"Far too kind, far too kind."
"This is nothing more than a trivial trick."
"After all, not just any random person is qualified to challenge Konoha."
Uchiha Nan spoke modestly, though the smile on his face never reached his eyes. His scarlet Sharingan swept toward the Fire Daimyō, making the man's scalp prickle with unease.
"Of course, of course!"
"The prestige of the Uchiha Sharingan is known throughout the entire shinobi world—who hasn't heard of it?"
The Daimyō nodded repeatedly, fully grasping Nan's unspoken warning. Even if Konoha was no longer at its peak, it remained the undisputed strongest force within the Fire Country.
"Men, carry Xuankong away!"
"Useless trash—looks impressive but accomplishes nothing."
Daimyō turned his head. The obsequious smile vanished in an instant, replaced by cold impatience as he ordered his attendants to drag away the unconscious Xuankong.
Seeing that his show of force had achieved the desired effect, Uchiha Nan relaxed his expression, returning the smile and resuming a warm conversation with the Daimyō.
They talked about everything.
The Daimyō complained endlessly about the hardship of ruling the country—
how his ministers deceived their superiors and oppressed their subordinates, falsified accounts, seized land, evaded taxes, and embezzled funds.
All of it is my money!
Uchiha Nan nodded along in agreement, wearing the perfect look of empathy while lamenting his own difficulties.
Being a shinobi was hard.
Being Hokage was even harder.
Rolling through blades and fire, one careless step away from death—human suffering, it seemed, could sometimes resonate across positions.
Men chatted like that.
From history to warfare, from warfare to aliens, from aliens to the origin of the universe—free and unrestrained. And inevitably, the topic circled back to women.
"Did the Hokage enjoy the gift I sent last night?"
The Daimyō wore a knowing smile. Uchiha Nan returned it in kind—no words needed.
"If the Hokage likes that sort of thing, I still have—"
The Daimyō's eyes flickered, clearly extending another invitation. To people like them, women were the cheapest commodity.
If a few could be used to tighten relations with Uchiha Nan, he would spare no expense.
For a brief moment, Nan's mind flashed to that ridiculous three widows task.
Then he immediately rejected it.
Too twisted.
He still had a shred of dignity he wasn't ready to throw away.
"No, no…"
"Greed is dangerous."
Nan waved his hands and firmly declined. The Daimyō looked slightly disappointed but did not press the issue.
They chatted until lunchtime, and the Daimyō naturally insisted that Nan stay for the meal.
Since he was already here, Nan didn't refuse. Besides, the Daimyō's chefs were genuinely excellent.
After eating, Nan made sure to pack some food for Feng and Ling back in the room. Food that even the Daimyō himself enjoyed—this was likely their first time tasting it.
The sisters stood nervously in the room, waiting.
The man before them was a shinobi—no, the Hokage of Konoha.
They didn't fully understand what Hokage meant, but they knew very well what shinobi were.
People who could kill with a gesture.
Rōnin who slaughtered civilians without restraint—things they had not only heard of, but witnessed.
"Thank you, Master."
Feng, the elder sister, gathered her courage and stepped forward to accept the food box. Even with the lid closed, the aroma leaked out irresistibly.
"Gulp."
Both sisters swallowed hard.
They had been tormented half the night before and barely ate breakfast. Their stomachs were growling, yet they didn't dare open the box without permission.
"Eat. What are you staring at me for?"
"There's cream cake at the bottom. I figured you'd like it."
"I still have business to attend to. After lunch, stay in the room and don't wander around."
After giving a few instructions, Uchiha Nan left. He still needed to take the Daimyō's authorization slip to the Ministry of Fijince to collect the funds.
The moment the door closed, the sisters eagerly opened the box.
"Sister, it's so sweet!"
Ling licked the cream off the cake—soft, smooth, and sugary.
Sugar itself was a luxury in these times. Ordinary civilians were lucky just to eat their fill. Sweets were reserved for nobles.
Cream cake was practically unimaginable.
"Mhm."
Feng nodded. The sweetness eased some of her fear about the future.
Our master seems like a good person…
Uchiha Nan exited the palace and headed straight for the Ministry of Fijince, authorization in hand.
Ministry of Fijince
The room was packed with account books.
Each clerk had stacks piled high before them, abacuses clicking nonstop in a chaotic rhythm.
A middle-aged man in black robes sat lazily to one side, belly protruding, sipping tea with nothing better to do.
This idle?
Then he must be in charge.
"Where's your minister?"
Nan walked straight up and asked.
The man looked up, saw the Hokage robe, and instantly sprang to his feet, smiling broadly.
"The minister is inside handling affairs. I'll take you to him immediately."
Nan followed him inside and found the minister—also drinking tea.
The moment the fijince minister saw Nan, he rushed to greet him. Nan cut straight to the point.
"T-This… this is difficult, Hokage-sama!"
As soon as he heard the figure—three hundred and twenty billion ryō—the minister's smile froze, turning into a face full of misery.
"The treasury is empty! Disaster relief, resettling refugees—there's drought in the north, floods in the south…"
Excuses poured out endlessly.
In short: no money.
Or rather—not now.
They wanted to drag it out.
Damn it.
Wretched parasites.
The minister rubbed his fingers subtly.
A bribe.
They were even daring to skim from military funds.
Greedy and suicidal.
"One million ryō."
Nan raised a single finger and named his price. After all, this man was a high-ranking official—basic courtesy still applied.
"Tch."
The fijince minister chuckled lightly and raised five fingers instead.
"Fifty million ryō."
…Looking for death?
Nan's Sharingan opened instantly.
"Hokage-sama, don't get angry. This is standard procedure."
"I'm not asking for extra. We'll make the books spotless—no one will ever find out."
Uchiha Nan smiled faintly as the Sharingan spun.
Moments later, the fijince minister crawled up from the floor, shaking violently, terror filling his eyes.
No more talk of kickbacks.
Funds transferred.
Fake accounts prepared.
Receipts stamped.
The entire process completed at lightning speed.
"Filthy trash."
Nan spat on the minister's face and walked out without a second glance.
"Safe travels! Safe travels!"
The minister shouted after him, far too late.
—
Though belated—
happy Qixi Festival, everyone.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon
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