Seeing the Third Raikage still frowning in confusion, Tamura Hao felt increasingly at ease.
Good. He hasn't read them.
"Those are all novels I wrote," Tamura Hao finally explained.
"They're extremely popular—and very profitable. That one billion ryō is my author's royalties."
With that, he clarified that the source of his wealth was entirely legitimate.
After arriving in this world, he had spent a long time thinking about how to become stronger.
No cheat ability.
Average talent.
No clan inheritance.
That meant only one path remained—external power.
And the best external power was money.
Unfortunately, earning money in a world like Naruto—where even terrorists preached peace—was absurdly difficult.
That was, until he remembered the future literary masterpieces of Jiraiya.
Thus, his path was revealed.
Over the past few years, he had written novels nonstop, while also taking advantage of his childlike appearance to freely enter bathhouses and entertainment districts for "research."
Combining those experiences with the unique flavor of the ninja world, he produced a series of legendary yellow tomes.
The results were explosive.
They sold extremely well.
"Novels…?"
The Third Raikage looked dazed.
"Writing novels makes that much money?"
He turned to his aide Dodai, silently asking for confirmation.
Dodai recalled the dozens of yellow-cover masterpieces he had purchased using his entire stash of personal savings.
His expression turned strange.
"If he really is those authors," Dodai said slowly,
"then producing one billion ryō wouldn't be difficult at all."
What shocked him even more was the realization that all those novels were written by the same person.
And that person was ten years old.
Those books had first appeared five years ago.
Which meant this kid had already reached that level of enlightenment at age five.
A true prodigy.
The Third Raikage noticed Dodai's odd expression but didn't pursue the matter further. His attention shifted back to the A-rank intelligence.
"Then tell me,"
"what is this intelligence?"
Taking a deep breath, Tamura Hao spoke solemnly:
"I was sent here by Danzo Shimura."
"I was ordered to infiltrate Kumogakure and steal intelligence."
"But I was forced into it."
"My parents are already dead."
"And now that I am becoming a ninja of Kumogakure, I will be one for life."
This was the truth.
Originally, he had been a child from Konohagakure.
Because of his abnormal maturity—and because he successfully refined chakra at age three—he was noticed by Danzo's men and taken away for training.
At age five, he was planted in Kumogakure, replacing the adopted grandson of an elderly man.
That grandson had been taken away by Danzo's people.
The old man himself had long since been bought off and turned into a spy—and had died a year earlier.
Tamura Hao revealed this identity for one reason only:
He didn't want future trouble.
There was a fundamental difference between confessing before something was discovered—and explaining after exposure.
One was declaring loyalty and defecting to the light.
The other was an excuse.
No one would believe the latter.
He had no intention of being exposed later, then subjected to Kumogakure's infamous interrogation techniques, followed by genjutsu hypnosis or memory probing.
That was a nightmare scenario.
Being a spy was far too dangerous.
He wanted to be a good person.
The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere froze.
The Third Raikage, Dodai, and A all turned solemn.
Despite panic raging in his heart, Tamura Hao met the Raikage's gaze head-on, making his stance unmistakably clear.
Dodai and A said nothing, silently awaiting the Raikage's judgment.
Finally—
The Third Raikage laughed.
"Well said," he declared.
"You will be a member of Kumogakure for life."
"And you are my disciple."
Just like that, the tension evaporated.
Yes, the boy's identity was problematic—but not severely so.
More importantly, he had confessed voluntarily, delivered one billion ryō, and presented three battlefield-changing weapons.
His sincerity was undeniable.
Above all else, the Third Raikage valued the boy's mind.
If he could design such weapons now, what might he invent in the future?
His potential value was immeasurable.
If he were truly here as a spy?
Then the Raikage could only say—
Send a few more like him.
The moment the Raikage laughed, Tamura Hao nearly collapsed in relief.
His legs felt weak, his back soaked in cold sweat.
That pressure had been terrifying.
Dodai and A also relaxed.
They were quite fond of the kid—especially of those legendary yellow tomes.
If they were to suddenly stop updating forever, that would be a tragedy.
"Raikage-sama," Dodai said after some thought,
"we might be able to use his spy identity in reverse."
"We could feed Danzo intelligence that benefits Kumogakure."
As a strategist, Dodai naturally saw opportunity where others saw danger.
"You'll handle it," the Third Raikage said, nodding in approval.
As long as it benefited the village, everything was fair game.
"Take him for a full inspection," the Raikage continued.
"Check whether Danzo left any control measures on him."
"That man is dangerous."
"And everything that happened here today is top-secret."
"No one is to speak of it."
He gestured to his son.
"Yes, sir."
"This disciple takes his leave!"
Tamura Hao finally let go of the tension in his heart and followed A out.
After they left, the Third Raikage walked to the damaged wall.
Using a kunai, he pried out all the deformed projectiles.
Then, coating his fingers in Lightning Release, he deliberately stabbed each crater repeatedly—destroying the original damage patterns and making them resemble marks left by practicing Hell Stab.
Though this was his private training room, espionage techniques were unpredictable.
If anyone ever investigated this place and noticed something unusual, it could cause serious trouble.
Dodai sealed the three weapons back into storage scrolls and walked over.
"A very clever kid," he remarked.
"Extremely clever," Dodai agreed.
Whether it was the weapons, the novels, or today's gambit—
Everything demonstrated extraordinary intelligence and nerve.
"How long would development take?"
The Third Raikage's expression turned serious.
Those weapons were far from mature. Materials, structure, manpower, experimentation—everything required time.
Dodai had already considered this.
"At least five years for development," he replied.
"Mass production would require enormous amounts of steel, explosive tags, and trained ninja units."
"Altogether, no less than ten years."
"The principles are too simple. Once used, enemies will quickly analyze and replicate them."
"We'd only gain a single window of advantage."
"We'd need to push it decisively."
"Ten years…"
The Third Raikage sighed.
"Then they won't be useful for this war."
Regret flashed across his face.
The coming war would undoubtedly claim countless lives.
The previous Great Ninja War had already devastated Kumogakure—especially due to the betrayal of Kinkaku and Ginkaku.
Not only had they defected with their unit, they had killed many of their own—including the Second Raikage.
Defeating them had come at a terrible cost.
And this next war…
Would be no easier