Wherever there are people, there's a jianghu.
And jianghu isn't about fighting and killing—it's about favors, relationships, and unspoken rules.
The shinobi world is no different.
Why does a person struggle their whole life?
For money, of course.
Why do ninja beat each other bloody?
Same reason.
It's a high-risk profession. You gamble your life for hazard pay, all for the chance to live comfortably afterward.
Konoha's current predicament wasn't just a manpower issue.
It could be summed up in one word:
Money.
With money, there are people.
With enough money, one village fighting four others isn't a problem—it just becomes a contest of endurance.
If funding were sufficient, every shinobi could carry dozens—hundreds—of explosive tags. Meet the enemy, toss a handful, and call it a day.
How satisfying would that be?
Unfortunately, such luxurious fantasies were completely unrealistic.
Uchiha Nan leaned back in his chair.
The table before him was filled with exquisite dishes—color, aroma, and presentation all impeccable. More importantly, the venue itself was Konoha's most luxurious hotel, reserved specifically for hosting the Uchiha clan's important guests.
This single meal, in this place, had cost a full thirty thousand ryō.
Nan couldn't help but click his tongue.
For someone of his level, completing a standard A-rank mission would net several hundred thousand ryō—but even so, eating a meal like this still hurt.
Eat like this every day, and he'd go bankrupt in no time.
Thankfully, he wasn't paying out of pocket. The clan was footing the bill—after all, this was official Uchiha business.
"The guest arriving shortly is named Fujii Hiroki," Tomita explained at Nan's side.
"The Fujii clan controls a massive iron mine in the Fire Country and has long cooperated with the Uchiha."
"They have connections high up in the Fire Country's government."
"As for him personally—his temperament is quite good. I'm on decent terms with him."
Tomita went through Fujii Hiroki's background, preferences, and disposition in detail, sparing nothing as he instructed Nan.
Dealing with Fire Country noble families wasn't anything like being a shinobi.
As a shinobi, you just killed people.
As a clan head, you had to think about everything.
Now that Nan had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan and become the Uchiha's future, Tomita was holding nothing back. He poured all his experience into teaching Nan how to be a proper clan head.
For this engagement, Tomita had specifically accompanied Nan.
The Uchiha owed the Fujii clan a massive sum, overdue for quite some time. There was no doubt that some unpleasant words would surface at the table.
Tomita was worried Nan's youth and temper might get the better of him—relying on sheer strength and drawing his blade on the spot.
After all, the image of Nan casually tossing Lava Release into a crowd was still vivid in his mind.
Nan's temperament… really wasn't gentle.
If Fujii Hiroki were actually killed, things would spiral instantly.
Fail to collect a debt, then get murdered by the debtor?
Fire Country's nobility would unite and suffocate the Uchiha's business operations overnight.
That kind of precedent could never be set.
The nobles were afraid too.
Every major ninja clan in the Five Great Villages had accumulated mountains of debt during the war. If they all followed the Uchiha's example—killing creditors instead of paying—would the nobles have any way left to survive?
If the Uchiha dared to act lawlessly and become the first bird to stick its head out, the daimyos would join forces and show them the true power of money.
Bounties would rain down like a storm, and the Uchiha would be crushed under sheer economic pressure.
No matter how strong they were, the Uchiha were still just a single ninja clan.
Nan listened carefully, genuinely absorbing Tomita's guidance.
It was obvious Tomita was sincerely teaching him how to be a qualified clan head—revealing many hidden truths of Fire Country nobility that ordinary shinobi, who only knew how to swing blades, would never encounter in their lives.
Just then—
The door creaked open.
A middle-aged man with a round, well-fed figure stepped inside. Slightly overweight, dressed in bright, luxurious robes—clearly wealthy or powerful.
"Tomita! Long time no see!"
"Indeed—long time."
Tomita greeted him warmly, exchanged brief pleasantries, then introduced Nan as the Uchiha's newly appointed clan head.
Fujii Hiroki's expression shifted subtly, before immediately breaking into a broad smile as he introduced himself to Nan.
Nan responded with equal enthusiasm.
In his previous life, Nan had worked in sales. This kind of scene was so familiar it was almost nostalgic.
In this life, he'd spent most of his time honing killing techniques—figuring out how to cut people down more efficiently.
But now?
That old professional instinct snapped back instantly.
Wasn't this just dealing with a client?
Client-daddy, to be precise.
Uchiha Nan was extremely experienced at this.
Once seated at the table, Nan unleashed a barrage of refined techniques, serving Fujii Hiroki until he was thoroughly satisfied.
Tomita sat beside them, accompanying drinks, his eyes growing wider and wider.
This was unbelievable.
Too smooth.
Way too smooth.
Nan's flattering words flowed endlessly, paired with drinking toasts Tomita had never even heard before. Fujii Hiroki drank cup after cup, to the point where Tomita felt he was almost redundant.
At one point, Fujii Hiroki fulfilled his mission and brought up the outstanding debt.
Nan immediately launched into a heartfelt tale of hardship.
So exaggerated that even Tomita felt embarrassed listening to it.
As for repayment, Nan didn't deny it—once the funds from above arrived, the first payment would go toward settling the debt, principal and interest included.
At that point, Fujii Hiroki couldn't press the issue any further.
Then came more drinking.
Two against one.
With Nan's masterful "client-service" skills, plus jokes, banter, and universally beloved men's topics mixed in, Fujii Hiroki was soon completely disoriented—calling Nan "brother" with every other sentence.
"Brother's in trouble—how could I not help?"
"What are you saying? Don't worry about the debt—I'll handle it—hic—hic…"
"I still have some pull in the family. I'll extend supplies to the Uchiha for another month."
"..."
"Good big brother!!"
"Little brother toasts you another cup!"
"..."
Get it in writing!
Now!
Tomita moved with lightning speed, grabbing paper and pen from a waiter. The contract was signed on the spot—no chance given for Fujii Hiroki to sober up and regret it.
While Nan entertained the big client at the hotel, Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzō wandered Konoha's streets.
After barely escaping the battlefield with their lives, then getting thoroughly intimidated by Uzumaki Mito, the two decided to find a place to eat and talk—about Konoha's future.
Especially Danzō.
When he learned that Uzumaki Mito intended to support Sarutobi Hiruzen as Hokage, the knot in his chest finally loosened. Relief washed over him—followed immediately by a faint, lingering sorrow.
His mind drifted back to that moment.
If he had been the first to step forward and offer his life—
Would the Third Hokage be him instead?
Joy and regret tangled together in his heart.
It was the classic dilemma—
You fear your brother suffering…
But you also fear your brother driving a luxury car.
That was Danzō right now.
At first, he'd worried for Hiruzen.
Now that Hiruzen was about to soar, Danzō felt miserable instead.
A companion who had once stood shoulder to shoulder with him—snap—was about to become the village's supreme leader.
That hurt more than being stabbed.
Unfortunately, Danzō was being far too optimistic.
He didn't notice the villagers along the street—casting subtle glances their way.
Eyes filled with contempt.
And disdain.
Desperately begging for monthly tickets!!!
I want monthly tickets!
(Rolling on the floor tantrum)
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