"Tomita, who are these people?"
Now that Uchiha Nan had been promoted, he naturally moved into Uchiha Tomita's former quarters and officially began his life as clan head.
"Clan Head," Tomita replied respectfully, gesturing to the line of people standing nearby, "these are the Uchiha clan's accountants."
They were all professional accountants hired by the Uchiha—ordinary Konoha civilians.
As for why not a single one of them was an Uchiha?
The reason was simple.
Uchiha were good at cutting people down.
But these dry, complicated ledgers? Just looking at them gave most Uchiha a headache.
Tomita gave a subtle look.
The accountants immediately began reporting on the clan's current situation.
"Clan Head, as of now, the clan's weapons industry is operating at a sustained loss. Due to the war, Konoha currently owes over five hundred and thirty million ryō, for purchases of shuriken, kunai, explosive tags, and other equipment produced by the clan."
"Clan Head, the performance of clan-owned shops is likewise poor. Over thirty percent of tejints have overdue payments exceeding six months, totaling one hundred and thirty million ryō. The detailed breakdown is as follows—"
"Clan Head, compensation payments for fallen clan members have yet to be distributed. Many families are already causing disturbances—"
"..."
Four or five accountants stood there, rattling off numbers nonstop, flipping through their ledgers as they spoke.
Between the lines, their message was crystal clear:
Pay up.
Pay fast.
Pay a lot.
Nan's expression darkened.
I just took office and you dump this on me?
Surely the clan isn't going to go bankrupt under my watch.
"Enough," Nan said, rubbing his temples. "One sentence. How much liquid cash does the clan have left—and how long can it last?"
He couldn't take the chanting anymore. Just give him the conclusion.
"Approximately one hundred and fifty million ryō," one accountant answered.
"If we exclude compensation for fallen clan members, it should last… about one month."
Hiss—
That little?
Only one month?!
"Tomita," Nan turned sharply, "has the clan's fijinces really rotted to this point?"
He'd barely taken office and the treasury was already exploding—how was he supposed to play this game?
"Clan Head," Tomita said with a bitter smile, "you know this war has gone on for far too long. It's not just the Uchiha—every clan in Konoha is in the same situation."
Not only that—Konoha's shinobi hadn't been taking missions for a long time. Almost all forces had been deployed to the front lines, cutting off a massive source of village income.
Konoha had been kept alive purely by the clans bleeding—money and people alike.
Damn it!
"What about the daimyo?!" Nan snapped.
"The Fire Country daimyo—did he not pay?!"
Shinobi were risking their lives out there, and the daimyo wasn't coughing up money?
"The daimyo allocates twenty billion ryō annually to Konoha," Tomita replied.
"In the past three years, it was increased to twenty-five billion."
"But…"
He didn't need to finish.
It was obvious.
It was all gone.
The cost price of a single explosive tag was no less than three thousand ryō. In even a small battle, who knew how many were used every day?
Add to that countless kunai and shuriken flying across the battlefield.
And that wasn't even counting soldier pills, food, medical supplies…
This wasn't war.
This was setting money on fire.
Even burning cash wouldn't consume it this fast.
Konoha was completely spent.
If this continued, the village would collapse internally without any enemy lifting a finger. No clan could withstand this level of hemorrhaging.
Not to mention manpower losses—nearly an entire generation had already died.
"Don't worry, Clan Head," Tomita added quickly.
"The daimyo and Lord Tobirama had already reached an agreement. A massive sum will be allocated for Konoha's reconstruction."
They had no choice.
If the daimyo didn't bleed a little, Konoha might start considering whether it was time to replace him with someone more willing to pay.
In nearly a thousand years of shinobi history, there had been no shortage of daimyos who were… insufficiently generous—
And ended up quietly disposed of by their own ninja.
After all, they were all serving the Fire Country. If one daimyo died, there was always a son, a brother—someone who could inherit the title.
Seeing Nan's expression looking like death itself, Tomita hastily fed him a spoonful of reassurance.
A newly appointed clan head couldn't just quit because there was no money. That would be a colossal embarrassment for the Uchiha.
"How much?" Nan asked flatly.
"Lord Tobirama never said. It's classified."
Damn it.
That bastard Tobirama—don't tell me he planned to skim some off the top?
This enormous sum was now waiting for the next Hokage to distribute. Who got more, who got less—
One sentence from the Hokage would decide it all.
This time, the Senju couldn't be allowed to seize the initiative.
"Clan Head Nan," Tomita said earnestly, eyes blazing, "you must become Hokage."
His gaze was so intense it practically tangled.
Becoming Hokage meant controlling the allocation of Konoha's reconstruction funds.
Isn't that what clans wanted from the Hokage seat in the first place?
You could demand money from the daimyo openly, then distribute it. The clan skimmed a portion to cultivate ninja and strengthen itself.
And that was only the surface.
There were countless invisible benefits—
Mission allocation.
Land transactions.
Commercial intelligence.
These were powers only the top echelon possessed.
Every clan struggled within Konoha's framework to grab as much as possible, using it to nurture shinobi, grow stronger, and pass that strength down generation after generation.
Whichever clan produced a Hokage got to eat meat—big mouthfuls of it.
This was the closest the Uchiha had ever been to the Hokage seat.
They couldn't miss this chance.
The clan desperately needed to recover.
"I will become Hokage," Nan said firmly.
Not just for himself.
But for the clan.
And for Konoha.
In the original timeline, Sarutobi Hiruzen became Hokage—and what happened?
The Senju disappeared.
The Uchiha were annihilated.
Two great clans collapsed like beached whales, and the one feasting on the remains was the Sarutobi clan.
Damn it.
His own clan was fattened, while Konoha itself slowly withered.
"I believe in you completely, Clan Head Nan," Tomita said with conviction.
An Uchiha who had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan—who in Konoha could possibly stop him?
"Clan Head Nan," Tomita continued, bringing over a thick stack of documents, "these are the matters you'll need to handle."
They were the files Tomita had dealt with daily.
Personnel promotions within the Uchiha Military Police Force.
Street patrols throughout Konoha.
Espionage arrests.
And then there were the clan's businesses—important guests the clan head was required to receive.
Naturally, none of them were ordinary people.
Wealthy merchants.
Fire Country nobles.
One meeting, scheduled for the day after tomorrow, stood out.
A major merchant who had long cooperated with the Uchiha—responsible for supplying iron, the raw material for Uchiha weapons manufacturing.
Most likely, he was coming to collect debts.
The Uchiha had been in arrears for nearly half a year.
The last time he'd come, Tomita had drunk with him until deep into the night just to smooth things over—sweet-talking him endlessly and barely buying some more time.
Naturally—
This steaming pile of trouble was now Nan's headache.
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