Over the following weeks, the gears of Seijuro's illusion-born empire began turning faster.
In the capital, traders were giddy. Gold flowed like wine, spices that hadn't been seen since the Second Shinobi War were suddenly abundant, and ancient tomes once hoarded in fire-sealed vaults were "generously donated" for the sake of academic partnerships.
Of course, none of it was happening naturally.
Aizen's clone and Seijuro had deployed a network of invisible influence. Each step, each deal, each "randomly discovered" trade route had been carefully orchestrated months in advance. From the moment Kyoka Suigetsu was released into the world, every diplomat or merchant that even glanced into reflective surfaces tied to his anchor points had unknowingly joined the Spiral's growing web.
It was no longer just an illusion. It was belief.
And belief? That was more dangerous than war.
Land of Iron – Meeting of the Shogunate Council
The steel-armored samurai generals stood around a lacquered table, scowling at maps and trade estimates. Dozens of red arrows pointed toward Uzushiogakure. All voluntary trade routes.
Lord Kazeharu slammed his gauntleted fist down.
"This reeks of conspiracy. Why would every nation suddenly reroute trade through a war-torn island?"
The man who once fought Hanzo the Salamander could be seen. {I will not bother looking up his name cause fuck him.}
"The Uzumaki sealing formulae are formidable, and now that they're willing to sell it, this is not far-fetched. They are using the fact that the war is ending, alongside that every enemy village is weakened, to set up this trade," the man said with a thoughtful look.
Kazeharu frowned.
"Why now?"
"Use your brain, Kazeharu. The Cloud is no more, the Stone is crippled, Konoha is still regaining its followers' allegiance, and the Mist is too far away to intervene. This is... a good time for the Uzumaki to expand," the man who I shall not give a name would say, having clashed with Hanzo the Salamander, yet not being given a name because someone refuses to do a Google search.
Anyway, enough about what he thought the Uzumaki clan plan was... he was wrong. It wasn't that. This was simply Layer 1, of the 20-layer plan that had been implemented. Oh well, the world may never find out what he had planned for them.
Land of Wind – Daimyō's Private Chambers
The Kazekage stood at attention, arms crossed. He didn't trust nobles, and he trusted illusions even less. But even he had to admit—something was strange.
The daimyō's court was... too excited. Even the corrupt ones.
"We must build a Spiral Embassy in Suna immediately!"
"Divert 12% of our chakra crystal exports to Uzushiogakure—before the other nations monopolize the shipping rights!"
The Kazekage narrowed his eyes.
"Why the sudden rush?"
One of the advisors smiled too calmly.
"Because we saw the future, my lord."
Meanwhile, in the Spiral Capital...
Aizen's clone handed Seijuro a new list.
"Twenty-seven nobles from the Land of Water just bought land they think holds ancient chakra ley lines. We had some genin bury shiny rocks and old scrolls last week."
Seijuro snorted.
"Let them dream. As long as they keep spending."
He turned toward the Council of Reflection—a fake advisory body made up entirely of Aizen clones, shadow puppets, and one very convincing Reverse Henge monkey in ceremonial robes. Nobles and clan leaders alike were begging to be added to its non-existent meetings.
A scroll was unsealed on the table. The Spiral Coin was now being offered in platinum-grade denominations—usable for military contracts, resource bidding wars, and prestige purchases like rare bijuu bones and Uzumaki blessing seals.
Yes, blessing seals. Granted, Seijuro was now a sealing grandmaster... no... his level with seals couldn't be measured anymore. He was simply a sealing being.
So, his blessing seals did work in miraculous ways, yeah.
Plus, those trades he had made, and had the Uzumaki monopolize, meant that they basically owned this shit.
Think Transatlantic Slave Trade, but someone owned the oceans and every boat, and you had to pay said person a fee for their service. This was the Uzumaki.
And if someone was out of line—which 6 out of 10 times someone was—he'd unleash the mad dogs... i.e., the Kaguya clan on their ass, and soon enough they would sing.
Though the Kaguya clan left... no witnesses. Everyone would be wiped out.
But oh well, who was he to judge?
Though this wasn't enough,
Seijuro wasn't done.
He started sending forged visions.
Carefully crafted dreams, injected via micro-rituals and minor genjutsu pulses attached to coded letters and "gifted" heirlooms. Nobles, warlords, and even clan leaders began experiencing vivid, unshakable dreams—visions of the Spiral consuming the world, of them standing at its center as champions.
Each vision ended the same way:
A voice saying, "All you must do... is believe. And invest."
They woke up convinced it was destiny.
They didn't know Seijuro was watching the entire time.
He stood before his glass, smirking.
"Hope is the cruelest illusion," he muttered. "But damn if it isn't profitable."
And thus... in a few weeks... he struck gold.