Uchiha Kei: Game Dev in the Shinobi World

"That strange cola—will it go into mass production? Hmph, this old man understands."

Beneath the Naka Shrine, Madara Uchiha nodded in acknowledgment.

His face was expressionless, but the flicker of anticipation in his aged eyes betrayed his interest.

He picked up the otaku meal set that the Zetsus had just "stolen"—though in truth, it had been directly provided by Uchiha Kei and only made to *look* like it was stolen. Black Zetsu never questioned this and had told Madara the same.

Of course, Madara didn't suspect anything either. And so, a scheme starting from the "bottom" had successfully deceived the highest-ranking member of their faction.

Hmph, the taste was as good as ever. The burger's meat was flavorful and fragrant, perfectly balanced with the crisp vegetables, giving it a satisfying complexity.

The item called "chips" had a crunchy texture and came in a variety of flavors—something Madara had never heard of before. Eating them lifted his mood and even seemed to smooth the flow of chakra, helping stabilize the mind and enhancing chakra refining and recovery.

Fried chicken bites? The golden color was similar to the meat inside the burger. First crispy, then tender—again, layered texture, savory aroma, and comforting flavor. It significantly reduced hunger, and the nutrients were richer than they appeared. It could easily replace soldier pills.

Small buns? Also delicious, with both sweet and salty varieties. Much like the fried chicken bites, they too could replace soldier pills. They didn't bring satiety, just dulled hunger—meaning one could keep eating if they still desired the pleasure of food.

These foods were addicting. One bite begged another. And since they didn't bring fullness, a glutton could gorge themselves until their stomach gave a warning of over-expansion.

Madara internally critiqued each food item as he leisurely sipped a large gulp of cola, reclining in his chair with uncharacteristic ease.

Normally, this posture would be unbearable for him. The life-support system attached to his back made leaning back quite painful.

But now, Madara had detached the system. After eating all that food and drinking two large cups of cola, he let out a satisfied burp. His vitality was slowly returning, and he no longer needed the support device.

So, for the first time in a long while, Madara removed the device—after all, it was never comfortable. In fact, it hurt quite a bit.

He felt that as long as he could eat these things every day—especially the cola—his ancient body could experience a second youth.

He'd never return to his prime, of course, but regaining the physique of a man in his fifties or sixties? That seemed possible.

Yes, being "young" in your fifties or sixties sounds absurd. Like saying a well-known web novel author slept with an eighty-year-old loli. Ridiculous. It'd make one think he was courting an elf.

But to a nearly hundred-year-old Madara, fifty or sixty *was* a return to youth.

To him, this was a full-on resurgence!

Of course, Madara knew his newfound health was "borrowed"—and temporary.

These foods only prolonged his vitality for a while. When their effects wore off, he'd inevitably return to decay.

Thus, he needed more—especially cola. It was the most effective. The others he could do without, but not the cola.

Previously, he feared the supply of these special otaku snacks was limited. If that were the case, he wouldn't hesitate to take them by force.

After all, if his body could regain its health and youth, why leave the Eye of the Moon Plan to someone else? He could execute it himself.

If he'd had that option—if he hadn't had to wait until he was nearly in the grave to awaken the Rinnegan—do you think a prideful madman like Madara would've left it to someone else? Of course not. He'd have seized every Tailed Beast himself and cast Infinite Tsukuyomi long ago.

So when he realized these system foods might restore him even partially, he had already resolved: if confirmed effective, he'd take them by force.

Because they were limited. Because they were supplied by Uchiha Kei. If Kei gave them to others, that was, in Madara's eyes, stealing *his* life.

Don't say Madara wouldn't stoop to that. This isn't the proud hero who once rivaled Hashirama. This is the later-years Madara—the one who used underhanded means to manipulate Obito, turning a once-promising youth into a twisted "Savior."

You shouldn't expect nobility from this Madara.

No doubt, Uchiha Kei had predicted this. He knew Madara would shamelessly steal the system-made snacks. Their effects were simply too broken—treasure-tier consumables, especially for the Uchiha.

That's why Kei had the Zetsus spread news that cola would soon be mass-produced—to reduce Madara's urge to rob people.

As long as these vitality-restoring items were abundant and sustainable, Madara would stay hidden and content underground instead of jumping out to cause chaos.

And it worked.

Knowing cola would be mass-produced, Madara put away his thoughts of theft.

The other foods weren't limitless, but cola—the most crucial one—was. That alone made him content to remain in the shadows, peering at the shinobi world.

After all, after decades, he'd grown used to this life. Even a war-hardened demon like Madara, now at death's door, had become habitual—instinctively resisting change.

Once full and satisfied, Madara smacked his lips, licked them, savoring the taste of his otaku meal. Then, he turned to Black Zetsu.

"Black Zetsu, has anything new happened in Konoha? Any new genjutsu games?"

"..." Black Zetsu really wanted to say no and beg Madara to stop being a game addict. But he didn't dare.

He could only respond obediently, "Madara-sama, Konoha is shifting into a commercial city. Construction is ongoing everywhere—they've even started building a new district."

"And yes, there is a new genjutsu game. It started promotional campaigns ten days ago. While the exact title is unknown, the slogan is: 'Ignite the Ultimate Storm of the Shinobi World.' It's generating a lot of hype."

"And because of the promised game launch event, many people from outside Konoha are arriving to attend."

Upon hearing this, Madara narrowed his eyes and sneered coldly. "Turning Konoha into a business city? These youngsters are truly degenerating. They've abandoned Hashirama's traditions. They're courting disaster."

"Hmph! The moment another great shinobi war breaks out, this kind of Konoha will be the prime target for every other village!"

After criticizing the changes, Madara suddenly asked, "When's the game launch? What day is the event?"

Black Zetsu: "Uh, it's three days from now."

Madara nodded. "Good. Then this old man shall attend!"

Black Zetsu: "Y-you want to go? Madara-sama, your body—"

Madara shot him a look and declared proudly, "This old man can feel it. I'm in good health. Just a bit of walking—to watch a game launch—should be no problem. It's a way to test my partially recovered body."

Black Zetsu: "Uh… okay. Then, do you need us to do anything?"

Madara: "Nothing. Konoha is full of flaws now. Besides, with all those outsiders, no one will notice an extra old man."

Black Zetsu gulped but bowed respectfully. "Then… Madara-sama, should I accompany you?"

Madara paused in thought, making Black Zetsu tense up.

Finally, he shook his head. "No need. Someone has to watch over this place. You stay here."

Black Zetsu let out a breath of relief. So long as he didn't have to step into dangerous Konoha, it was fine.

He nodded eagerly, saying he'd guard the place well, his tone unusually enthusiastic—as if it were a coveted job.

Madara thought he was a bit too excited but didn't dwell on it. To him, Black Zetsu was merely a will born from his Rinnegan. Being happy to serve was only natural.

And so, it was decided: Madara Uchiha would personally attend the game launch event.

At the same time, within the Foundation, Shimura Danzō had finalized his own plan—to make a move against Uchiha Obito on the very same day as the game launch.

With the chaos of the event, all of Konoha would be distracted. The Uchiha clan would be spread thin, and even Minato Namikaze would be busy coordinating.

It would be the perfect opportunity to strike.