As expected, Shimura Danzō had long predicted that Uchiha Yorin would pump out crowd-pleasing trash to boost subscriptions.
For newspaper sales, Yorin would even toss his face aside—he even dared to spread rumors about a four-way love affair between him, Hiruzen, Homura Mitokado, and Koharu Utatane. The old men and ladies were furious: "He's treating me like Obito—that won't fly."
So they clamored in front of Hiruzen to shut down the New Konoha Times, brand Uchiha Yorin a rogue-nin, and post a 10-billion-ryō bounty on his head.
Very unfortunately for them, this entirely "reasonable" proposal was vetoed by Hiruzen.
"I'm not the Hokage anymore," the old man said bluntly—nearly making the other old fossils explode.
They thought about going to Minato for a ruling, but didn't quite dare. In the past few days they'd shot down several of the Fourth's reform proposals; relations with Minato were lousy.
They may lack the ability to accomplish things, but their ability to sabotage things is formidable.
"Too expensive."
"Unnecessary."
"You say disabled ninja lack death benefits and can't afford onigiri—why don't they eat minced meat instead?"
In this climate, going to Minato would earn them nothing but mockery.
Besides, everyone knew Minato and Uchiha Yorin were like two men in one pair of pants. Outsiders might even think Yorin was Minato's very own Danzō. Asking him to smack Yorin was pointless—it'd be quicker to swing clubs themselves.
So all they could do was grumble, "The youth these days—no respect for their elders," and scatter like birds and beasts.
…
Strictly speaking, Yorin running a virility-tonic ad on page one was a shade better than slandering the Third with a four-way romance.
But Danzō cared more about the former than the latter.
As the so-called Darkness of the Shinobi, his shamelessness rivals Yorin's. He'd lived his whole life with no wife, no kids; slander about a tawdry romance wouldn't faze him.
Orochimaru was different.
Wood Release, Sharingan—the power Danzō craved was trifling compared to the legendary Sage of Six Paths.
But to Danzō, the "God of Shinobi" was a legend he'd seen with his own eyes, while the Sage was a hazy myth.
None of this could be allowed to go wrong. He even began to regret letting Uchiha Yorin into Anbu; if he could do it over, he wouldn't.
He thought he'd bagged an Uchiha; in reality, he'd driven a nail straight into his own weak point. The funniest part: he'd hammered it in himself.
"When did this guy get so chummy with Orochimaru?"
Danzō couldn't help the thought. "No—I need to go ask Orochimaru and get the truth!"
The "Blame-Kage" twisted the paper into a wad, tossed it into the office bin, and stormed toward Orochimaru's secret lab.
As soon as he left, the previously motionless Anbu operatives flickered to the bin in unison and reached for the paper ball.
Two Anbu caught one corner each and refused to let go. They looked up at each other's slightly ridiculous masks.
"You want it?" ×2
"No, just taking a look." ×2
After that exchange, neither let go, so came the next:
"Kidney deficiency?" ×2
"No! You're the one with kidney deficiency!" ×2
"Then why are you reading this?" ×2
"Just curious (totally not)." ×2
And so the two read together, clicking their tongues at Ryūchi Cave's ancestral "secret recipe," sincerely hoping Orochimaru-sama's experiments would succeed.
Of course, they didn't need it—the main thing was those brothers suffering in silence, despised by girlfriends or wives; they needed it.
…
Thus, Uchiha Yorin's plan succeeded—but not that much.
For Orochimaru's Ryūchi-style ancestral tonic, everyone's stance was "interested—but not that interested," and certainly not eager to let anyone see they were interested.
It seemed the ninja world wasn't yet enlightened enough to discuss kidney-tonics and virility out loud. Not everyone is as shameless as he is, after all.
Uchiha Yorin: "Miscalculation."
Orochimaru: "Yes, a miscalculation."
After a while of running the New Konoha Times pieces, the patron they'd hoped would show up with a bag of cash to fund their research never materialized.
Aside from the Third occasionally dropping oblique questions, no one came forward.
Yorin summed it up:
The ad flopped partly because people were thin-skinned; the other reason was that today's big-money marks haven't developed the investment mindset of later capitalist eras.
Unlike the boom times of the 20th century—when capital would stampede toward any cool invention, stuffing your hands with cash and exclusive contracts—now it's different.
Today, rich nobles and daimyo are far more interested in hoarding land and expanding estates than investing in virility tonics…
As for the big merchants, Yorin had little connection with them and no prior dealings—but he could guess their thinking:
Their power, clout, and wealth aren't enough. Rather than back fresh projects, they prefer to stick to familiar trades and politically attach themselves to powerful nobles.
"Things aren't quite as you imagined, Yorin-kun." Orochimaru smiled at him—leaving the rest unsaid:
If the situation isn't what Yorin expected, then this bankroll Danzō can't be killed. Orochimaru wouldn't play along with Yorin's plan against Danzō.
Uchiha Yorin: "It's fine. I've got step two."
If the mountain won't come to me, I'll go to the mountain. If capital won't extend an olive branch, I'll go knock on its door.
Uchiha Yorin: "Of course, we'll need to rebrand a bit. 'Virility tonic' doesn't sound great. Call it kidney-nourishing and vitality-restoring, rejuvenating youth—that goes down smoother.
We're not selling a virility drug; we're selling a health supplement."
He said calmly, "So—can you pull this off, Orochimaru-kun?
And once it's done, can you spin up a production line fast and drive the cost down?"
Yorin had decided: if no one would fund him, he'd fund himself.
Orochimaru: "No problem, Yorin-kun." Once again, he didn't disappoint.
"But you know…" He didn't finish the sentence, but Yorin understood.
If they failed again, their partnership would be finished.
Uchiha Yorin: "Don't worry."
"This time, we won't fail."