After an entire afternoon of nonstop work, Uchiha Nan and Uchiha Fūtan finally finished stamping all the falsified receipts and documents in advance. All that was left now was for the money to arrive.
When it was done, Nan propped his chin up with both hands and began talking with Fūtan about Konoha's future development. He genuinely wanted to hear Fūtan's thoughts.
After all, Nan was severely short-handed at the moment.
His only real foundation was still the Uchiha clan itself.
Fūtan could be considered one of the Uchiha's outstanding talents. He was strong in battle and highly capable when it came to managing the clan. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to shoulder the entire Uchiha clan after Uchiha Madara left.
Since Nan took power, Fūtan had also been tirelessly teaching him how to be a qualified clan head. Because of that, Nan held him in genuine respect.
"I think the most important thing right now is recovery and consolidation," Fūtan said seriously.
"First and foremost—shinobi… and missions."
"..."
Nan listened attentively.
Hmm.
Very traditional. Still the old-school approach—train more shinobi, strengthen Konoha's military power, squeeze more funding out of the Daimyō.
Being dependent on others.
Classic shinobi thinking.
But Nan couldn't really blame him. In this messed-up world, shinobi were raised to sharpen themselves, grow stronger, and survive by taking missions.
Another victim of the 'shinobi-as-tools' ideology.
What Nan wanted to do was far more ambitious.
Industry.
Agriculture.
Commerce.
Entertainment.
He wanted Konoha involved in everything—to turn it into a massive conglomerate, monopolizing resources and harvesting profits.
With overwhelming economic strength paired with cultural influence, Konoha would continuously export its own "universal values" to the shinobi world.
A strong Konoha would inevitably invite a coalition assault from the other four great villages.
If brute force alone couldn't dominate the world, then he'd rule it another way.
He wasn't about to sit around waiting for Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke to be born and save the world.
Most importantly—ideology.
The First Hokage's naïve ideals were far too outdated. They simply couldn't serve as Konoha's guiding philosophy.
Frankly, that man needed a crash course in nine years of compulsory education—especially politics and history.
"A great organization must have a lofty goal," Nan said calmly.
"Konoha's goal is naturally peace in the shinobi world."
"But to achieve that, we need military, political, economic, and cultural development. Our military strength speaks for itself—but politically, economically, culturally—we lag far behind."
"The first thing Konoha must solve is the economic issue. Trying to fight the Daimyō over land and food is pointless—they've been ahead at that game for a thousand years."
"So we must develop industry, advance technology, and raise productivity."
Nan spoke fluently, one point after another.
Keyboard politics—every citizen of the Rabbit Kingdom mastered this skill by default. Any college dormitory at night could randomly spawn great reformers, political thinkers, and military strategists.
Sadly, they could only debate in dorm rooms.
Nan wasn't a professional either—but all he needed to do was open the door. The elites of Konoha would naturally walk the rest of the path.
Fūtan sat there listening, sweat gradually forming on his forehead.
At first, he could vaguely understand.
Later… he had absolutely no idea what Nan was talking about anymore.
"Industry needs steel—steel is the lifeblood of industry."
"If we want to get rich, we must build roads. Konoha's roads need work—and in the future, we'll even develop trains."
"..."
Fūtan unconsciously opened his mouth, almost going 'ah… ah…'.
Even though he didn't understand a word, everything Nan said felt incredibly profound and high-level.
All he needed to do was nod.
"Fūtan, Konoha's future should be grand," Nan said earnestly.
"It shouldn't exist merely as a shinobi village. Do you understand what I mean?"
Fūtan swallowed.
Saying he didn't understand at this point would be too embarrassing.
"I… more or less understand," he replied carefully.
"But Nan-sama, aren't you thinking a little too far ahead?"
The First Shinobi World War hadn't even fully ended yet. Konoha's conflicts with Kirigakure and Iwagakure were only in a temporary ceasefire.
The future was uncertain.
"A man without long-term worries will have immediate troubles," Nan said seriously.
"There's no harm in thinking ahead."
"One who cannot plan for the whole cannot manage a part.
One who cannot plan for generations cannot govern the present."
Fūtan's eyes lit up.
"One who cannot plan for generations cannot govern the present… Clan Head, those words are profound!"
He truly felt his own thinking was shallow.
Perhaps only Uchiha Nan could lead Konoha toward a real future.
"Alright, let's stop here for today," Nan said.
"Notify the clan heads—there'll be a meeting tomorrow. The funds have arrived; it's time to distribute them."
"I've been gone these past days. They're probably anxious already."
Nan felt there was little more to discuss with Fūtan—their mindsets simply weren't on the same wavelength.
It was also time to recruit an assistant.
A certain pineapple-shaped head appeared in Nan's thoughts.
Nara Shikaku would be a good choice.
The Nara clan were born strategists.
Talking with him should be productive.
"Yes, Clan Head!"
Fūtan nodded.
These days, the other clan heads had been constantly probing him, trying to learn how much funding the Daimyō had allocated.
Naturally, Fūtan said nothing—always polite, warm, and utterly uninformative.
That evening, Nan returned home.
The previously cluttered courtyard had already been cleaned spotless.
"Master, you're back!"
"Yes, I'm back."
Feng and Ling stood at the door waiting for him. Nan casually patted both their heads—soft, smooth hair, surprisingly comforting. It felt like petting a cat.
"Nan, are these two massage therapists you hired?"
"Their technique is excellent. This cat is very satisfied."
Mangetsu strolled out with a feline gait, clearly unaware of their true relationship.
"Nope. They'll be living here from now on," Nan said with a grin.
"I'm officially taken now, little fat cat."
"What?!"
"You traitor!"
Mangetsu's eyes went wide.
Didn't they agree to be brothers forever? Whoever got a partner first was supposed to be a dog!
Nan laughed and teased Mangetsu for a while, while Feng and Ling went to prepare dinner. Fūtan had sent plenty of ingredients.
Before long, the table was filled.
Four dishes and a soup.
Nan sat down, while the sisters stood beside him to serve—making him deeply uncomfortable.
He wasn't a baby. Did he really need someone picking food for him?
"Sit."
"Since you're with me now, don't be so restrained. This is your home too."
Nan waved his hand and had them sit down and eat together.
He even considered changing how they addressed him—just using names would be fine—but the sisters absolutely refused, so he didn't force it.
That night, Nan lay with his head resting on Feng's lap, enjoying a gentle ear-cleaning.
Mangetsu sprawled completely across Ling's legs, purring as she stroked his fur.
"Nan, I approve of you being with them," Mangetsu said lazily.
"As long as they give me massages like this every day."
"Oh? That's great," Nan replied.
"No backing out later."
After that, Nan led Feng and Ling toward the bath.
A shared bath—something he'd always wanted to try.
After bathing, Nan eagerly returned to the bedroom.
Fūtan had been thoughtful—the bed was even bigger and softer than Nan expected.
Feng and Ling stood there wrapped in bath towels, cheeks flushed, speaking in unison:
"Master… please be gentle."
(The remaining ten thousand words are omitted.)
Outside the room, Mangetsu covered his ears with his paws.
"Damn it… that was reckless."
"My nest has been taken over!!!"
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