Uchiha Kei: Game Dev in the Shinobi World

In the shadows of the shinobi world, the great founder and ruler of the Foundation, the so-called "Pot King of Konoha," Shimura Danzō, was reading intelligence reports. His lone eye darkened with gloom as anxiety and even fear took root in his heart.

The reason? The last of the Legendary Sannin—Jiraiya, the voice of the liberal faction—had now, like the other two, been taken in by the evil Uchiha Kei and become his ally.

All three of the Sannin, representing the core of Konoha's middle generation, had been deceived and swayed by Uchiha Kei. Worse yet, Namikaze Minato, a representative of the younger generation, was Kei's close friend and deeply influenced by him.

Under these circumstances, the major shinobi clans of Konoha, as well as the village leadership led by Hiruzen Sarutobi, were all completely fooled by Kei's so-called talent and harmless demeanor. They had let their guard down and allowed Konoha's development to proceed entirely according to Kei's design.

In just a few short months, Konoha had changed so drastically that Danzō could no longer comprehend it. And it terrified him.

He felt utterly betrayed. His old comrades had all chosen to cooperate with what he viewed as the innately evil Uchiha, abandoning their master's ideals. It left him with an overwhelming sense of isolation.

It was as if he were about to be discarded by history itself—a man cast aside by all that was once familiar. An intense unease clouded his mind, and he felt directionless in the face of an ever-changing world.

If Danzō were from Earth—say, from China—he might've felt this even more profoundly. He'd find many fellow elderly people who also felt left behind by the times.

When eras shift drastically, it really does feel like a single misstep will leave you abandoned by history.

Especially if, deep down, you reject everything and everyone that represents change—then the sense of abandonment becomes even more unbearable.

And yet, Danzō wasn't someone incapable of adapting. In canon, his lust for Hashirama's cells, his covetousness for the Sharingan, and the vile tricks he employed to seize the Hokage seat all showed that he was shrewd and pragmatic.

But if one looks deeper into Danzō's methods, it becomes clear that all his schemes were just repackaged tactics from the Warring States Era—tactics wrapped in a facade labeled "for the good of Konoha."

Danzō wasn't like Hiruzen or Tobirama, who embraced the new era, nor like Hashirama, who founded it. He was merely dragging others down with him into the darkness of a bygone time.

Even now, as he dabbled in genjutsu game systems, he never truly intended to embrace this new age. He only studied genjutsu games in hopes of dismantling them from within.

His plan? Great. His execution? Abstract. The result? He gave himself hypertension and nearly suffered a stroke from rage.

Since the last incident where the game sent him to the hospital, Danzō had avoided genjutsu games entirely. He kept his distance, vowing never to let the evil Uchiha exploit his precious "Will of Root."

To be fair, Danzō's resolve against the Uchiha was solid. The man was utterly unyielding. Once he was defeated, he'd retreat, regroup, and try again—very much the mindset of a ruthless schemer.

Had his opponent been anyone else, Danzō would have already triumphed, just as he had with the original Uchiha clan.

Unfortunately, this time he faced Uchiha Kei—an outlier, complete with cheats—and was now caught in a corner. Half a month ago, Danzō tried to move against Uchiha Obito, but despite multiple attempts, he never found the right opportunity. Worse, his Root operatives were discovered and thrashed by the Uchiha.

This enraged Danzō. In the past, if something like this happened, he could always confide in his close friend Hiruzen, who would comfort him and help him restore his standing.

Now? Hiruzen told him to stop picking fights with the Uchiha. He said they were a vital part of Konoha, irreplaceable even, and urged Danzō to stop judging them through outdated lenses.

Even when he turned to the other two members of Konoha's "F4," and even Akimichi Torifu in retirement, the response was the same: stop. No one supported Danzō anymore. Everyone was against him. He felt like the whole world had turned its back on him—and so had his Root.

What upset Danzō most was that even his loyal subordinates were now under immense psychological strain.

Why? Because of a game called "Escape."

In that game, the organization named "Gen" had become reviled and cursed by countless players, who saw it as the embodiment of evil.

Danzō didn't hear any of that, locked away in his Root chambers. But his subordinates did. They were tasked with playing the genjutsu game, and they saw everything.

"Gen"… wasn't that just "Root?"

Though the game didn't outright name names, the organization's actions mirrored those of Root so perfectly that it was impossible to ignore. Switch a few details, and it *was* Root.

In the game, "Gen" claimed to act for peace and the future of the shinobi world. Just like Root claimed to do for Konoha.

"Gen" conducted horrific human experiments—so did Root.

"Gen" left a trail of victims—so did Root.

To make matters worse, the game's protagonist clearly evoked the Indra lineage, mirroring the real-world Uchiha clan. Root members felt the connection instinctively.

And so, when they saw "themselves" hated by the world, it hit them hard. Spiritually. Psychologically.

Danzō may have trained his operatives to be cold, emotionless tools, but the truth? Many still had emotions. Some were deeply sensitive.

Take, for instance, the so-called "priestess"—Yakushi Nono, or Sai's brother, or even others like Kabuto, Kakashi, and Orochimaru who had once been part of Root. Clearly, Danzō's dehumanizing methods didn't work quite as planned.

Most Root members had been indoctrinated under the belief they were "protecting Konoha from the shadows." That belief was the root of their loyalty. They endured the darkness to shield the light.

Danzō's brand of brainwashing was more like "self-convincing." And deep down, he didn't trust it either. That's why he created the Tongue Cursing Seal—to prevent betrayal.

Now, faced with universal loathing, could Root members truly stay calm?

Not likely. Many were already unraveling. One of them was Yakushi Nono—not even twenty—who had joined Root under the belief that she was safeguarding Konoha from the shadows. Now, her mindset had collapsed.

She wanted to quit Root. She planned to return to the Konoha Orphanage and take over as the new director.

After all, when you compare the plot of "Escape" with Root's reality, the contradictions shake your foundations. Public opinion had turned toxic. Doubts festered toward themselves, Root, and Danzō.

In many ways, Root's current plight resembled that of the Uchiha clan post-Nine Tails Incident—an entire group feeling persecuted by the world, as if every voice were accusing them of wrongdoing.

The difference? The Uchiha were united, stubborn, extreme. They chose to rebel.

Root, though loyal, wasn't nearly as fanatical. Its members came from various clans and civilians, bound by Danzō's ideals. But now that those ideals were collapsing, their morale faltered.

Still, Root wasn't so easily destroyed. Danzō had spent years building it. His indoctrination hadn't been for nothing. Even if many were shaken, a number of diehards remained—and as long as they did, the foundation wouldn't crumble.

Danzō saw all this. But what could he do? Aside from hammering home the importance of the "Will of Root" to his subordinates, there was little else.

Only now did he fully grasp the terrifying power of the game's subtle mockery.

It wasn't just insulting him and Root—it was slowly poisoning the very foundations.

After all, Root members were still Konoha shinobi. They had followed Danzō into the darkness because they believed in his cause.

Once that core belief was broken, Root wouldn't need an external threat. It would implode from within.

Compared to that, spreading rumors was child's play. This was real psychological warfare. Danzō was horrified—and begrudgingly impressed. Kei was too insidious.

And if Kei heard Danzō's complaints? He'd probably just smirk and say, "You think *that* was malicious? That's just a joke."

Compared to the ideological warfare faced by China back on Earth, Root's experience wasn't even in the same league. If they were shaken by this, it only proved just how brittle they'd become.

Danzō didn't understand that. All he knew was that if this continued, Root would collapse.

To prevent this disaster, he resolved to act first. Before Kei or the Uchiha could make their next move, he'd strike.

He'd take Uchiha Obito—no matter what!

And tomorrow morning… he would have his chance.

He had to seize this one opportunity to capture Obito and use him against the Uchiha clan.

Meanwhile, deep in Uchiha Madara's hideout…

He finally received what he wanted.

As he stared at the bizarre food and black beverage unsealed from the scroll, Madara spoke in a low voice:

"So this… is the so-called 'hamburger and cola'?"

Beside him, the Zetsu responsible for stealing the scrolls from the Uchiha, nodded eagerly.

"Yes, Madara-sama. These are special foods provided by Uchiha Kei to the clan elders. He gave them quite a lot. They stored it in sealing scrolls—and White Zetsu managed to snag one!"