"Snow Clan… Kaguya Clan… Kurama Clan…"
"Oh, right—almost forgot the Uzumaki Clan."
"…Might as well add the Hyūga Clan too. A wall not pried at is a wall wasted."
"..."
Uchiha Makoto sat alone in his room, slowly writing down the names of clans he intended to recruit for Akatsuki Village in the coming period.
In order to rapidly strengthen the village's overall power, his first targets were naturally clans possessing kekkei genkai.
Money couldn't solve every problem—
But it could solve most of them.
Previously, those major clans had looked down on the weak and obscure Akatsuki Village. Naturally, they preferred to join powerful villages like Konoha.
The shinobi world was brutally pragmatic.
But now, with nine hundred billion ryō injected all at once, Akatsuki Village—once completely unknown—finally had the confidence to court powerful clans.
If persuasion didn't work—
Then just throw money at the problem.
There would always be one or two great clans willing to make the jump.
Of course, discretion was required.
Acting too much like a nouveau riche would attract unwanted attention.
These so-called "honorable" ninja didn't dare raid noble estates—but they had no hesitation whatsoever when it came to risking their lives to attack another ninja village.
The First Shinobi War.
The Second Shinobi War.
Time and again, ninja villages fought until their heads were bloodied and their finances ruined—sometimes even ending up in debt—while the nobles stayed comfortably behind the scenes.
Even when wars were lost, the nobles often didn't lose an inch of land.
The daimyo's funding was pocket change—
Yet ninja were expected to fight to the death for it.
Makoto had no intention of playing that fool's game.
That system had to change.
I will earn money standing upright, he thought.
"Makoto-sama, His Highness requests your presence. There is an urgent matter he wishes to discuss."
A retainer of the Fire Daimyō entered the room and spoke respectfully.
"I understand."
Makoto set down his pen and followed the retainer to the daimyo's chambers. After a brief exchange, he learned the reason.
Konoha had arrived.
Not only Senju Hashirama—
But Senju Tobirama as well.
"Makoto," the Fire Daimyō said seriously,
"they're yours to handle."
"Konoha has stirred up enormous trouble. We must not let them panic and turn this into an armed confrontation with us."
Makoto smiled faintly and glanced at the daimyo's face.
Though the dark circles around the daimyo's eyes had been carefully concealed, his exhausted expression told the truth—he clearly hadn't slept well.
Most likely, upon hearing that Hashirama had come, the daimyo had spent the entire night imagining worst-case scenarios.
With the limitations of the era and the rigid conventions restraining shinobi, even someone as powerful as Hashirama had never seriously considered replacing the daimyo.
All he wanted was to build a ninja village and reduce endless clan warfare.
That dynamic wouldn't fundamentally change—even after the Fourth Shinobi World War.
Even when Uzumaki Naruto became the Seventh Hokage, and technology advanced at breakneck speed, turning the Five Great Nations into industrial powers—
Ninja villages would still remain politically constrained, operating within strict boundaries.
In short—
This world was profoundly absurd.
Makoto understood it clearly.
Hashirama and Tobirama coming together at this time could only mean one thing:
Konoha had kicked a hornet's nest.
The nobles had united to strangle Konoha economically, and the village had reached its breaking point.
This visit—
Wasn't to demand justice.
It was to beg for help.
If the Fire Daimyō chose to press the advantage now—imposing harsh conditions to restrict Konoha's development—
Hashirama and Tobirama would almost certainly grit their teeth and agree.
Thus, Makoto accepted the task.
But with one prerequisite.
"I need full authority from Your Highness."
"No problem," the Fire Daimyō replied immediately.
"You will represent me in negotiations with Konoha."
"Makoto—if you can stabilize the situation, even paying some money is acceptable."
The daimyo nodded repeatedly.
He had never expected Konoha to step forward at such a moment and draw all the fire.
If that thick-skinned Senju Hashirama was here to make demands, having Makoto stand in front at least created room to maneuver.
Makoto is truly loyal, the daimyo thought.
At such a critical moment, stepping forward to share his burden—
True loyalty.
Makoto smiled.
"Then, Your Highness, leave this matter to me."
Loyalty—
In the name of the Fire Daimyō, to do exactly as he pleased.
This was the power of information asymmetry.
The Fire Daimyō believed Hashirama and Tobirama had come to apply pressure.
In reality?
They were coming to negotiate on their knees.
Kneeling was good.
After all—
Makoto was standing.
"Brother," Tobirama said quietly to Hashirama as they waited,
"once we meet the Fire Daimyō, watch my signals."
"Konoha's situation is extremely dangerous. If news of mass mission cancellations spreads, public opinion will spiral."
"Once that happens, even clans that have already joined Konoha may withdraw."
"And then…" Tobirama's voice lowered,
"the Uchiha may develop dangerous ideas."
"That would be disastrous."
His face was full of worry.
Tobirama had poured immense effort into Konoha's current stability.
If it all collapsed now—
He couldn't accept it.
Originally, he planned to stay in the village to maintain order.
But leaving Hashirama alone to meet the Fire Daimyō at such a critical moment?
He couldn't bear the risk.
And there was no one else suitable to accompany him.
Letting Uchiha Madara come along?
Tobirama would rather die.
Choosing anyone else would be better than choosing Madara.
If Madara and Hashirama were together, Tobirama was convinced everything would explode.
Thus, left with no alternatives, he abandoned his post in Konoha and accompanied his brother.
This negotiation had to be quick.
Even if Konoha had to pay an enormous price—
They had to secure the daimyo's support.
"I know, Tobirama," Hashirama replied cheerfully.
"You've said this several times already."
"And do you really need to practice smiling in front of the mirror that many times?"
Hashirama nodded with his usual optimism.
Tobirama felt a surge of helplessness.
Do you think I want to practice smiling?
Who do you think this smile is for?
It's for you, for the Senju Clan—
And for Konoha!
Soon, the two were led by an attendant into a meeting room.
And then—
The moment Tobirama saw who was waiting inside—
The carefully practiced smile on his face froze completely.
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