Senju Tobirama read the short story several times before reluctantly setting down New Shinobi, then murmured with meaning, "Good. This little story is truly excellent. I didn't expect that Uchiha Makoto, that inherently evil Uchiha brat, could have such insight. Knowledge is power."
"If a policy this good continues, the overall quality of shinobi in Akatsuki Village will far surpass that of Konoha."
"Frightening. Truly frightening."
Facts prove it.
There is no con that can't fool someone; you just haven't met the con that fits you. Even someone as sharp as Senju Tobirama was "brainwashed" by the content of this little essay.
What's more, the vignettes in New Shinobi always advocate positive energy—highly deceptive little tales. In an era of shinobi who have never endured information bombardment, they are practically weapons for swaying hearts.
And as a research maestro, Senju Tobirama knew the importance of education even more.
Academy students must be cultivated from childhood to seek and explore, then toil ceaselessly like him to develop all kinds of jutsu. If they only gnaw on the forebears' old stock, how can that do?
If the next generation isn't stronger than the last, Konoha will one day decline.
This concerns Konoha's century-long plan.
"New Shinobi may have something a bit 'off' about it, but it's not without merit. For example, the connotation of this story is lofty. Even I need to learn from it."
"Big Brother still has a point."
"In some aspects Konoha really does need to learn from Akatsuki Village's advanced experience."
So thought Senju Tobirama.
He temporarily set aside the idea of imposing controls on New Shinobi.
But then…
Senju Tobirama grew a little angry and embarrassed.
"Why didn't I come up with a policy this good?"
"As for budget, if we squeeze a little we can always find some. No matter how hard it is, you don't make the children suffer, and no matter how poor, you don't starve education."
Tobirama's view on education was utterly down-to-earth. When it came to village finances he always practiced frugality and spending only on the blade's edge, yet for cultivating the next generation he was willing to spend.
This blade is worth the money.
Only, he hated himself for not thinking of this policy before Uchiha Makoto. There were already rumors in the village about Senju Tobirama, people privately calling him a "plagiarist mutt."
"If I imitate Uchiha Makoto's policy now, wouldn't that nail down the label of copycat?"
"So annoying."
Senju Tobirama fell into a tangle.
He faced a dilemma.
He truly thought the policy was good. Even if they had to trim the budget, the village could barely manage. But the thought of actually plagiarizing Uchiha Makoto's good policy made him feel like he'd swallowed a mouthful of dog dung.
Just then—
"Lord Tobirama, shinobi from Akatsuki Village have come to visit Konoha."
"Akatsuki Village? What do they want? Bring their envoy in."
Senju Tobirama's face showed no smile. Though Konoha and Akatsuki Village were nominal allies, in truth they were allies only on the surface.
He had been waiting for a chance to quietly, without leaving a trail, kick Akatsuki Village while it was down. That damned village had swallowed fifty billion in Konoha funds.
That was Konoha's money.
A few minutes later.
Akatsuki's envoy stood before Senju Tobirama.
"Lord Tobirama, Lord Light Shadow will soon wed Uzumaki clan member Uzumaki Tsubaki Shizuku, and Akatsuki Village has formally forged a blood alliance with the Uzumaki. Lord Light Shadow sent me to inform Konoha."
"...?"
For a moment Senju Tobirama wondered if he'd misheard.
In his view, although it was regrettable that the Uzumaki hadn't joined Konoha, the relationship between Konoha and the Uzumaki was friendship without an upper limit. They didn't even need a so-called treaty. To force a metaphor, the two villages were close enough to share one protection.
How did a third party appear?
Is Konoha, with a treasure like Senju Hashirama, still not enough to satisfy and protect your Uzumaki?
Why would the Uzumaki cozy up to Akatsuki Village?
Betrayal.
This was naked betrayal.
An indescribable feeling filled Tobirama's chest. He began to understand what his sister-in-law Uzumaki Mito felt like at home every day. Damn the Uchiha.
"I understand."
"Konoha will send someone to attend."
Steadying himself, Tobirama forced the words out.
His tone was like that of a powerless husband.
"Why is Konoha so down bad?"
"The Uzumaki can ally with whomever they please. That is our freedom."
The Uzumaki's desire to wed into Akatsuki and form an alliance was entirely their freedom. Even as blood allies, Konoha could not wag a finger at this.
So Konoha was truly helpless here.
They could only watch as the Uzumaki and Akatsuki tangled together—and even smile and attend the ceremony in time. Konoha had no choice but to send people.
As the Uzumaki's blood ally, Konoha needed the bare minimum of decorum.
If they made the scene too ugly, outsiders would only say Konoha was unreasonable, then mount the moral high ground and point fingers.
But Tobirama certainly did not want to go. Just picturing Uchiha Makoto's smug grin made him itch to unleash his signature Flying Thunder God Slash on the boy.
Akatsuki's envoy left soon after completing his task.
"I don't want to go."
"And that brainless big brother probably won't grasp the meaning behind this. He'll cheerfully go to the wedding, but he just left on missions—several S-rank in a row—and surely can't attend."
Tobirama pondered who should attend Uchiha Makoto's wedding. As the invited party—Akatsuki's nominal ally and the Uzumaki's blood ally—Konoha couldn't send some marginal figure. It had to be leadership, someone of high enough rank, or tongues would wag.
After much thought.
He decided to have his sister-in-law Uzumaki Mito go as the stand-in. By status, she was Konoha's rightful First Lady of the Hokage. Her attending would give that evil brat Uchiha Makoto ample face.
And as an Uzumaki herself, she could use the opportunity to ask why the clan "strayed."
With Mito as the face, Konoha wouldn't feel embarrassed.
Two birds with one stone.
Having decided, Tobirama glanced at New Shinobi on the desk again, his mood sinking further.
A policy this good had to come from that bastard Uchiha Makoto.
And it happened to benefit Konoha.
"Call me a copycat then."
"But I'll tweak it a little so it's not so obvious. Change 1,790 ryō to 790 ryō."
For Konoha's sake, Tobirama chose to sacrifice his reputation, copying the policy with a slight modification, reducing 1,790 ryō to 790 ryō.
Why the change?
Because Konoha's budget was insufficient, and they could only launch a degraded version for now.
Two weeks later.
Light Shadow's office.
Uchiha Makoto tapped his desk, waiting for a reply from the daimyō of the Land of Fire. In these days the daimyō had written almost daily to discuss the salt monopoly.
Though the daimyō's letters painted everything as smooth sailing, Makoto could feel the pressure the man was bearing. The great nobles of the Land of Fire were not only foolish but greedy, utterly ignorant of the word "death." Several times Makoto asked with concern whether the daimyō needed him to "solve" some problems.
Each time the daimyō firmly refused.
He would rather spend extra time and breath bartering with the grandes than let Akatsuki's shinobi intervene further. Their filthy squabbles were merely internal contradictions among nobles; once shinobi entered the game, the situation would be very different.
Even with the black pot already placed on his head, the daimyō still strove to set things right.
He used Akatsuki Village only as a verbal threat.
Until the last resort, the daimyō would not let Akatsuki step in.
Before long.
Makoto received a letter from the daimyō. He tore it open and read from start to finish, smiling as he went, finally bursting into a full Uchiha laugh.
"Ha ha ha!"
"It's done!"
The daimyō and Akatsuki had spent great effort to make it happen. The daimyō coaxed many to agree, and Akatsuki had previously made a number of people simply vanish. The salt market, once a pot of porridge, was once more monopolized. With the parasites and layers of skimming removed, the profits of salt finally reappeared.
Akatsuki Village would take thirty-five percent of the dividends.
This month's profit alone would be at least more than four billion ryō.
Every month.
A steady stream.
It made money like a minting press.
Even if Akatsuki's shinobi worked themselves to death, pulling overtime on missions with the village taking a cut, they could never earn this much.
"No wonder in ancient Middle Kingdoms salt was a state monopoly, and selling private salt meant death, yet the trade never stopped—one batch after another licked blood off the blade. How is that different from the profits of powder. And the southern salt merchants were said to be as rich as nations, so extravagant they kept stables of 'slender mares' for play…"
After laughing, Makoto leaned back in his chair and sighed again and again.
Not only had Akatsuki raked it in this time, but the bigwigs who had complained nonstop fell silent and began singing the daimyō's praises.
Before, leeches at every level in the Land of Fire had to stir a spoon in the pot of salt. Now these people were gone, leaving only the top tier to sip the porridge. Compared to the past, the grandees were earning more.
From the daimyō's handwriting—dragon flying and phoenix dancing—Makoto could see his excellent mood. The man's efforts hadn't been wasted. Though the process was lousy, the result was good. Those nobles would have to thank him in private.
Considering salt's indispensability in daily life, prices could never remain so low. In the near future, prices would undoubtedly rise.
By how much?
Makoto didn't think those bugs in the Land of Fire would be so kind.
Though higher prices meant even more income for Akatsuki, Makoto still planned to hit the brakes at the key moment. Making money mattered, but at least let the cattle and horses afford salt. Still, for now, prices should rise.
With this steady stream of funds, Akatsuki could throw open its hands and lavish the nine hundred billion ryō it had saved. The little stories in New Shinobi weren't written for nothing. Abstract though they might be, if implemented they could indeed strengthen a village and raise the shinobi's overall quality.
The biggest issue was funds.
When the granaries are full, people know propriety; when clothing and food are sufficient, they know honor and shame.
Find ways to spread money, attract investment, draw more population and workers, provide more jobs, raise the village's GDP, and lift the people's standard of living.
Akatsuki's moon would remain the roundest in the shinobi world.
Akatsuki Village had been founded for over a year, whereas Konoha was older; by Konoha's calendar it was Year Two. Akatsuki's future was one of vigorous life and flourishing. Lord Madara, for Akatsuki's sake, hurry up and use Susanoo on Senju Hashirama.
Makoto reviewed his plan and found no problems, then continued reading the rest of the letter.
The latter half concerned his wedding.
In the previous letter, Makoto had informed the daimyō of his betrothal to Uzumaki Tsubaki Shizuku.
The daimyō gladly accepted the invitation.
He planned to come to Akatsuki in person to witness the marriage, though he felt some regret in his heart.
He had hesitated only a few months, and now Uchiha Makoto's wife, the Lady of the Light Shadow, had already been reserved.
In the shinobi world, great doors marry great doors, bamboo doors marry bamboo doors—status must match. Uchiha Makoto was born to a bloodline aristocracy; no one would think it improper for the daimyō's daughter to wed him. But the Uzumaki had gotten there first. To send his daughter as a concubine—the daimyō could not bear that shame.
But the wood was already carved.
The daimyō of the Land of Fire could only accept reality.
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