Ishiki Kujo was certain Rinka was still hiding something. But pressing her too hard wouldn't help—so, for now, he let things be. Time would reveal the truth.
Lately, while the public perception of the Police Force hadn't improved much, the Uchiha clan's reputation had seen a noticeable upswing.
The key to this change was that law enforcement was no longer monopolized by the Uchiha. People could no longer pin every issue solely on them.
The non-Uchiha members who had joined the Police Force went from doubting the Uchiha, to understanding them, and finally—becoming just like the Uchiha.
Brutal enforcement? In the shinobi world, that was practically standard.
Sometimes, in the village streets, if someone shouted "The Police are coming!", the crowd would scatter like startled birds and beasts.
Ishiki was no stranger to this phenomenon.
Was there a solution? Not really—at least, none that Ishiki could see.
And frankly, it wasn't his concern. His goal was to pull the Uchiha's reputation out of the ditch. They didn't have to become the village's darlings—but they should be able to live peacefully among the populace.
The change in law enforcers showed people that the Uchiha weren't the only ones with issues. Once other clans joined, complaints and accusations spread evenly across Konoha's elite.
It was as if the Police Force was some cursed sinkhole—everyone who joined became a "devil."
So, the Police made a bold decision: they disbanded one of the Uchiha-only squads and issued a public notice, announcing open recruitment from all Konoha ninja.
You think the Uchiha are the problem?
Fine. Let's bring in everyone.
If that just led to more complaints and grievances, then they'd go even further: form an entire squad composed solely of civilian shinobi.
Then, if villagers still thought law enforcement was the issue, what would that mean?
One: The Police Force had done its best to reduce violent enforcement.
But let's be real—this was the ninja world. Violent enforcement wasn't always by choice; sometimes, it was necessary.
Two: All operations and decisions by the Police Force were now fully public and transparent.
If someone wasn't satisfied, they could file complaints or reports with the Hokage's office. That office would respond accordingly. And if the results still weren't to their liking—well, maybe it was time to look inward.
Once again: this was the shinobi world. It wasn't a place where you could throw tantrums without consequence.
Under this transparent system, if villagers still had issues with the Police Force, Ishiki had only one move left—shut it all down.
If the people believed the Police Force caused more problems than it solved, let them experience Konoha without it.
And if things improved, Ishiki and Fugaku had already discussed disbanding the unit permanently.
In that case, the village would offer compensation, and the officers would be reassigned—some to the expanded ANBU, others to various units. Everyone would be accounted for.
After all, there weren't that many, and they all had valuable skills and experience.
Under Ishiki's continuous restructuring, the number of Uchiha in the Police Force had dropped to barely over a dozen.
Too few to make waves.
Especially now that the Uchiha's focus had shifted entirely to ANBU and Root. These two elite institutions were where the clan saw its future.
The Police Force might carry prestige, but those who worked the beat knew the truth.
Constant complaints. Verbal abuse. Isolation. It was thankless work.
To keep any pride in the badge under those conditions? Ishiki had never met such superhuman wage slaves.
The reason the Uchiha clung to the Police Force for so long was simple: they had no better option.
Now, in July, Ishiki pulled another useless Stand: Heart Lock.
And, to his surprise, the power embedded into the Corpse hadn't disappeared despite the three-month limit. The Corpse had opened a path for him to retain abilities permanently.
As for Heart Lock—it was completely dependent on whether the target felt guilt. If they did, a lock would appear on their chest. The heavier their guilt, the heavier the lock.
If they had no guilt, then the Stand did nothing.
Ishiki had no immediate enemies, so the power didn't matter much. If Danzō were still in the village, he might've tried it on him—just to see if the bastard actually felt any guilt.
But with Danzō gone, he saw no reason to swap out Ma Youyou just yet.
It was still useful to have it haunting Danzō.
Unfortunately, the Corpse's Eye couldn't project through Ma Youyou like his Shadow Clones did. Otherwise, Ishiki would be able to track both Ma Youyou and Danzō in real time.
But even without feedback, he could tell Ma Youyou hadn't succeeded yet.
He had no idea whether Danzō had found a countermeasure for it.
In JoJo, Ma Youyou was only stopped when Anasui used Diver Down to graft a frog's brain onto it, completely overwriting its thoughts and "froggifying" it.
But that move didn't exist in this world.
And replacing Ma Youyou's brain was no simple feat.
When Ishiki had first drawn Ma Youyou, he had tested it with various abilities—none worked. That's why he had ultimately used Heavenly Transfer Technique to send it away.
Illusions via Sharingan could briefly confuse it, but since Ma Youyou was fundamentally a mental construct with a strong sense of purpose, it quickly broke free.
And genjutsu-induced pain was useless. You couldn't scare something that couldn't die—it only got more excited.
Sealing techniques were also ineffective. Ma Youyou's corrosive power didn't just affect flesh—it dissolved materials too.
Anasui's clothes had been destroyed during their fight, remember?
Trying to seal it only meant whatever it was sealed inside would start melting away.
As for other solutions? Maybe Obito's Kamui could work—suck Ma Youyou into another dimension.
But aside from Kamui, Ishiki wasn't aware of any other space-time jutsu capable of creating an alternate dimension.
And Ma Youyou, being a Stand, seemed to operate under bizarre cosmic rules.
No matter how it was dismissed, it always came back—like it had some kind of space-bending passive.
That little pouch of its was like Doraemon's pocket. No matter how often it was beaten or blown up, it could always retrieve what it had stashed away.
Just like when Jolyne and Anasui beat it senseless, and it still pulled out a live frog.