Uchiha Kei: Game Dev in the Shinobi World

While both Kurama and Kushina were enjoying themselves inside the game, the real world was in uproar. One by one, those who had encountered the one-man-one-fox duo logged out—visibly shaken by what they had just witnessed.

After all, a male of the Uzumaki clan, who could skillfully wield their clan's secret techniques? That alone was astonishing.

Naturally, those who encountered him went into full mental overdrive.

Why is there someone like this still in Konoha? Why have we never heard of him before? His in-game name is "Menma." Is that his real name, or just an alias?

Do the village leaders know about this person? What's his real position?

One question after another left those who'd seen Uzumaki Kushina confused, spiraling into meme-worthy states of bewilderment.

Even worse—what if this was a village-level secret? If they started digging, who knew what forbidden line they might cross? Especially considering that one of the event's hosts was Konoha itself.

And that guy? Wrecking people left and right with zero subtlety? No way the organizers didn't know.

Ninja weren't buying the ignorance act.

So whether they were from Konoha or elsewhere, everyone kept the info to themselves—for now. But rumors were bound to spread: that Konoha was secretly hiding a formidable male from the Uzumaki clan.

And honestly? Most other villages would accept it without question. After all, the Uzumaki and Konoha were allies. The clan's near-erasure back then had shocked the entire shinobi world. Even Konoha was caught off guard.

But who's to say Konoha only took in the current Nine-Tails jinchūriki and one refugee from the Land of Grass?

If survivors could make it to a minor nation, why not more in Konoha? Likely, most were children at the time and kept hidden to protect them.

Now, decades later, those kids could have grown up—perhaps into Kage-level elites.

Konoha certainly had the foundation. With so many known top-tier ninja, who could say they didn't have hidden ones too?

Maybe this whole game presentation was a calculated move. A way to let VIP guests experience firsthand the power of a matured Uzumaki clan member—without exposing their real strength.

After all, all player stats were normalized to standard jōnin level. You couldn't actually tell how strong your opponent was in the real world.

That guy "Menma"? He could be a chūnin—or he could be Kage-level. All you had was speculation. And that uncertainty? A nightmare for any rival village.

Because if this Uzumaki was the real deal, then his power could potentially tip the balance in battle. Contingencies would need to be made. Resources would have to be diverted.

And the more they thought about it, the more irritated those scouts from other villages became. They weren't fools. The smart ones were the ones assigned today's role.

And they were now stewing in one thought:

Konoha. You sneaky, underhanded bastards.

Because this? This was open scheming.

A blatant show of force. A statement: Are you with us or not?

And what's worse? Even Konoha's higher-ups didn't realize the move they'd just pulled off.

Meanwhile, those who'd encountered Kurama had a different look.

When they returned to the real world, they were dazed, wearing awkwardly blissful smiles—as if they'd just lost their souls.

One poor Sarutobi clan member, who'd nosebled in-game, was now nosebleeding in real life. This freaked the staff out. Medical kits were fetched. First aid was offered.

The Sarutobi ninja snapped back to reality, face as red as a monkey's butt, utterly embarrassed. He refused to say what happened in the game.

Who could blame him? If word got out that he lost it over a beautiful Nine-Tails lady, his reputation would be obliterated. Game over.

He even declined a break in the lounge. Why? He wanted back in.

He needed to see her again.

The temptation had overwhelmed him. He had to return. And it was just a game, after all. In reality, he was still a proud son of the Sarutobi clan.

Still… curiosity gnawed at him. Who was this Nine-Tails woman in real life?

Nine tails? His mind jumped to the Nine-Tails jinchūriki—but quickly dismissed the thought.

He'd seen Kushina before. This mysterious in-game woman was entirely different. You couldn't even compare them.

He assumed the fox ears and tails were just visual effects—like a transformation technique or a special cosmetic. No way she was a real person.

Seriously, where in reality would you find a woman with fox ears and nine tails?

No way. Impossible!

Still… he had to see her again.

Why not look for her in real life?

Well, if she were among the hundreds of VIPs, someone would've spotted her. Even without the fox features, she was drop-dead gorgeous. A true showstopper.

Yet, no one had reacted. That meant she wasn't out in the open.

And with Konoha's higher-ups and the gaming guild hosting this event, who knew what was going on behind the scenes?

Clearly, she'd logged in secretly. She had her reasons. As a proper shinobi, he wouldn't pry.

Others might. Enemy spies surely would. But whether they'd succeed—or survive—that was another matter.

Since she appeared in-game, it was safe to pursue another chance encounter there.

And yes, some players did ask about "Tamamo-no-Mae" in real life. But staff always replied politely: "Player identities are private. Unless they break the law or threaten Konoha's safety, we will never investigate them."

Whether people believed it or not? That was on them.

So inquiries died down. No one wanted a Sharingan or Byakugan aimed at them. Or worse—Shadow Possession Jutsu from a nearby clan.

All this? Courtesy of Kushina and Kurama.

What's that? Isn't Madara involved too?

Sure, Madara had wrecked plenty of players in-game, utterly humiliating them. But that was it.

He was simply strong. Scarily strong. A master of experience and technique.

But unlike the Kurama situation, nobody ran to staff crying about him.

Everyone assumed he was some old Uchiha geezer reliving his glory days. Maybe someone too old to fight in the real world, so he flexed in-game.

Especially with that mask. Classic "I'm definitely hiding something" behavior.

And since the Uchiha clan co-sponsored this event, who would stop an elder from diving into nostalgia and pummeling a few players?

Even Konoha leadership wouldn't say no.

So no one really cared. He was just some old-timer chasing youth. Sure, he was annoying—but also kind of relatable.

In fact, many guessed it was Uchiha Setsuna. That old fossil was always bragging about the glory days under Madara.

Nostalgia, pride, and a big ego. That was the Uchiha way.

If he wanted to dominate some kids in "Ultimate Storm" to relive the good old days, who could blame him?

After all, compared to the 60–70-year-olds, the 40–50-year-old retired ninja were still considered youngsters.

And nobody wanted to admit they were beaten by a grandpa. It was embarrassing. So most victims just shut up. Even the scouts made minimal reports.

Why bother? The old man wouldn't fight on a battlefield again.

So, in a blissful misunderstanding, Madara danced across the game map, wrecking everyone—and no one paid him any mind. Even his own clan didn't know what he was up to.

But among the legends of "Ultimate Storm's" first test run… his name was already one of them.

And then…

As the one with ultimate authority over all genjutsu games and the entire mental network, Uchiha Kei finally learned what was happening.

That Old Man Madara had gone wild.

That Kurama and Kushina had smurfed their way through the game.

And in that moment… Kei's face became the perfect meme:

"Subway Grandpa Looking at Phone.jpg."