System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 355: Chapter 354: The Currency of Freedom

Konoha - The Hyuga Compound

The Hyuga Compound was not merely a residence; it was a sprawling, architectural monument to unbroken continuity.

As Alaric Jonathan Kenway and Hiashi Hyuga passed through the towering, iron-reinforced timber gates, the sheer scale of the estate became immediately apparent. It was vastly larger than the former Uchiha Compound Alaric had purchased and razed years ago. The reason was as practical as it was political: unlike the Uchiha, who had been systematically marginalized and ultimately exterminated, the Hyuga had survived. They had thrived. For generations, their pristine reputation, relentless mission completion rates, and deeply entrenched commercial monopolies had allowed their wealth to compound into an empire within the village.

Paved walkways of smooth, white river stones wound their way through immaculate, sprawling gardens. Ancient pine trees were pruned with mathematical precision, casting long, elegant shadows over meticulously raked gravel beds and serene, crystalline koi ponds.

Yet, despite the beauty of the landscaping, the atmosphere was undeniably heavy.

As Alaric walked shoulder-to-shoulder with the clan patriarch, the rhythmic crunch of his heavy black boots against the gravel seemed to echo like thunder in the suffocating quiet. From the training grounds, the open verandas, and the shadowed archways, eyes watched them.

Dozens of Hyuga clansmen and women paused their daily routines, their pale, pupil-less gazes locking onto the towering anomaly walking beside their leader. It was an incredibly rare sight. Hiashi Hyuga was a man of isolated pride; he did not invite outsiders into the heart of the main estate, let alone a foreigner clad in a Konoha flak jacket, casually smoking a glowing cigar as if he owned the very air he breathed.

Alaric didn’t mind the stares. He took a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, allowing the rich, earthy smoke to drift lazily over his shoulder, entirely unbothered by the collective scrutiny of the most prestigious bloodline in the Leaf.

They reached the grand steps of the main house, a magnificent, multi-tiered structure of dark cedar and pristine white plaster. Slipping out of their footwear at the engawa, they stepped onto the polished, squeakless floorboards of the interior corridors.

The house smelled of old wood, expensive incense, and strict discipline.

As they navigated the wide, dimly lit hallway toward the central wing, the soft, rhythmic padding of footsteps descended the grand wooden staircase ahead of them.

Alaric looked up, his blue eyes catching the graceful descent of the clan heiress.

Hinata Hyuga paused halfway down the steps, her hands instinctively coming together in front of her waist. Her pale eyes widened in genuine, profound surprise. It had been an exceedingly long time since her father had personally escorted a guest of this caliber into the inner sanctum of the main house.

Alaric observed her for a brief moment, noting the passage of time. The shy, stuttering girl who had hidden behind heavy jackets during the Chunin Exams was gone. In her place stood a poised, beautifully matured young woman, carrying herself with a quiet, undeniable elegance that befitted her noble station.

Alaric offered her a warm, courteous smile, dipping his head in a polite, respectful nod.

Hinata blinked, a faint, polite dusting of pink touching her cheeks as she quickly returned the bow, deeply flustered by the attention of the legendary Jonin.

”Hinata,” Hiashi’s voice broke the quiet, his tone carrying the absolute, uncompromising authority of the household head.

”Y-Yes, Father?” she replied, straightening her posture immediately.

”Inform the head cook to prepare a significantly larger evening meal than usual,” Hiashi instructed, not pausing his stride. ”We have an important guest joining us tonight. Ensure the quality reflects the status of our house.”

”I understand,” Hinata nodded her head in immediate compliance, stepping gracefully aside to allow them passage. ”I will tell them right away, Father.”

Alaric gave her one last, friendly smile as he walked past, following Hiashi deeper into the sprawling estate.

Their path took them alongside an expansive, open-air hallway that bordered the private inner courtyard. Through the wide, sliding shōji screens, the sharp, percussive sounds of combat echoed into the corridor.

Thwack. Thwack. Thud.

Alaric glanced sideways, his eyes catching the fluid, devastating motion of the Gentle Fist.

In the center of the pristine training ground, Hanabi Hyuga was executing her clan’s signature kata. She moved with a fierce, snapping intensity, her palms thrusting through the air with surgical precision. She was young, but the sheer, focused lethality in her strikes spoke volumes of the grueling, relentless expectations placed upon her shoulders. She didn’t even notice the two men walking past, entirely consumed by the violent arithmetic of her training.

’The Hyuga breed soldiers, not children,’ Alaric mused silently, taking another puff of his cigar. ’Well, isn’t that the case for every village in this world?’

They finally arrived at a set of heavy, reinforced tatami doors at the very end of the corridor. Hiashi slid them open, revealing a spacious, impeccably organized office. The walls were lined with ancient scrolls detailing clan history and advanced chakra theory, while a massive, low wooden desk dominated the center of the room, flanked by austere, high-backed seating cushions.

”Please, grab a chair,” Hiashi offered, gesturing toward the guest seat as he stepped inside and firmly pulled the tatami doors shut behind them, sealing the room in absolute, soundproofed privacy.

Alaric didn’t hesitate. He sank comfortably into the cushioned seat, crossing his long legs at the ankle. He took a long, savory drag from his cigar, the ember glowing fiercely in the dim light of the office, before exhaling a thick cloud of grey smoke toward the wooden ceiling.

Hiashi moved to the opposite side of the desk, lowering himself into his own seat with rigid, unbroken dignity. He placed his hands flat on the polished wood, his pale eyes locking onto the blonde anomaly.

The preliminary pleasantries were over.

”You stated earlier that you possessed a solution,” Hiashi began, his voice dropping into a low, intense register that commanded the quiet room. ”A way to address the foundational vulnerability of my clan without relying on the methods of our ancestors. Tell me, Alaric. What exactly did you have in mind?”

Alaric didn’t answer immediately. He let the silence stretch, rolling the cigar thoughtfully between his fingers. He understood the monumental weight of the paradigm he was about to shift.

”The solution is mathematically simple, but politically devastating for you,” Alaric stated, his blue eyes meeting the patriarch’s unwavering gaze. ”You must completely remove the Caged Bird Seal from every living member of your branch family. Eradicate it entirely. And in its place, you replace it with a specific, highly advanced Fuinjutsu seal that I have conceptualized.”

Hiashi’s brow furrowed, a flicker of deep, ingrained skepticism flashing across his face. ”A new seal? What makes your design any different from the perfection our ancestors crafted?”

”I don’t have a formal name for it yet,” Alaric replied smoothly, leaning forward slightly. ”But the mechanics are absolute. If this seal is planted on an individual possessing a Dōjutsu, the genetic code of those eyes is inextricably locked to their life force. The moment the host dies, the Dōjutsu dies with them. The optic nerves, the chakra pathways, the genetic mutation... it all turns to useless, mundane ash instantly. Furthermore, if an enemy attempts to forcefully extract the eye while the host is still breathing, and the host does not consciously, willfully allow the extraction... the eye destroys itself.”

He tapped the ash from his cigar into a small ceramic tray on the desk.

”It perfectly secures the Byakugan. No one will ever be able to steal your secrets, dead or alive.”

The room plunged into a suffocating, terrifying stillness.

Hiashi Hyuga’s pale eyes widened to an impossible degree. The sheer, god-like mastery of Fuinjutsu required to bind a genetic bloodline to the conscious will of a soul was beyond anything the Uzumaki clan had ever recorded. But it wasn’t the mechanics of the seal that caused the patriarch’s blood to boil. It was the societal implication.

Slowly, the shock in Hiashi’s eyes morphed into a dark, towering fury. He glared at Alaric, the veins around his temples bulging slightly as he gripped the edge of his desk so hard the wood groaned in protest.

”You dare...?” Hiashi hissed, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, repressed rage. ”You offer a seal that merely destroys the eye, but removes the pain compliance? You are asking me to completely strip away the Main Branch’s authority! You are asking me to destroy the very hierarchy that has kept this clan functioning for centuries!”

If the Caged Bird Seal was removed, the Branch Family would no longer be held hostage by the threat of agonizing, remote-controlled brain destruction. They would be equals. The absolute dictatorship of the Main House would evaporate overnight, replaced by a terrifying, unmanageable autonomy.

Alaric did not flinch against the killing intent rolling off the Clan Head. He simply took another, unhurried drag from his cigar, entirely unimpressed by the aristocratic tantrum.

”Well, it’s a proposed solution, is it not?” Alaric asked, his voice calm, cold, and cutting cleanly through Hiashi’s fury. ”It removes your absolute, tyrannical control over your own blood, yes. However, it introduces something far more sustainable: true respect for your clan members.”

Alaric leaned back, blowing a perfect ring of smoke toward the furious patriarch.

”The elders in your main branch will absolutely hate it. They will despise it, because they don’t want their comfortable, inherited power to be removed,” Alaric diagnosed with ruthless accuracy. ”They enjoy holding the leash. But even then, my solution is the best, most mathematically sound solution for the betterment of the Hyuga clan as of right now.”

He offered a sharp, unapologetic smirk.

”You can even have the Hokage, the ANBU commander, and whoever else you choose from your inner circle accompany the sealing process to verify the script. You can stand right behind me with a drawn blade, and you have my absolute permission to kill me if I do anything suspicious while applying it.”

Hiashi’s glare hardened into a heavy, unbroken stare. His chest heaved as he took a huge, shuddering breath, forcefully dragging his legendary composure back over his fraying emotions. He closed his eyes for a long moment, the warring factions of duty, tradition, and progress tearing at his soul.

He knew Alaric was right. He had known it since the moment he watched his own brother, Hizashi, walk to his death to satisfy a political compromise born of this cursed seal. But acknowledging the rot was infinitely harder than living with it.

Hiashi opened his eyes, the fury gone, replaced by the exhausted, calculating gaze of a ruler cornered by logic.

”You are not a man of charity, Kenway-dono,” Hiashi stated, his voice a low, gravelly hum. Despite the sheer absurdity and the cultural devastation the solution promised, the fact remained that Alaric was offering a miracle. ”Why do you offer this? What is it that you want in exchange for tearing down the foundations of my house?”

Alaric’s smirk widened into a brilliant, predatory grin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, the capitalist architect finally stepping out from behind the shadow of the shinobi.

”I want to create a global business,” Alaric replied smoothly, ”using the Hyuga Clan Secret Ointment.”

Hiashi’s pale eyes narrowed instantly into dangerous, defensive slits. The request was so far removed from the expected demands of power, land, or military allegiance that it genuinely caught him off guard.

”That product is absolutely not for commercial business,” Hiashi rejected immediately, his tone ringing with finality. ”Its creation is an ancestral secret. The formula is so closely guarded that it is not even distributed to the branch family; it is shared and manufactured exclusively within the enclosed walls of the Main Branch. To sell it to outsiders is forbidden.”

”Everything is forbidden until the price is right, Hiashi,” Alaric countered effortlessly, entirely unbothered by the rejection. He took a final puff of his cigar, his blue eyes locking onto the patriarch with an unyielding, gravitational weight.

”If you wish to do business with me, and if you truly wish to free your daughter and your brother’s son from the curse of your ancestors,” Alaric stated, his voice brooking absolutely no room for negotiation. ”Then the Ointment is what I want. The complete, unredacted ingredients and the exact formula. That is the only form of payment I wish to accept for saving the soul of the Hyuga.”

”...”

Hiashi stared at the blonde anomaly. He searched the man’s relaxed, confident posture for any sign of bluffing, any sliver of weakness he could exploit to lower the cost. He found none. Alaric Jonathan Kenway was a man who held the keys to heaven, and he was demanding a medical recipe as the toll.

The silence stretched, heavy with the weight of centuries of tradition grinding against the undeniable promise of a better future.

Finally, Hiashi Hyuga closed his eyes. He let out a long, quiet breath that seemed to carry the ghosts of the Caged Bird Seal away with it.

He opened his eyes and gave a single, slow, definitive nod of his head. The contract was sealed.

”It is time for dinner,” Hiashi said simply, his voice stripped of hostility, returning to the polite, formal cadence of a host.

Alaric slightly chuckled, highly amused by the abrupt, deeply pragmatic shift in the conversation. He crushed the ember of his cigar against the ceramic tray, pushing himself up from his cushioned seat with a satisfied, easy grace. He gave a firm nod of his head in return.

”Alright.”

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