137 Naruto Mobile Game

The rules of the Unlimited Class Tournament finals were very simple.

In the first round, everyone would fight one match. Those who won would enter the winners' bracket, and those who lost would fall into the losers' bracket.

That's right—losing didn't mean going straight home. There was still one chance to crawl back out of hell.

As for whether you could seize that chance, it all depended on your performance.

"Impressive, Sasuke. It's been a while—didn't expect you to get this strong!"

As soon as Sasuke returned backstage, he heard this. He glanced at Naruto but didn't react.

Naruto froze on the spot, then clenched his teeth.

Damn it! For him to jump out and praise Sasuke—his brain really must have short-circuited!

But to Sasuke, it honestly didn't matter. It was only the first round. He had merely defeated Orochimaru, that was all.

Soon after, when Orochimaru returned backstage, he was met with a variety of gazes.

He was expressionless as he returned to his original seat.

Kabuto hesitated for a moment, but in the end said nothing. Accidentally provoking Orochimaru would be bad.

"Kabuto, give me a share of the Gold Coin you earned." Orochimaru suddenly spoke, startling Kabuto into a cold sweat.

"Orochimaru-sama? Sorry..."

"You did very well."

"Huh?"

Kabuto looked completely confused and discovered that Orochimaru was actually smiling—not that gloomy, scheming smile he wore when plotting something.

It was an ordinary smile, as if everything was under control, a genuine smile from the heart.

Could it be... Kabuto's heart stirred.

"Looks like you've already guessed," Orochimaru said in a lowered voice. "That's right. I deliberately lost to Sasuke."

Kabuto's eyebrow twitched, but he didn't respond.

He wondered whether Orochimaru-sama thought the opponents in the losers' bracket would be relatively weaker, so he deliberately went there to secure a higher win rate.

Orochimaru didn't explain further, so Kabuto had no idea whether his guess was right or wrong.

Or was it that... Orochimaru was simply inferior in skill, and thus lost?

The next match began very quickly.

Two people were called up and walked out from backstage. Before long, they returned—one happy, one dejected.

This scene replayed itself repeatedly, each time marking the addition of another winner and another loser.

As expected, most of those who lost in the first round of the finals were competitors from smaller nations. They probably didn't believe they had much chance of winning it all anyway.

Meanwhile, all the major nations and other well-known contestants advanced to the second round—the winners' bracket.

Until...

"Tobi VS Namikaze Minato!"

When this pairing suddenly appeared on the giant screen, the entire finals venue fell silent.

The Yellow Flash, Namikaze Minato—the man who ended the Third Ninja World War, Konoha's Fourth Hokage, who sacrificed himself during the Nine-Tails incident and had recently returned to the world.

The mysterious masked man, Tobi—his most infamous deed was orchestrating the Nine-Tails incident, and the Uchiha clan's destruction also bore his shadow. To this day, his identity remained a mystery.

Now, could this be considered their second confrontation? Some couldn't help but think.

Backstage, the two stood up at the same time.

Everyone's gazes converged on them—curious, excited, strange, hostile... all kinds.

"Hey, Minato, I'm planning to have another real man's showdown with you!" A couldn't help but speak up. He didn't want Minato to lose here.

As soon as he spoke, those who knew he had once clashed with Minato during the war all showed interested expressions.

The Yellow Flash and... uh, the Raikage.

"Ah, there will be that opportunity." Minato turned back, smiled at A, and then walked toward the entrance tunnel.

Obito didn't move and remained where he was.

Pain: Deva Path glanced at Obito and said calmly, "He's the opponent you're most interested in, right?"

"He's nothing but a failure, not even worthy of being considered my opponent!" Obito said coldly.

The space here wasn't small, but it wasn't large either. Combined with how enclosed it was, and the fact that he didn't deliberately lower his voice, everyone naturally heard him.

"What the hell are you saying, you bastard!"

Naruto was the first to explode. If Kakashi hadn't held him back, he would've already rushed in with Shadow Clones and a Rasengan combo.

The people of Konoha all looked hostile, while those from other villages wore expressions of watching a good show.

In the end, everyone present had their grudges. Being able to calmly coexist in the same space already required suppressing their emotions.

"Isn't it true?" Obito showed no fear at all, spreading his arms in mockery. "He failed to protect his student, failed to protect his wife, the village was nearly destroyed... and you! Naruto! He single-handedly brewed your tragic childhood!"

These words were unusually hard, like nails hammered in—clearly something that had lingered in his mind for a long time.

Others didn't know, but Naruto was completely furious.

"My father... he was the Hokage! He protected the village and protected me! What right do you have to mock him?" Naruto roared.

"That's right," Kakashi also spoke, staring at Obito. "The one who caused all these tragedies—wasn't it you?"

Obito sneered and said nothing.

"You're saying all this before the match—what, are you scared? Trying to cover up that pitiful face under your mask?" Naruto suddenly spoke in a strange tone.

"What?" Obito was taken aback.

"Haha! You're wearing a mask anyway—what kind of expression you have is totally up to my imagination! Unless you take it off and prove it, ba~ka!"

"Well said, Naruto."

Seeing the two of them play off each other, Obito turned and left directly. No one knew what his expression was at that moment, but the fist hidden in his sleeve was clenched tightly.

Watching Obito's back disappear into the tunnel, Naruto curled his lip.

"You sneaky bastard—one day I'll rip that mask off you!"

Those who witnessed this scene showed no reaction on the surface. What they were thinking deep down, only they themselves knew.

...

Obito walked out of the tunnel, the lights shining down on him.

Looking at the nearly full audience below, he felt slightly uncomfortable—it gave him the illusion that he was a performer about to go on stage.

Suddenly, his eyes shifted as he noticed familiar faces.

Kushina was baring her teeth and claws, her red hair flying as she glared at him fiercely.

Beside her sat a young woman. She looked around restlessly, somewhat distracted, as if searching for someone.

When she saw Obito take the stage, the hands clasped to her chest tightened unconsciously, and a trace of complicated emotion appeared on her face.

Rin...

Obito's heart fell into momentary chaos. His steps paused for a split second before he hurriedly accelerated and walked over to Kuroda.

Kuroda glanced to the left—it was Minato. He glanced to the right—it was Obito. He couldn't help but ask inwardly.

System, did you do this on purpose?

The system gave no response. Ever since Kuroda's last verbal outburst, the system had gone silent—perhaps those words had deeply struck its fragile core chip.

"Ahem. You Chakra bars are old acquaintances. As the first contestants of the second round, is there anything you'd like to say?" Kuroda asked.

Minato smiled and indicated he had nothing to say.

However, he also noticed Kushina in the audience. Feeling a bit excited, he couldn't help waving at her, instantly triggering a burst of excited screaming from Kushina.

The surrounding audience was completely baffled, their heads full of question marks... a fangirl seeing her idol?

Kushina snapped back to her senses and hurriedly covered her red face with both hands, looking extremely shy.

Minato scratched his cheek, thinking she was so cute.

Obito, standing off to the side, wore a completely speechless expression the entire time.

Back then, when the Nine-Tails strung you two together, maybe it wasn't without reason—perhaps it was revenge for how much you loved showing off your affection.