And so, Akatsuki moved.
Konan stayed to hold the fort; everyone else set out.
That did not include Orochimaru.
It wasn't that Yorin heartlessly ditched him—Orochimaru had holed up in his lab, muttering, "The experiment is at a critical phase. Short of the world ending, I'm not coming out!"
His eyes burned with fanatic fire—one look sent a chill down your spine.
Yorin figured that by the next time they met, Orochimaru would likely have gone too far—maybe "Orochimaru" would be "Orochi-hime" by then.
Come to think of it, the new human vessel might be quite pretty—
Not that Yorin would make a move—
But Jiraiya? Jiraiya's still single… maybe he could play matchmaker?
Wouldn't that be a fine Naruto–Sasuke substitute?
The corner of Yorin's mouth curled with a pleased smile.
…
At the same time, Nagato wasn't smiling.
"I still don't understand."
They were on the road from Amegakure toward the Land of Rain's capital.
Thanks to Ame's recent "money-sprinkling," the road wasn't just mud but asphalt and slag—hardened pavement.
Such tarred roads were common in the Land of Fire; for a small-fry place like the Land of Rain, they were a novelty.
In Earth's China, even kids know the rhyme "To get rich, build roads first." Getting a bunch of shinobi who never finished primary school to grasp the importance of transport is another matter.
"Why target the daimyo?"
Nagato asked, "They don't have real power. Once we control the world's shinobi villages, forcing daimyo to heel will be trivial."
Yorin gave him a look. "You really think things will just continue smoothly because they should?
That roads will keep extending, wealth evenly distributed, food and necessities will keep flowing into the Rain so it becomes prosperous—is that your picture?"
"Isn't that how it should be?"
"If those daimyo and nobles are content, sure. But are they ever content?"
"Why wouldn't they be? Haven't they got enough already?"
Nagato found it absurd. "We've given them a reasonable share—in some places we even took the short end."
Yorin: "Exactly—and they'll say they got the short end.
Because they believe everything in this world belongs to them.
Rivers are theirs—so fishing freely is stealing from them.
Forests are theirs—so cutting wood is stealing from them.
Commoners are their slaves; fields are their land… and in that logic, how are our little merchants not stealing from them?
You think fifty–fifty is fair; they think you're overstepping, that you don't know your place.
Right now the Rain daimyo is probably shouting at his retainers: 'My money! They take two hundred thousand, I get one hundred thousand—and I'm to be grateful?!' Something like that."
At first Nagato was startled—then he understood. Yorin was right.
This world's vermin are indeed vermin—be it great nations or small, from daimyo down to lords, riddled with petty tyrants and hard-core bastards.
The shinobi world's tech may be at a second—even third—industrial revolution; its politics are still medieval.
After a brief silence, he smiled, confident. "No—they won't dare."
Daimyo and nobles use shinobi, despise shinobi—and fear them.
Barring desperation, daimyo and nobles won't lay hands on shinobi.
It's hard for shinobi to take more from daimyo and nobles; conversely, even if the nobles drool over shinobi-held interests, they'll negotiate a cut, not go hard.
Yorin: "Mm. What about everyone else?"
Nagato: "…?"
Yorin: "They won't touch Amegakure—but what about the commoners?"
Trade routes have lifted all boats; the bolder folks set up tea stalls by the road and make a few coins a day.
By the trickle-down, the whole Rain economy is improving.
Yorin: "So this peaceful world you want—what is it? Under heavy pressure, daimyo and nobles savagely exploit the people while the people lose all power to resist—living in fire and water every day—is that peace?
Is Akatsuki's 'justice' only for shinobi—ignoring everyone else?
Do we let daimyo and nobles trample the world at will?"
Nagato: "I think… I see your point."
He fell silent for the rest of the road.
They reached the capital at speed, then used the Third's signature Telescope Technique to peer into the council chamber.
And what do you know—it was exactly as Yorin predicted: the Rain daimyo was roaring at his bureaucrat–noble clique.
The wording wasn't verbatim, but the meaning was:
"My money!"
"White silver handed to beggars—sinful!"
"Peasants are like sesame—the more you press, the more oil!"
"They can eat dirt—why give them grain?!"
"From today—raise taxes! Eating requires an eating tax, walking a walking tax, speaking a speaking tax—even paying taxes requires a tax!"
Hearing such thunderbolts, Nagato's pupils quaked; he clenched his fists to strike.
Worse—next, the bureaucrats and nobles fell to their knees in unison:
"His Highness is wise!"
Not a single voice of dissent—not even a question.
Greed shone in their eyes; no need to ask—they planned to skim a little extra while enforcing the new levies, for "handling fees."
And nobles are "men of face"—they won't dirty their hands. Plenty of hatchet men will pay out of pocket for the honor.
Those hatchet men don't work from loyalty or masochism—they'll add a little extra there, too.
Add a little here, a little there, and a little more—and the Rain's commoners are blessed:
Selling sons, daughters, rice; selling house, land, self. Forget enjoying trade's benefits—living becomes impossible.
As for raising a banner and hanging them from their own beams?
No fear.
They have shinobi. Anyone stirs—one Great Fireball and it's instant GG.
"I see," Nagato murmured. "I understand the world's truth."
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— Currently You can Read 70 Chapters Ahead of Others!