Naruto: The Thirty-Year-Old Uchiha Can't Get Motivated"

The moment the system notification appeared, Uchiha Silver felt a cool sensation wash over both hands. The searing pain caused by Amaterasu vanished completely, as if it had never existed.

His body was perfectly fine, as though everything that had just happened was nothing more than a dream.

Only the throbbing pain in his right eye reminded him otherwise. The crimson double tomoe in his Sharingan spun rapidly, a cold and oppressive energy pooling within it, filling him with an unbearable urge to release it.

Experimentally, Uchiha Silver guided this strange energy and instinctively released it into the empty space before him.

A "blossom" of black flames suddenly ignited in the air. Uchiha Silver felt his ocular power draining at an alarming rate.

Warm blood trickled down the corner of his eye, startling him enough to quickly deactivate his Sharingan.

The tiny flame of Amaterasu—barely the size of a lighter's spark—faded away as his eyes returned to normal.

Gasping for breath, drained just from producing such a small flame, Uchiha Silver wiped the blood from his eye, puzzled.

As a Mangekyō-exclusive technique, how had he managed to cast it with merely a double tomoe Sharingan?

"Could it be… the system?"

With no logical explanation available, he simply shoved the blame onto the system.

After resting for a while, he rubbed his sore right eye.

Amaterasu filled the gap in his arsenal—his monstrous strength was powerful, but against nimble enemies, it was hard to land a hit.

"Still… didn't Amaterasu in the original series barely manage to kill anyone other than a few White Zetsu?"

He mentally complained about the underwhelming track record of Amaterasu.

Turning back into the house, he saw Senju Itama still snoring loudly. Uchiha Silver lay down on the couch, staring grimly at his hands.

Earlier, when he was struck by Amaterasu, he'd been prepared to lose his arm if necessary. But by pure chance, a strange protective mechanism had been activated.

He deduced that the Uzumaki crest on his right hand must be a special protective seal, passively triggered in moments of danger. That rune earlier had likely been a fire-sealing technique automatically cast when exposed to fire-style attacks.

"But my left hand…"

Looking at the back of his empty left hand, Uchiha Silver infused it with chakra, but it was like throwing stones into the ocean—nothing came back, only slow chakra consumption.

He recalled the mysterious rune that had flashed earlier and scoured the original owner's memories but found nothing.

Since transmigrating, he'd gone through those memories' countless times. Childhood was hazy, likely from immaturity. The fragmented memories of the raid on their camp were probably the result of trauma and the brain's protective mechanisms.

Everything afterward was just mundane daily life—until Uchiha Silver replaced him.

"Forget it!"

With no answers, Uchiha Silver decided to give up. He had work tomorrow anyway. Relaxing, he drifted into deep sleep.

The next morning, Uchiha Silver woke up early. He yanked the blanket off Senju Itama, who was clinging to a piece of Silver's childhood clothing like a pillow, snoring loudly. Silver promptly smacked him on the head.

"Ahhhh!"

Itama shot up, clutching his head.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

Ignoring his complaints, Silver said:

"I'm going to work today. There's food in the kitchen. Don't even think about running away. The entire village is full of Uchiha. If anyone recognizes you, you know what'll happen."

Pouting, Itama nodded reluctantly.

"I'll buy some hair dye on the way home tonight. We need to do something about that obvious hair color of yours," Silver added before heading out.

Walking out the door, he leisurely made his way toward the underground prison, following the memories of the body's original owner.

On the way, he greeted a few Uchiha clansmen, but they all fled at the sight of him, as if he were a plague.

Left standing awkwardly, Uchiha Silver could only sigh. Given the reputation of this body's previous owner, it wasn't something he could fix overnight.

At last, he arrived at a grim-looking gate. Knocking firmly, he waited until a small sliding hatch opened, revealing the face of the same gloomy Uchiha who had visited him yesterday.

The man gave him a single glance, closed the hatch, and slowly opened the gate. Without hesitation, Silver walked in.

He followed the man through a narrow, pitch-black corridor. They passed through another door, and the space gradually widened, with torches on the walls lighting the way.

"From now on, I'm your supervisor."

The gloomy Uchiha's voice was cold, as if it came from the depths of the underworld, sending a chill down Silver's spine.

"And you are…?" Silver asked carefully, unsure of how to deal with this man.

"Uchiha Ryūkage," he replied bluntly.

They continued walking. The prison seemed endless. After what felt like ages, Ryūkage finally stopped in front of a small door labeled Records Room.

Inside, Silver was greeted by utter chaos: scrolls piled on the floor, stacked haphazardly on desks and shelves, as though the place had been looted.

Noticing Silver's baffled look, Ryūkage spoke:

"The previous archivist died. His indexing system was lost along with him. You're going to organize everything from scratch."

Only then did Silver learn the truth. With no catalog, every prisoner file had to be searched one by one—an absurdly inefficient process.

Now, the clan desperately needed someone to fix this mess.

Looking at the mountain of scrolls, Silver's head throbbed. He'd guessed that Uchiha Tajima wanted to keep him indoors, but he hadn't expected such a tedious job.

This would take forever.

"Do I get any help? There's way too much here," he asked hopefully.

"No extra manpower," Ryūkage replied flatly. His lifeless eyes held no emotion, like a machine without feelings.

"…Fine."

Silver reluctantly accepted.

"What about food? Where do I rest?"

"There's a cafeteria. You can go home at night," Ryūkage answered concisely.

Relieved, Silver exhaled. With Itama at home, he couldn't afford to be away overnight anyway.

"For your convenience, you're allowed unrestricted access to the prison cells," Ryūkage added.

"Just remember—even without chakra and with their limbs restrained, these prisoners are extremely dangerous."

The fact that Ryūkage even bothered to warn him left Silver mildly surprised.

"Don't die. I don't want to explain it to Elder Homura."

Wow. Thanks for the concern, boss.

Without another word, Ryūkage left, leaving Silver alone in the records room.

Shaking his head, Silver got to work, picking up scrolls from the floor and stacking them neatly on the desk.

He sighed as he looked at the mountain of documents and grabbed one at random:

"Kaguya Jōsuke: Rogue ninja. Killed two Uchiha clan members. Suspected mental instability. Illusionary interrogation ineffective. Details unknown. Currently imprisoned in Cell Block 2."

Kaguya?

Out of curiosity—mainly because of the name—Silver decided to pay this guy a visit later.

(End of Chapter)