The man finished explaining the meaning of "going all in" to Shimura Danzō.
Danzō listened carefully, finally understanding the phrase. He repeated the words slowly, as if tasting them:
"Going all in… is a kind of wisdom?"
After mulling it over—
Although he still didn't fully grasp the deeper meaning behind the phrase,
For some reason, he felt it sounded incredibly right.
"Young man," someone said earnestly,
"if you have a great ambition, you'll have to struggle countless times. But real opportunities only appear once or twice in all those attempts."
"When the chance comes, you have to seize it—go all in."
"You're still young. Even if you lose, it's no big deal. Worst case, you start over."
"Go big, and finish early!"
"..."
Voices chimed in from all sides.
Classic motivational rhetoric.
In truth, it was little more than dressed-up hype.
But the speculators in the room were experts at this sort of thing. Words like these flowed effortlessly from their mouths.
After all, it was just boasting.
What was there to be afraid of?
If someone truly believed it—and actually struck it rich—then it would become a story to brag about later, maybe even bring unexpected benefits.
And if someone lost everything?
That wasn't their money.
Someone foolish enough to lose it all deserved it anyway.
"Well said!"
"Exactly! Youth should charge forward fearlessly!"
"If you're not hot-blooded when you're young, can you even call yourself young?"
"Yes, yes!"
Laughter and cheers followed.
The atmosphere in the room quickly heated up, filled with joy and excitement. After all, everyone here was making money.
Humans were, after all, social creatures.
Not only did they seek groups—they could only truly function within society.
Immersed in this environment, Danzō was quickly influenced by the crowd. Listening to the rousing slogans, his overheated mind began to wander.
"Thirty thousand ryō in profit—earned in just one night."
"If it were ten million invested, that'd be three million in profit."
"And if it were a hundred million… thirty million!"
"Making money is as easy as breathing!"
A wave of regret surged through him.
Thirty million ryō.
If he continued doing missions the traditional way, he might not earn that much even in ten years.
Of course, this was only fantasy.
He wasn't insane enough to pour all his funds into something unfamiliar on his first attempt—especially since the money wasn't truly his. It belonged to his clan, and to the village.
If he made money, everyone would be pleased.
But if he lost it—
He would pay dearly.
Shaking his head, Danzō tried to banish the chaotic thoughts from his mind.
Yet the idea of increasing his investment—of going all in—had already taken root.
Time passed in a flash amidst the boasting and chatter.
Before he knew it, noon was approaching.
No matter how reluctant he felt, Danzō had to leave. It was almost time to meet up with Sarutobi Hiruzen again.
Still—
He had no intention of telling Hiruzen about the three hundred thousand ryō he'd made from the tulip trade.
"I'll make money quietly…"
"And shock everyone when the time comes."
"Let Hiruzen regret it all by himself."
With that thought, the corners of Danzō's mouth lifted. He even began humming softly as he headed toward the rendezvous point.
"Danzō, how did your task go this morning?"
The moment they met, Hiruzen asked about Danzō's procurement progress.
But since Danzō had spent the entire morning drinking tea and boasting in the tulip exchange, he responded just as he had the day before:
"Uh… about the same. Ran into a bunch of profiteers. But that's normal."
"…Is that so?" Hiruzen said, momentarily stunned.
The Danzō before him looked energetic and cheerful—nothing like someone who'd accomplished nothing all morning.
You didn't close a single deal, yet you're this happy?
That's strange…
"Hiruzen, why are you staring at me like that?" Danzō waved him off.
"Come on, let's eat. I'm starving."
"I worked all morning. Today's my treat."
"…You should've said that earlier! Let's go!"
Danzō had no desire to tangle with Hiruzen further.
He deployed his secret weapon—free food.
As expected, it worked perfectly.
Meanwhile, inside the Fire Country's palace
"Makoto, you finally made it," the Fire Daimyō said, sitting back on a cushioned seat.
"Look at this letter. What do you think we should do?"
He handed the letter to the man who had rushed in overnight—Uchiha Makoto.
This matter couldn't be discussed by correspondence. It had to be handled face to face.
"Your Highness, there's no need to rush," Makoto replied calmly.
"Let me read it first."
Makoto read through the letter.
In truth, the contents of Senju Tobirama's letter had already been summarized in the daimyo's urgent summons.
But the daimyo had filled in far too much with his own imagination.
Who knows how much of that was inaccurate?
After finishing the letter, Makoto roughly grasped the situation.
At present, Konoha's trajectory wasn't very different from the original course of events. The only difference was that, due to Makoto's promotion of the "Senju Hashirama threat," Konoha had yet to formally cooperate with the Fire Daimyō.
To Makoto, this was extremely advantageous.
The later the daimyo cooperated with Konoha, the slower Konoha's development would be.
As for the letter's mention that Senju Hashirama intended to personally visit the daimyo—
That most likely meant Hashirama would come bearing gifts, humbly requesting cooperation.
If the daimyo refused, Hashirama might even swallow his pride entirely to achieve his goal.
No rush.
This letter could sit for a while longer.
Let Konoha wait.
Let things brew a little longer.
Moreover, when negotiations between the daimyo and Konoha eventually took place, Makoto had to find a way to insert himself—ensuring the daimyo maintained his suspicions toward Hashirama.
As he pondered this, the daimyo's voice rang out again.
"Makoto… as the Fire Daimyō, I really don't want to meet someone as dangerous as Senju Hashirama."
"So… why don't you take care of him for me?"
The daimyo spoke casually.
In any case, he didn't want to meet Hashirama.
What if, during negotiations, Hashirama suddenly smashed his teacup on the floor?
The Fire Daimyō had no intention of putting himself in danger.
"…Me?"
"Cough—cough!"
Makoto choked, staring at the daimyo.
You old fool.
If I really had the ability to deal with Senju Hashirama—
The first thing I'd do would be to deal with you.
Then I'd put on your robes myself.
A man born between heaven and earth—
How could he live forever beneath another?
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