A week had passed.
Under Uchiha Hikaru’s new system, each unit was granted two days of rest every week, along with a one-month vacation every two months. These breaks could be used for out-of-village missions or personal training to enhance their chakra control and combat ability. The mbers of the Police Force were more than satisfied with the current workload and structure.
Hikaru had already handed down the complete training regin to each squad captain, allowing him the ti to implent the next phase of his plan.
Around the sa ti, the specialized combat uniforms and standard-issue ninja swords commissioned by Hikaru for the Police Force were completed and delivered from the ninja tool shop.
An eagle soared above the training ground. If one could see from that height, the sight would have been astonishing.
Hikaru stood at the front of the formation in a dark blue combat uniform. Beside him, Fugaku wore the sa design, though his ninja gear differed—on his back was a silver-white katana that glead with a cold, dangerous light.
Lined up before them, more than 400 police force ninjas stood in formation, each clad in the sa gray-black combat uniforms. The style matched Hikaru’s, though made from more affordable materials—water-resistant, but not chakra-resistant. Each ninja stood one ter apart from the next in a perfect grid, a black katana sheathed across each of their backs.
Snap.
Hikaru snapped his fingers, casting a Genjutsu that allowed every mber to visualize the entire formation from a third-person perspective.
In the illusion, the police ninjas saw themselves standing with legs slightly apart, arms clasped behind their backs, eyes forward, posture straight. They radiated presence and discipline.
From this elevated, illusory perspective, only the front row’s faces were visible—rows behind were perfectly aligned, each head blocked by the one in front. Viewed from above, more than 400 ninjas stood in seamless gray-black uniforms, with the Uchiha fan crest and black swords prominent on their backs. On the leftmost column, dark blue cuffs marked a commanding unit, each adorned with the clan symbol.
The effect was overwhelming—intimidation, order, and purpose concentrated into one striking image.
When the Genjutsu lifted, the pride and awe on everyone’s faces were unmistakable. The week’s grueling drills suddenly made sense. What they once thought was pointless now felt powerful. One phrase sumd up their reaction:
"So damn cool."
Indeed, this was Hikaru’s first strategic play.
The Uchiha clan was known for its beautiful people—sharp, striking n and elegant, powerful won. Hikaru hadn’t forgotten how much appearances influenced public perception.
In his past life, he rembered well: a man with biting wit and an average face was just "difficult" or "unpleasant," but give him model-like looks, and he beca a "cold, mysterious god."
Throughout history, whether it was street gangs, mafia syndicates, or even military regis—uniforms and aesthetic identity played a massive role in public fascination and recruitnt.
Hikaru aid to weaponize this.
He would rebrand the Uchiha Police Force not only with power and discipline but with a clean, intimidating, and charismatic image. Uniformity, order, and undeniable presence would turn heads and earn trust.
Standing beside him, Fugaku surveyed the transformation. In just one week, Hikaru had rebuilt the entire departnt’s presence. Fugaku now understood—this wasn’t just so surface-level effort. Hikaru’s strategy was real, and it was already working.
Ti to show the results.
——
Inside the Hokage Office.
Sarutobi Hiruzen sat at his desk, peering into his crystal ball with lecherous intent, eyes locked on the won’s bathhouse. His aged face was flushed red, nostrils flaring as his imagination ran wild.
BANG BANG BANG!
The sudden knock snapped him out of his perversion.
He quickly stashed the crystal ball and sat up, forcing composure.
"Co in."
"Hokage-sama! The Police Departnt has suddenly gathered in full force at the village entrance. We don’t know what they’re planning!"
"What?!"
Hiruzen bolted upright, alard.
"Mobilize the ANBU. I’m going down there myself."
"Yes!"
They arrived quickly at Konoha’s main gate—only to find Fugaku and Uchiha Hikaru leading the entire Police Force, standing tall. Over 400 Uchiha ninjas stood behind them, gripping their swords in their right hands, posture rigid and perfect.
Hiruzen’s eyes narrowed.
Why had the Uchiha mobilized like this? Shisui’s death should have stifled any thoughts of rebellion—besides, if they were staging a coup, it wouldn’t be this overt. The Uchiha had only 400 Police Force mbers, while the village had thousands of other shinobi.
And why the hell was Uchiha Hikaru standing beside Fugaku like an equal? He was just a talented Jonin—nothing compared to Shisui or Itachi.
Before Hiruzen could voice any doubts, Hikaru stepped forward and addressed him directly.
"Hokage-sama, the Police Departnt has recently received nurous complaints from villagers about excessive force and harsh treatnt during arrests. Minister Fugaku and I have taken the feedback seriously. We’ve disciplined our officers and implented reforms."
"Today, we present the new Police Departnt. We invite you—and the villagers—to inspect our results."
Hiruzen was caught off guard.
Had the Uchiha... turned over a new leaf?
Was Shisui’s death truly the catalyst?
Regardless, Hikaru’s words were asured and respectful. There was no reason to object. Villagers had already begun gathering nearby out of curiosity.
"Since the departnt has accepted the villagers’ concerns, that’s a good thing," Hiruzen said. "Proceed. Let’s see what you’ve prepared."
Hikaru nodded sharply.
"Let’s move. Destination—Hokage Building!"
"Yes, sir!"
Their synchronized response echoed through the air, drawing even more villagers. Idle shinobi on rooftops paused to observe.
"Let’s go!"
In perfect sync, the Police Force advanced.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Each footstep landed with deliberate force, vibrating through the ground. The unified impact stirred sothing primal in the crowd.
The villagers were stunned into silence.
The n of the Police Force were tall and sharp-featured. The won were strong and poised. Each gripped their katana in their right hand, held across their chest at identical angles.
Hikaru and Fugaku led from the front—two commanding figures like the heads of a great dragon, guiding the mighty body behind them.
On a red-tiled rooftop, Nara Shikaku stood with Akimichi Choza and Yamanaka Inoichi.
Shikaku stared in awe.
"All those uniforms were custom-made... by Hikaru," he muttered. "I made a fortune off this commission."
Choza and Inoichi stared, jaws slack.
"Hikaru’s changing the Uchiha," Shikaku said gravely. "Which ans... Konoha is about to change, too."
Choza blinked, still trying to absorb it. Inoichi’s eyes narrowed—he could sense sothing shifting, but not yet place it.
Shikaku’s expression darkened.
"Look at the villagers," he said. "The fear, the disgust—it’s gone. All I see now is admiration. Curiosity. Even... desire."
Indeed, Hikaru’s strategy was working. The public perception of the Uchiha was being shattered—no more whispers of rebellion, no more children hiding behind parents in fear. The village was now in awe.
Even other shinobi squads began murmuring from nearby rooftops.
"Look, isn’t that Captain Dahiko? Front row, far left!"
"Wait... since when was Captain Inahiko that handso?"
"Are you blind? He’s always been handso. But now—he’s lethal! I want to marry him!"
That last voice ca from Inuzuka Hana, just 14, part of the Genin team led by Uchiha Inahiko. Her teammates—Abura Sakamoto and Gekkō Jirō—stood beside her.
In her wide eyes, Inahiko was the embodint of cool. She didn’t even consider the age gap—he was 25, after all. All she saw was strength, beauty, and charisma. Her face lit up in a wild, untad blush.
Elsewhere, Mitarashi Anko and Kurenai Yuhi stood side-by-side, eyes fixed on Hikaru.
"Hey, Kurenai... damn. I haven’t seen that guy in over a year. When did he turn into such a snack?"
"Ahem—how should I know?" Kurenai said quickly, eyes not leaving Hikaru. "I haven’t been on a mission with him in over six months."
Their cheeks ward together, betraying what they both already knew—they were competing for the sa man.
Kurenai had taken over Hikaru’s class after he graduated early. At only ten, she had been promoted to Special Jonin. After Hikaru made Chunin, they’d often tead up. She’d confided in him about Asuma’s clinginess and her own frustrations.
Before she realized it, she had fallen for the boy six years her junior. When Hikaru left for advanced duties, the pain in her heart made it clear—he wasn’t just a comrade. He’d beco sothing much more.
Anko, on the other hand, had it worse. She’d fallen for him the day he enrolled. At nine years old, she was already smitten with his cherubic, serious face.
She’d tease him after class, send him extra food, and watch over him with feral protectiveness. After learning that his parents had died during the Third War—just like hers—her bond with him only deepened.
Had Orochimaru not claid her as his disciple and pulled her from the Academy, Anko would’ve deliberately flunked three years just to graduate with him.
And she would’ve done it, too. No hesitation.
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