a perfect blueprint was meaningless.

Case in point: even something as "simple" as a good assault rifle needed precision engineering far beyond most countries' capabilities. And those who could produce them—like the AK—had already seen their designs leaked long ago.

In Kei's old world, it was still cheaper to buy than to build.

But this was the shinobi world.

Here, black-market tech and handmade superweapons were the norm.

If those military blueprints leaked, the chaos would be catastrophic. The very balance of power in the shinobi world could collapse.

A group of ninja with assault rifles and rocket launchers would absolutely destroy kunai-throwing enemies.

Luckily, all of this was under Kei's control.

And he already knew who to give it to.

Sasori had reached a certain level of mechanical knowledge—it was time to show him the terrifying elegance of modern warfare.

Once that was done, Kei turned his attention to what he had longed for: the Network function.

Thanks to the upgrade and data injection, he now knew that the LV4 mental network had full internet-building capabilities, complete with all necessary tech.

But… it was all based on Earth's 21st-century standards.

If he wanted it to work in the shinobi world, he'd have to adapt it. Entirely.

Not easy—but possible.

He had the skill. He had the experience. Now it was just a matter of time.

He had expected this, really. And every experiment so far had aligned with that expectation.

And the final piece of the puzzle… was Kurama.

Yes, the Nine-Tails itself.

As a pure chakra lifeform, the tailed beast made the perfect natural "base station."

He summoned Kurama to assist.

The fox was grumpy, of course. Ever since that public announcement, it had become addicted to *Ultimate Ninja Storm*, especially the mode where it turned into a busty kitsune girl and beat people up.

It now fully understood just how… effective that disguise was on the human psyche.