At the dining table, besides Uchiha Mikoto, Uchiha Fugaku also saw a young child around four or five years old.
The child had black hair and eyes, with delicate, chiseled features like a porcelain doll.
Though still very young, his facial structure already hinted at great potential he would no doubt grow into a strikingly handsome man who would have many girls vying for his attention.
This child was none other than Uchiha Sasuke.
The one Fugaku disliked Uchiha Itachi wasn't present. He had left the village with Uchiha Shisui on a mission.
Upon seeing him, Sasuke called out crisply.
Fugaku responded with a nod, gently patting Sasuke on the head before sitting down cross-legged.
The boy beamed with joy, as if he had received a reward.
Without having experienced the Uchiha Clan Massacre, Sasuke's personality remained normal unlike in the original timeline, where he grew cold and distant. At most, he exhibited a bit of proud arrogance, typical of a genius nurtured within the Uchiha clan.
But even that pride held no weight before the identity he now possessed.
"This kid has potential. I need to indoctrinate him early—make sure he's firmly in my grasp."
Seeing how just a simple head pat could make Sasuke so happy, Fugaku made a mental note.
Compared to the two "ungrateful wolves" Itachi and Shisui, Sasuke was far more promising—at least the version of him before the massacre. With the right guidance, he could grow into a tremendous ally.
And not just any ally—one with immense potential. After all, Sasuke was the reincarnation of Indra.
But before any of that could happen, he needed to lead the Uchiha clan through the impending massacre. Without that, all plans were meaningless.
After dinner, he headed to the training yard.
Although he had inherited Fugaku's memories, he wasn't originally the same person. He had to confirm whether he had also inherited Fugaku's combat experience.
Without it, strength alone would be insufficient. Lacking real battle experience would greatly reduce his combat effectiveness, especially when it came to surviving the "Night of the Massacre."
He pulled eight shuriken from his ninja pouch, slotting them between his fingers just as Fugaku used to.
A wave of muscle memory washed over him.
With a flick of both hands, he launched the eight shuriken.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The shuriken flew forward, not all at the same speed some slower, some faster.
The faster ones struck the slower ones midair, creating a cascade of collisions.
Their trajectories changed as a result, scattering in all directions across the practice field.
Each of the eight shuriken landed dead center on a target—hitting the red bullseyes precisely.
"Fire Style: Phoenix Fire Jutsu."
Without missing a beat, Fugaku formed hand seals rapidly. He cupped one hand at his mouth like a trumpet and expelled a series of fireballs.
They struck the eight targets directly.
With crackling blasts, the targets burst into sparks and flames.
"Looks like the original combat experience is still intact."
He stopped and nodded in satisfaction.
Landing eight shuriken on separate bullseyes and precisely targeting them with ninjutsu—this proved that Fugaku's combat skills had been fully inherited.
If his guess was right, those skills had become ingrained in his muscle memory. There would be no need to retrain from scratch.
"Kage-level combat power!"
With his inherited combat skills, strong physical foundation, and Mangekyō Sharingan, he possessed the power of a Kage.
"But that alone isn't enough. I have to go even further."
He knew well: just being Kage-level wouldn't be enough to prevent the massacre.
After all, the enemy wasn't just Uchiha Itachi there was also Uchiha Obito. Both wielded Mangekyō Sharingan. In his current state, he couldn't hope to match them.
He had considered killing Itachi before he awakened his Mangekyō Sharingan but that would be a last resort.
It wasn't sentimentality due to their superficial father-son relationship. Rather, he needed a pair of Mangekyō Sharingan from someone with close blood ties only then could his eyes evolve into the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
Killing Itachi before he awakened the Mangekyō would be a waste.
"Itachi hasn't awakened his Mangekyō Sharingan yet. Transplanting them now wouldn't help me evolve mine into the Eternal Mangekyō."
"At this stage, the best way to grow stronger is by transplanting Hashirama cells. Risky but not for me."
Thanks to his eye technique Corpse Refinement the risks didn't apply.
By refining the body of someone who had perfectly fused with Hashirama's cells, he could absorb those cells into his own body without side effects.
"In the current shinobi world, only Yamato and the White Zetsu clones have successfully fused with Hashirama cells."
He recalled memories from his past life.
Yamato, the sole survivor of Orochimaru's experiments, had fused with Hashirama cells perfectly, even gaining Wood Release with no adverse effects.
The White Zetsu clones were created by Uchiha Madara using Hashirama cells and the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path. They too had perfect compatibility.
Whether he refined Yamato or a White Zetsu clone, both would remove the strain of using Mangekyō and increase his strength.
"Yamato is probably still in the ANBU under direct command of the Hokage. Targeting him would definitely raise red flags possibly even expose me."
"But the White Zetsu clones… they're abundant. Losing one wouldn't draw attention."
A decision formed in his mind.
Compared to Yamato, whose disappearance would stir up too much trouble, the expendable White Zetsu clones were a much safer option.
After a while of training, night had fully fallen.
He left the practice field, took a bath, and returned to the bedroom.
Inside, Uchiha Mikoto sat cross-legged on a tatami mat, wearing a light nightgown.
The thin fabric did little to hide her alluring figure. Pale skin peeked out from beneath the cloth.
Her long black hair flowed down her back, carrying a faint floral scent.
Seeing this enticing sight and remembering that this beautiful woman was his wife—Fugaku's gaze couldn't help but heat up slightly.