"Can you tell me why you're visiting the various families?"
Sakumo Hatake finally broke his silence, his tone calm, though a flicker of confusion lingered in his eyes. He couldn't quite understand the child's motives.
But after all, Jaxon was still a kid. How complicated could his thoughts be?
And yet, something about him didn't quite add up.
"Nothing major," Jaxon said, munching casually on a skewer of roasted meat as he walked through the busy morning streets of Konoha. "I just plan to follow in my father's footsteps—opening up the future of Konoha's commercial market."
He glanced around casually, eyes scanning his surroundings as if he were searching for someone—or something.
"This path can't be walked alone," he continued. "Without protection, no one can go far, no matter how ambitious."
Sakumo raised an eyebrow beneath his mask, silently admiring the young boy's maturity. He was unlike any other child in the village.
Still, he couldn't help but ask, "If that's the case, why not just cooperate directly with Konoha?"
Jaxon chuckled at the question. He stopped walking, turned slightly, and looked Sakumo directly in the eyes.
"You're too honest, too straightforward," he said with a smirk. "Let me ask you something: do people work harder when they serve a village, or when they serve themselves?"
Sakumo paused. "Working for oneself... usually results in greater dedication."
"Exactly!" Jaxon nodded, satisfied. "People only work with heart when it's their own stake on the line."
"But," Sakumo interjected, "the village has rules. It provides structure—protection, resources—"
"And the village was built by clans," Jaxon interrupted. "So tell me, what's the difference between working with the clans and working with the village?"
"The village has a mission system," Sakumo argued. "You can issue official missions. We Shinobi—even if it costs our lives—will complete those missions."
"Then tell me," Jaxon said, suddenly stopping in his tracks. "Why are you standing here instead of Tsunade?"
His childish voice turned cold, but firm. His expression grew serious, a glint of sharp intelligence in his gaze.
Sakumo's breath caught in his throat. The meaning was clear.
Jaxon had paid for Tsunade's protection. He had trusted the mission system. Yet here stood someone else.
How did that align with the village's ideals of honor and sacrifice?
"My sincerest apologies," Sakumo said, bowing slightly. "On behalf of the village, I offer my regret. But I give you my word—as long as this mission falls within my purview, I will protect you with my life."
His voice rang with sincerity. Heads turned as he spoke aloud, his white Anbu gear drawing attention in the morning sun.
For someone in his twenties, a veteran of the First Shinobi World War, Sakumo's sense of judgment still lacked some refinement.
No wonder, Jaxon thought, he would one day take his own life over public criticism.
But Jaxon said no more. At this point, who followed him around didn't matter. He had more important things to do.
"I said yesterday I'm curious about Shinobi life," Jaxon said, his tone lighter now. "That includes the Ninja Academy. If it impresses me, I may invest."
He was already heading in the direction of the school. It wasn't hard to find. The school building stood tall near the village center, its red gates and sturdy design quite conspicuous.
Tsunade hadn't let him in yesterday. He had only seen the gates. But now, with Sakumo trailing behind him silently, he intended to take a closer look.
"This will require Hokage-sama's approval," Sakumo warned.
"I'm not here to break rules," Jaxon said coolly. "I just follow my curiosity."
He was beginning to find the loyalty and rigidity of people like Sakumo annoying. Everything was "ask Hokage," "get permission," "follow protocol." No room for initiative. No flexibility.
It was no wonder shinobi always danced on the edge of extinction.
Still, Konoha was relatively small right now. For someone of his status, a request like this could be approved in minutes—especially if money was involved.
And that's exactly what Jaxon intended. The current Konoha lacked proper infrastructure. Even the Academy, the core of the village's future, was far from complete.
The red-painted gates looked freshly maintained, but everything else screamed "under construction." The school building was four stories tall, unusually high compared to most homes, but the grounds weren't particularly large.
A large tree stood just outside the schoolyard. It reminded Jaxon of scenes he remembered—decades in the future.
Its thick trunk and strong branch extended over a small patch of land, about two or three meters high. But now, there was no swing hanging from it.
That would come later.
Historically, after Hiruzen Sarutobi fully consolidated power as Hokage, he expanded the Ninja Academy's graduation cycle from three to six years, claiming children shouldn't be rushed into war.
But that was in the future. The Second Shinobi World War hadn't begun yet. Right now, the cycle remained three years.
"Hm... Ah Fu!" Jaxon suddenly called out, waving his hand in the distance.
In the blink of an eye, a strong gust of wind swept through the area, and a figure appeared almost instantly at Jaxon's side.
It was like watching a meteor fall from the sky.
A man, around 50 years old, stood before him. His steps were quick but elegant.
He wore gold-rimmed glasses and had a sharp, intelligent look in his eyes. His face showed faint wrinkles—crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and subtle lines across his forehead—but they didn't detract from his composed and refined demeanor.
His suit was impeccably tailored. A black tuxedo with fine white trim, polished buttons, and a perfectly knotted tie.
Everything about him screamed "elite."
This was Ah Fu, the Hoshino family's butler. Loyal, composed, and more capable than most shinobi.
He bowed deeply.
"Young Master Jaxon," he said respectfully, "how may I assist you?"
Jaxon nodded, arms crossed. "Nothing major. Has the ramen shop payment been delivered yet?"
"Of course," Ah Fu replied. "The transaction was completed early this morning."
He adjusted his glasses slightly and smiled. "The servants were overjoyed, Young Master. Many of them came to me personally to express their gratitude. I've no doubt once the message reaches the main household, you'll be praised by all."
"I never imagined," he continued, "that the young master would consider the future of our servants and their families so thoughtfully. On behalf of everyone, I thank you again."
Jaxon smiled faintly but said nothing.
In truth, it had nothing to do with sentimentality.
He simply saw the long-term value.
If you want to control people, don't just throw money—throw hope.
Give them a reason to believe that their loyalty has meaning.
Make them dream. Make them feel they have a future.
That was how you truly controlled people.
And if giving some old butlers and cooks a chance to learn ramen made them happy? Good. That happiness would ripple upward. It would make the household more loyal.
It would secure his position in the family—not through bloodline, but through influence.
And now?
It was time to apply that same logic to the entire Village.
Øóffer going on for diamond tier
pàtreøn (Gk31)