The colossal, fearsome Nine-Tails, a being that could level mountains, had its enormous snout pressed firmly into the damp, metaphysical ground of the seal. It didn't dare twitch a single whisker. As long as that horrifying, crackling drill didn't make another appearance on its person, it was willing to do anything—even a full, naked fox dance!
Dignity? What was dignity compared to the soul-scarring agony of a posterior blossoming? Pride was a luxury it could no longer afford.
Hmph! Just you wait, you damned tanuki! the Nine-Tails seethed internally, already plotting to take out its humiliation on a easier target. The next time I see that Shukaku, I'll make him eat a drill-shaped Tailed Beast Bomb! If it couldn't beat Raimon, it would join him in terrorizing everyone else.
"If I find out you've been giving my nephew any trouble again," Namikaze Raimon said, patting the fox's massive head with a condescending thud, "you know what will happen to your fluffy backside."
"I understand! I understand perfectly!" the Nine-Tails yelped, its voice a comical mix of a whine and a rumble. "From now on, Naruto is my master! If he tells me to go east, I won't even look west! I swear on all my tails!"
Deep down, the fox was bitterly regretting not studying ninjutsu like that low-class Shukaku. If it could just master the Flying Thunder God, it would teleport behind this blond menace and give him a taste of his own medicine with a point-blank Tailed Beast Ball!
Less than half a minute had passed in the real world from the moment Raimon closed his eyes to when he reopened them. The malevolent red chakra cloaking Naruto receded like a tide, and the boy's body slumped to the floor, consciousness returning.
"W-what happened to me, dattebayo?" Naruto mumbled, rubbing his head in confusion. He had no memory of the Kyuubi's influence.
"It's nothing," Raimon said airily, waving a dismissive hand. "Just a naughty little fox acting up. I gave it a talking-to."
His casual tone made both Kakashi and Hiruzen Sarutobi twitch violently.
A 'little fox'?! Kakashi screamed internally. That 'little fox' could sit on me and I'd be a grease stain! He was acutely aware that his own teacher, the legendary Fourth Hokage, had paid with his life to seal that same 'little fox' away.
(If Senju Hashirama were present, he would likely have just scratched his head and asked, "Wait, can that Tailed Beast thing actually kill people?")
Ignoring their shell-shocked expressions, Namikaze Raimon dragged a rickety, dilapidated chair that looked one sneeze away from collapse and planted himself directly in front of Hiruzen and Kakashi.
"Now then, Hiruzen," Raimon began, his voice taking on a deceptively pleasant tone that promised nothing good. "Isn't it about time we settled accounts? I believe you're holding onto some funds that belong to the Namikaze clan."
Hiruzen felt a fresh wave of cold sweat. The money? That money has been lining the pockets of my Sarutobi clan for years! It feeds three thousand clansmen! There's no way it's coming out!
He remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. The vast fortune left by Minato and Raimon had been absorbed into the Sarutobi clan's coffers. Naruto's allowance was a paltry thousand ryo a month—just enough for the boy to not starve to death, banking on the fact that his Uzumaki and Jinchuriki vitality would keep him alive on a diet of expired cup noodles and spoiled milk.
Thanks to his and Danzo's machinations, no shopkeeper in Konoha would sell the boy anything of quality anyway. Even Teuchi's generous discounts at Ichiraku Ramen couldn't stretch a thousand ryo far enough to fill a growing boy's stomach for more than a few days.
"Not talking? Fine, I'll do the math for you," Raimon continued, his eyes glinting. "When I… departed, I believe I left behind roughly six billion ryo for Minato to manage." Of course, standard S-rank missions didn't pay that well. A significant portion of that sum came from his habit of using the Flying Thunder God to 'liberate' the treasuries of enemy nations during so-called truces.
"And Minato himself probably had over a billion in assets, wouldn't you say?" Raimon tapped his chin. "Oh, that's right! And then there's Mito-sama's inheritance. As the last Uzumaki matriarch, she certainly left a substantial fortune, which should have passed directly to Kushina, and then to her son."
Hiruzen's face was a mask of stoic calm, but internally he was reeling. How does he know all this? He's been dead for years! His suspicious gaze flicked to Kakashi, wondering if the Copy Ninja had been feeding information to this specter.
Kakashi, feeling the weight of the Hokage's stare, could only offer a bewildered shrug in return. Don't look at me! I'm just as in the dark as you are!
Seeing he would get no answers, Hiruzen's mind raced, scheming ways to neutralize this 'Rectum Ripper' once and for all.
Worst case scenario, I'll just strong-arm the Fire Daimyo for an advance on next year's funding, he thought. He would never dip into the Sarutobi clan's treasury. Money that went in never came out. A hundred billion was a staggering sum, but not impossible if he squeezed every source. He could have Danzo's Root 'persuade' a few timid nobles in the capital. Yes, that would work. He just needed to play for time.
Thinking this, a subtle, relieved smile almost touched Hiruzen's lips.
"What are you so happy about, I wonder?" Namikaze Raimon's voice shattered his thoughts. The blond man had caught the fleeting expression. "Planning something, old man?"
Politicians… Tch. Raimon mentally scoffed. In peacetime, their webs of deceit were hard to untangle. But in the shinobi world, there was one ultimate, undeniable truth: power was everything.
"Let's not waste any more time," Raimon declared, cutting through the tension. "I'll even do you a favor and round it down. Let's call it a nice, even number."
Hiruzen felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he's not as unreasonable as I thought. Perhaps we can negotiate this down to a manageable sum.
"Principal plus interest… let's say one hundred billion ryo. I think that's more than fair."
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Hiruzen Sarutobi shot to his feet, his composure shattering. His face turned a violent shade of purple. "ARE YOU INSANE?! WHY DON'T YOU JUST GO ROB A BANK?!"
"What do you think I'm doing right now?" Raimon replied, his voice dangerously calm. "I am robbing you. You thought you could steal from the Namikaze clan for over a decade, and I'm not allowed to collect what's owed? With interest?"
He wasn't going to budge an inch. Adding a single zero was a mercy, in his opinion.
"Impossible! It's utterly impossible!" Hiruzen snarled, his mind already racing to his last resort—unleashing Danzo and his Root upon this problem.
"So, you're refusing to pay?" The high-pitched whirring returned, louder and more menacing than ever. The electric drill that materialized in Raimon's hand was visibly larger and more volatile than the one he'd used on the reanimated Hokages. It cast a terrifying blue light across his face.
The sight of the drill instantly sobered Hiruzen. The sheer number of zeros had momentarily blinded him to his immediate physical safety. His politician's instincts reasserted themselves. Stall. Agree for now. Then let Danzo deal with him.
He slowly, reluctantly, lowered his pointing finger, his body trembling with suppressed rage. "F-Fine," he gritted out, the word tasting like ash. "But a sum that large… I will need three months to gather it."
In that instant, his plan was formed: extort the Fire Daimyo, demand massive reparations from Sunagakure, and have Danzo eliminate Raimon within the month. He'd get to keep the money and be rid of the demon. It was perfect.
Namikaze Raimon held up a single, unwavering finger. "One month. You have one month."
His voice dropped to a glacial temperature that seemed to freeze the very air in the shabby apartment. "If the money isn't in my hands by then, I will come and collect it myself. Personally."
Hiruzen felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. He truly didn't understand how a living person could sound so cold.
Oh, right. He wasn't living.
"Understood," Hiruzen forced out through clenched teeth.
"Little Naruto," Raimon said, his tone brightening unnervingly fast. "See our guests out."
His business was concluded. He was confident that a seasoned politician like Hiruzen would be 'sensible' about handling the revelation of Naruto's parentage from here on out.
Hiruzen's exit was swift, his pace fueled by a mixture of fury and terror. He almost wished he'd learned the Flying Thunder God just to get away faster.
But just as he reached the door, Naruto's cheerful, oblivious voice called out, stopping him in his tracks and nearly sending him tumbling down the stairs.
"Jiji! Wait! You forgot your milk!"