Leo, now identical in appearance to Uchiha Madara and clad in the same iconic red Sengoku-era armor, walked calmly through the bustling streets of Konoha. The noon sun glinted off his black gloves and armor plating. His long, jet-black hair swayed gently in the breeze, trailing behind him like a shadow.
Naturally, such a unique and imposing figure drew attention.
Civilians turned their heads as he passed, whispering among themselves. His appearance, a strange mix of ancient warrior and mysterious stranger, stood out starkly amid the more modern shinobi attire of the Leaf Village.
"Is that guy... cosplaying?"
"His armor looks like it's from the Warring States period. He's got that old-school vibe."
"Who walks around looking that intense? Creepy, but kinda cool."
Leo heard it all but ignored the whispers. His gaze remained straight ahead, expression unreadable.
As he walked, fragments of conversation drifted from the crowds around him.
"Lady Tsunade is really the Hokage now, huh?"
"Yeah, after the Third died in the invasion... what a mess that was."
"I heard Jiraiya and that demon fox kid—what's his name? Naruto—they were the ones who brought her back."
"Well, it's a good thing. She's the granddaughter of the First Hokage, after all. Maybe she can bring some stability."
Leo's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Hashirama..."
He spoke the name aloud before he could stop himself. The moment the name passed his lips, something stirred inside him. His chakra pulsed. The [Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan] in his eyes threatened to activate on instinct.
That name—Senju Hashirama—triggered more than a memory. It triggered a feeling. A rush of emotion that wasn't entirely his own.
The strength of Uchiha Madara's memories—the emotions, the ambitions, the rage—they had fused into him, and sometimes, they surged up unexpectedly.
For a brief moment, Leo's mind flooded with a primal urge to seek out his old rival, to challenge him again.
But he exhaled slowly.
"I'm not Madara," he whispered. "I'm Leo."
The inner turmoil passed, and Leo regained control.
Just then, a flicker of movement caught his eye.
A group of well-known figures from the anime—now all too real—appeared in his line of sight. Based on what Leo remembered from the anime, he quickly identified them.
Akamichi Choza.
Nara Shikaku.
Yamanaka Inoichi.
Hatake Kakashi.
Might Guy.
Yuhi Kurenai.
Mitarashi Anko.
Sarutobi Asuma.
All elite Jōnin...
They were heading together into a barbecue restaurant just up the street. Leo paused, watching them.
"Looks like they're celebrating," he muttered. "Probably because Tsunade's finally taken up the mantle as Fifth Hokage."
His lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.
"How nostalgic... and ironic."
Without hesitation, he followed the group at a casual pace, approaching the same restaurant they had entered moments ago.
As he passed by civilians and a few off-duty shinobi, more hushed voices followed him.
"Hey, didn't he just pass us earlier?"
"Yeah, and I still say he looks like someone from the old legends. That armor's gotta be custom."
"He's definitely not from around here. Think he's from another village?"
Leo didn't care what they thought. His mind was already on the next part of his plan.
Inside the Barbecue Restaurant
The cozy aroma of grilled meats filled the air.
In a corner of the restaurant, the group of Jōnin had already taken their seats. Plates of raw meat and side dishes were set on the table, and the mood was noticeably lighter than it had been in recent weeks.
"Finally," sighed Mitarashi Anko, leaning back in her chair. "We get a break."
"Yeah," added Asuma with a bitter smile, exhaling smoke from his cigarette. "Between the invasion, the funeral, and Tsunade-sama's inauguration... it's been a hell of a month."
Though the wounds of the Third Hokage's death were still fresh—especially for Asuma, his son—there was a quiet sense of relief now that stability had returned.
"We've earned this," said Nara Shikaku, lifting a small sake cup in a quiet toast.
The others nodded in agreement.
The meat arrived shortly after, sizzling and marinated to perfection.
"Well then," grinned Anko. "No more talk about politics or paperwork—let's eat!"
With a flash of enthusiasm, she grabbed her chopsticks and began placing slices of meat on the grill. Akamichi Choza, as expected, was already a step ahead.
"You're always one bite ahead of me!" Anko laughed, mock-pouting.
Kurenai, calm and composed, smiled softly at her friend's antics. She sat quietly beside Anko, watching the others with a warm but distant look.
"Things might finally be looking up," she said quietly.
But just then, the sliding door creaked open again.
A cold breeze filtered in as Leo stepped inside.
Heads turned instinctively.
Every shinobi at the table felt it—the presence of overwhelming chakra, thick as fog. It wasn't visible, not yet, but to those trained senses, it was undeniable.
Leo stepped forward slowly, his boots tapping softly against the floorboards. He surveyed the group with calm curiosity, then spoke:
"The meat smells good. Mind if I join?"
A silence fell over the table.
Kakashi, who had remained mostly quiet until now, looked up from his book. His lone visible eye sharpened.
"Do we... know you?" he asked cautiously, slipping a hand toward his weapons pouch.
Leo chuckled.
"No. But you'll want to."
The tone wasn't threatening—just matter-of-fact. That made it all the more unnerving.
Choza, Guy, and Shikaku had all shifted subtly into defensive stances. Even Kurenai moved a hand to her hip, near her kunai pouch.
Yet Leo made no aggressive move. He merely walked up to an empty seat at the end of the table and sat down, calmly placing his hands in his lap.
"I'm not here to fight," Leo said after a moment. "I'm here to eat. And observe."
"Observe what?" Asuma asked, eyes narrowing.
Leo's gaze swept across the group.
"Power," he replied plainly. "And the people who hold it."
Another beat of silence followed.
Kakashi was the first to ease slightly, though he kept his guard up.
"You're not from this village," he said.
Leo smiled faintly.
"Not yet."
Anko raised an eyebrow. "Then who are you?"
Leo looked around, then leaned slightly forward, letting his eyes meet Kakashi's.
"Call me... Leo."
It wasn't the answer they expected—but it was all he offered.
Behind his calm demeanor, Leo's mind was already racing. These were powerful shinobi, true elites of the Leaf. Defeating any of them—or all of them—could easily qualify as a massive achievement in the system.
More achievements meant more sign-in chances. More sign-ins meant more power.
But not yet.
He wasn't going to throw away his opportunity by fighting the village's best in broad daylight. No—Leo was patient. Calculated.
He would wait.
He would learn.
And soon... the entire shinobi world would know the name "Leo."