Chapter 62: Synthetic Mangekyō
Ren stood in front of his bathroom mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored charcoal suit. He stared at his own reflection. Spinning lazily in his blood-red irises were three perfectly symmetrical, pitch-black tomoe.
"Three years," Ren muttered, leaning against the marble sink. "Three years of a strict morning routine, treating a legendary, trauma-induced bloodline like over-the-counter allergy drops."
It had worked perfectly. By micro-dosing the Synthetic Optic-Chakra Catalyst into a daily saline solution, he had bypassed the Uchiha’s mandated psychological torture and safely fortified his optic nerves to handle the power.
But three tomoe wasn’t going to cut it tonight. Not against Kamui.
Ren checked his gold pocket watch. 11:45 PM.
The masked fanatic was coming. It was time to get those eyes.
He opened the Shinobi Tycoon System and navigated straight to the Bloodline Evolution tab.
[Mangekyō Synthetic Awakening Catalyst] - Cost: 250,000 BC.
He hit purchase.
A heavy crystal vial materialized in his palm, swirling with thick, metallic-red fluid. Ren didn’t hesitate. He popped the stopper, tilted his head back, and squeezed two heavy drops directly into his eyes.
The reaction was instantaneous.
"Fuck," Ren hissed through his teeth, gripping the edges of the sink as the marble cracked under his hands.
It felt like pure, boiling battery acid had been injected straight into his retinas. Blood immediately wept from his tear ducts, spilling over his eyelashes and trailing down his pale cheeks. But thanks to his three years of preparation, his brain didn’t snap. There was no psychotic break, no Curse of Hatred. Just raw, localized physical agony.
A few seconds later, the burning receded into a cold, razor-sharp ache.
Ren opened his eyes and looked back into the mirror. The three tomoe were gone. In their place, a sharp, symmetrical geometric pattern had forged itself into his irises—an interlocking three-pointed gear that looked like the center of a vaulted coin.
The mechanics of his new ocular assets registered in his mind with perfect corporate logic.
Left eye: Red Ledger. A precognitive threat-audit. It allowed him to visually read hostile intent and predict exact, split-second vulnerabilities—perfect for tracking the millisecond Obito had to become tangible.
Right eye: Black Vault. A flawless, untraceable spatial inventory. It wasn’t a standard sealing trick; it was an entirely separate pocket dimension exclusively under his jurisdiction. To use it, he simply needed to make physical contact with an object and infuse it with a faint signature of his Mangekyō chakra—a "mark." Once marked, his right eye could suck the item into his private dimension and spit it back out instantly. It functioned exactly like an inventory in an RPG, completely bypassing the physical limitations of storage scrolls.
Ren narrowed his eyes. He needed to test the logistics.
He reached out and picked up the empty crystal vial from the counter. Channeling a tiny sliver of chakra into his fingertips, he left an invisible mark on the glass.
He focused his right eye. Black Vault.
The space around the vial warped. With a sharp, spiraling distortion, the glass vial twisted into a miniature vortex and vanished completely into thin air, pulled directly into his separate dimension.
Ren shifted his focus to his empty palm. He pulsed his right eye again. A spatial rift snapped open, and the vial dropped perfectly back into his waiting hand.
It was seamless, instantaneous retrieval.
But the moment he caught the vial, a sharp, stabbing pain spiked directly behind his right pupil. A fresh, warm trail of blood leaked from his tear duct, running down his cheek.
Ren flinched, rubbing the blood away with his thumb. The power was absolute, but the physical cost of operating it was severe. If he spammed these abilities, the cellular degradation would accelerate and he would go blind.
High overhead, Ren noted pragmatically, feeling the throb in his skull. Only use it when the margins require it.
He grabbed a clean towel and wiped the remaining blood from his face. He walked out into his study and slipped into his midnight-blue overcoat. Reaching onto his desk, he picked up the small wooden box containing the Senzu bean fragment, applied his chakra mark to it, and sucked it seamlessly into the Black Vault for absolute safekeeping.
He checked his pocket watch one last time.
"Time to go to work."
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