Konoha: The Thirty-Year-Old Uchiha Can’t Be Bothered

Chapter 333: Kids Fighting Is So Boring

Susanoo—aside from Raiton, it was Indra's favorite jutsu. When standing within Susanoo's cockpit, he could look down on the world, all living things as ants, everything he once had to look up to reduced to trifles.

Most importantly, with Susanoo, he could crush Asura's ridiculous wooden dolls in his hands and toy with them at will.

In short—one word:

Big!

Perched on the head of his wooden Rakan, Hashirama's face was grim as he watched the black fox knight begin forming seals. The opponent had already overpowered him with mere taijutsu earlier, and now was about to show ninjutsu? Clearly he was preparing something huge.

"Mokuton: Mokuryū no Jutsu (Wood Style: Wood Dragon Technique)!"

Not knowing what the enemy was about to unleash, Hashirama didn't dare wait. He clapped his hands, summoning two thick wooden dragons that lunged at the black fox knight.

"Rumble—!!!"

Indra arched a brow. "Smarter than that idiot. Impressive."

But then his tone chilled. "A pity—you're still just an insect."

As the jutsu completed, the mask hid his face, but from within, his eyes glowed blood-red, tomoe spinning. Behind him, massive violet hands formed, each the size of a Bijū. Compared to them, the wooden dragons looked like worms in a giant's palm.

"Susanoo."

The purple giant surged higher, a hundred, two hundred, three hundred meters tall, towering into the clouds.

Hashirama swallowed hard, throat dry. "How can it be… this huge?"

He was no stranger to Susanoo—he'd fought Madara countless times, their wooden man versus Madara's Susanoo, evenly matched. But this one—this was over twice Madara's size. His wooden man barely reached its waist.

"Phew… still a bit small, not even half of mine in my prime. But it'll do."

In the cockpit, Indra glanced down at the wooden Rakan, disappointed. He didn't like the scale.

"Shhhk—"

Unsatisfied, he decided to vent. With a casual swing, the purple Susanoo's massive blade came crashing down.

Hashirama leapt back with his wooden man, but the blade was simply too enormous. The sword's aura sliced the Rakan in half. A mountain behind them lost its peak to the same stroke.

The power chilled Hashirama's heart.

"Mokuton: Mokujin no Jutsu (Wood Style: Wood Human Technique)!"

He clapped again. From the severed halves of his wooden man, new life sprouted. In moments, he had two giants.

"Even if ants double, they're still ants."

Indra sneered.

"Boom! Boom!"

Hashirama directed the wooden men to unleash wood dragons, harrying Susanoo. But it was pointless. The attacks didn't even dent its defenses.

"Do I need to use Shin Sūsenju (True Several Thousand Hands) again?"

He knew it was his only card. But his sage chakra was not yet recovered. He needed minutes to gather nature energy—and Indra wasn't going to give him that.

Clap!

Susanoo grabbed both wooden men at once, hoisting them like children in a giant's hands.

Not good!

Hashirama launched himself up to the giant's face, standing on his creation's head.

"Too weak. This era's shinobi… are far too weak."

Indra ignored him, scanning the world with his senses. Every chakra signature was fragile. It was boring.

But his released aura stirred the heavens. In the Pure Land, Hagoromo slowly opened his Rinnegan, eyes filled with heaviness.

"Indra… your obsession still hasn't faded."

Rising, he covered the massage chair he'd been enjoying, muttering over how to deal with his disobedient son.

"Big brother! Did you feel it? The eldest nephew is out!"

Hamura dropped from the moon in a rush.

"I know." Hagoromo nodded. Even Hamura, far away, had sensed it.

"What do we do? If he keeps this up, the earth will be destroyed!"

Hamura was panicked. Hagoromo was curious—why was his brother, normally detached, so invested?

He quickly found the reason.

"Just mind mother's seal. Stop meddling in mortal affairs."

"But… but my offerings come from down there!"

Hamura blurted before realizing.

Hagoromo sighed, shaking his head. "You and your indulgence. We're dead. Stop clinging to worldly pleasures."

Hamura shrank, nodding in guilt.

Then—

"Bzzz—Balance insufficient. Please recharge! Balance insufficient. Please recharge!"

The voice of the massage chair filled the Pure Land. Hamura's eyes sharpened. "Big brother…"

"Ahem! No time to argue. Do you have a solution?" Hagoromo coughed, sneaking chakra into the chair to silence it.

Hamura glared. "So even you have no way, huh?"

Eventually, Hagoromo admitted: "Indra is but a fragment of chakra. Once he kills Asura's reincarnation, he'll fade again. The cycle will restart."

Hamura frowned. "So we do nothing?"

"Our first duty is mother. And… I have a bad premonition. Her prison may not hold much longer."

Meanwhile—

"Hyah! Right kick! Left stomp!"

Far away, Susanoo was tearing apart the wooden men, while Gin hummed as he pounded lemons for juice.

"Hashirama's been on top too long. Let him taste the common man's suffering."

He wasn't worried. After all, the buckle was his creation. With a thought, he could nullify it.

"Done! Sweet and sour fresh lemonade. Enjoy~"

A hand reached out from a void, snatching his drink away.

"Thanks for coming~" Gin sighed. If he didn't pamper that black-skinned goddess, she'd drag him into the Shadow Realm at night.

Sizzling smells filled the air. Gin happily basted honey on chicken wings.

But as he reached to eat—another hand snatched them away.

"Hey!!"

He gawked as Kaguya sat there, both lemonade and wings in hand, eating like she owned them.

Crunch, crunch.

To her, it was natural—junior clansmen offering tribute to their ancestor.

"Tch…" Gin sulked. She's grandfather's relic. I can't exactly throw her away.

After devouring the wings, Kaguya yawned. Watching the distant battle, she muttered, "Kids fighting is boring." Then she vanished back into her void.

"…" Gin sighed.

Just then, a giant severed arm slammed into the ground nearby.

He rubbed his scalp. "Guess it's time I stepped in. Hashirama's about to get killed."

On the battlefield—

"Madara!!"

Bruised and pale, Hashirama struggled to stay standing. His wooden man had one arm left, regenerating sluggishly.

"Why are you two so close?"

Indra appeared before him, purple eyes cold. He remembered when he and Asura had once been brothers, inseparable, until fate turned them to enemies. Now their reincarnations were closer than blood brothers. It irritated him.

"Give Madara back!"

Despite being drained, Hashirama's resolve didn't waver.

"You're irritating."

Indra's killing intent poured out. He drew his black-blue blade, stepping closer.

Hashirama didn't flinch. Instead, he lunged for the buckle at Indra's waist.

Clack!

His hands gripped it! For a moment, joy lit his eyes. If he pulled it free, Madara would return!

But no matter how he strained, it wouldn't budge. A palm pressed against his chest.

Flash!

"Ghhhk—!"

Blood sprayed. His organs shifted from the blow, blood dripping from his mouth.

Yet he staggered up again, stubbornly advancing.

Indra raised his blade. "Let's see if your head is harder than my sword."

Hashirama's eyes blurred. "Madara…"

"Shine!"

The blade swung down—but froze. Indra's body halted.

"Hm?"

He was pulled back into the consciousness sea.

There—chains rattled. A clawed hand clamped onto him.

"Will you oppose me?" Indra demanded coldly.

Kurama's weary eyes met his. "I have my reasons."

Madara shouted, "Nine-Tails! Together!"

Kurama roared, hurling Indra—but suddenly Indra stood on its nose, violet eyes drilling into its soul. One kick sent Kurama tumbling.

Madara charged, but his taijutsu was easily dismantled. He was battered aside, gasping, yet he refused to yield.

Indra actually admired it. Aside from his disobedience, this reincarnation is perfect.

"Give up. Neither of you can defeat me."

Madara snarled, "What did you do to Hashirama?!"

"Already killed him." Indra lied, watching Madara's reaction.

BOOM!

Flames erupted across the consciousness space. On Madara's waist—

A gray Driver appeared.

(To be continued)

(End of Chapter)

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