Money can't solve every problem.
But money can solve ninety-nine percent of the world's problems.
Uchiha Makoto watched vast sums flow out of his hands every day. Piled up, the money looked like little hills filling an entire room. The visual impact alone made his heart pound, yet he had to admit it felt wonderful to be the patron with the golden purse.
To satisfy the research needs of the tech nerds from the Land of Sky and from Takumi Village, Makoto poured a fortune into building the largest, most comprehensive research laboratory in the world.
Their first research task was how to produce explosive tags faster and more efficiently, lowering the production threshold. Ideally, it should become an assembly line in which each step could be separated and handed to skilled workers.
From now on, explosive tags had to be stockpiled in huge quantities for the First Shinobi World War.
The tech crowd found the topic interesting, mostly because the funding was plentiful. With money, everything goes smoothly.
Recruitment for Black Ops had also begun.
The results would not be announced publicly.
That was not only for secrecy but for the safety of the candidates. Shinobi who took part would receive their results in secret, along with a unique callsign and mask. All of this was stolen from Senju Tobirama's playbook.
No, wait.
Tobirama shouldn't have started building Black Ops yet. At the very least, he wasn't moving as fast.
Which means he's actually the plagiarist. Hands on hips, supremely justified, jpg.
To make Black Ops operatives willing to follow orders, Makoto waved his hand and granted every successful recruit a hefty settling-in allowance.
Moreover, he signed a formal decree under the title of Light Shadow.
If a Black Ops shinobi fell in the line of duty, their family's livelihood would not be left to their clan to cover.
Akatsuki Village would provide additional compensation.
With that step, Makoto's prestige surged throughout Akatsuki Village. Showing up and handing out money from day one, who wouldn't like a leader like that.
Buying hearts with silver is the simplest and most effective method.
If you want people to risk their lives for you, without enough benefit it's pure fantasy. First, copy a round of classic Kakashi-style playbook.
Previously, funds given to the clans went straight to clan accounts. Now the money landed in individual shinobi's hands, and the effect was incomparable.
Loyalty.
"How is the academy enrollment going?"
After meeting one by one with the successful recruits, Makoto asked Kazuma about the admissions process.
He had set hard requirements for each clan, demanding they send core scions to study at the academy.
Almost no one objected. To distinguish clan heirs from commoners, Makoto planned several elite classes dedicated to clan scions and exceptionally gifted commoner children, with top-tier instructors and resources across the board.
They would be trained as future frontline officers for the First Shinobi World War.
"Lord Makoto, everything is proceeding smoothly."
Kazuma nodded and reported on admissions.
Clan scions alone could never reach three thousand students. So far they had gathered around a dozen classes, roughly thirty students each. The vast majority would have to come from commoners, the children of families in the towns and villages around Akatsuki Village, solid families of the Land of Fire.
At its core, this garbage shinobi world is a cesspit.
Disasters and wars never stop.
Mortality stays high, and the more people die, the more families consciously or unconsciously have extra children to hedge the risk. Another reason is that when night falls in this era, with little in the way of entertainment, ordinary folk have nothing to do but fumble under the covers, with no contraception. Pregnant means you give birth.
The poorer they are, the more they bear, and the more they bear, the poorer they become. That's not just a saying.
At worst, they gamble on it.
If a child dies young, the family still has others.
If they grow up, they become usable labor. Whether farming or fighting for water, it's worth it.
So when Akatsuki shinobi went out to recruit and test children's aptitude, many families refused at first. But Makoto declared the school would be free and provide three meals a day, and then they agreed, even competing to have their children tested.
For illiterate farmers, survival is everything. Even if their children are likely to die as cannon fodder in some forgotten corner of the shinobi world, it still beats starving today.
Compared to being a farmer stuck in fields for life, becoming a shinobi is already a great stroke of luck.
"Well done. Keep going until you've enrolled all three thousand."
Makoto nodded, already planning the academy's curriculum. He didn't need to worry about the elite classes; the clans were experts at producing competent shinobi.
What concerned him were the commoner-born. The clan training systems wouldn't fit them well.
Unless they had some blood tie to a powerful clan or a lucky mutation, their talent would generally be mediocre. A lifetime of effort might get them to chunin at best.
In ninjutsu, the classic Three Basic Techniques, plus C-rank jutsu across the five basic natures, were enough. Moving up to B-rank would be difficult.
Same for genjutsu; C-rank would suffice.
Given their chakra reserves, after a few C-rank casts they'd be switching to fists. Makoto decided to put their focus on taijutsu, having Kaguya Clan specialists drill them hard.
Time waits for no one, and the First Shinobi World War was only a few years away. They would be the cannon fodder on the front lines of attrition.
For the sake of their lives, train them to the bone.
This would cause bodily wear and tear. They could bear it when young, but by forty or fifty their physical functions would plummet.
Considering the average life expectancy in the shinobi world isn't even thirty, that's effectively no side effect. In the eyes of some Black men in Africa, AIDS seems almost tame.
Some even treat the disease as a rumor, thinking it's a doctor's money-making trick.
"Yes, Lord Light Shadow."
Kazuma nodded without objection. He was already firmly bound to Makoto and couldn't run even if he wanted to.
"Kazuma, what do you think the Will of Light of Akatsuki Village should be?"
Makoto suddenly remembered something important.
A political platform for Akatsuki Village.
If you're copying one thing, you might as well copy it all. He began to ponder the Will of Light for Akatsuki Village.
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