Chapter 77 (Patreon)

Distributing money to win the people’s support was only the first step. The next was finding a way to earn that money back.

Otherwise, Konoha’s current treasury would not be able to sustain those benefits for more than a few months before running dry.

That was where the trade agreement requested by Kumogakure could prove useful.

Konoha could transport goods that were abundant in the Land of Fire but scarce in the Land of Lightning, sell them there, and then return with products that were plentiful in the Land of Lightning but difficult to obtain in the Land of Fire.

A single round trip could generate a considerable profit.

After that, they needed to get money circulating within Konoha itself.

If they wanted ordinary shinobi and civilians to spend more, they first needed to develop businesses worth spending money on. Dining and entertainment were the most obvious choices.

When it came to food, Konoha already had famous establishments such as Yakiniku Q—the Akimichi Clan’s favorite barbecue restaurant—and Ichiraku Ramen.

However, Yakiniku Q was too expensive for most shinobi to visit regularly, while Ichiraku’s small shop could only serve a limited number of customers each day.

Hot pot restaurants and fast-food shops would be excellent alternatives. They could offer inexpensive, filling meals in generous portions. Once those businesses became established, they could even be expanded into chains with branches throughout the shinobi world.

Entertainment offered just as many possibilities.

Konoha could hold monthly combat tournaments with separate divisions for Academy students, genin, and chūnin. That alone would be enough to attract most of the village’s civilians.

For less than the price of a meal, they would be able to watch shinobi battle one another. To civilians with few other forms of entertainment, such tournaments would undoubtedly become must-see events.

The participating shinobi would also earn additional income, so there would certainly be no shortage of applicants.

Beyond combat tournaments, Konoha could organize dance competitions and establish theaters for musical and stage performances.

Those performances would not even require shinobi. They could simply search among Konoha’s civilian population for talented singers, dancers, and actors.

If the Land of Snow could produce a famous movie star, there was no reason Konoha could not cultivate a few stars of its own.

By then, ticket sales and related merchandise would provide another substantial source of revenue.

As for wealthy jōnin and the major shinobi clans, Konoha could offer specialized private training courses.

Take the Uchiha Clan, for example. How many Uchiha could resist enrolling in a training program that promised to help them awaken the Sharingan without losing someone they loved?

Roy knew a considerable amount about Konoha’s major clans. If he designed several training programs specifically tailored to their abilities, there was little chance they would refuse to pay.

Of course, he would first need to produce a few successful examples.

Otherwise, the shinobi clans would never believe that an outsider’s training methods could surpass the teachings they had inherited over generations.

Finally, there was the civilian-service shinobi system.

That project depended on Hiruzen successfully simplifying the required ninjutsu. Once the modified techniques achieved the expected results, Konoha could begin training shinobi who specialized in agriculture and construction.

The services provided by those shinobi could eventually become another reliable source of income for the village.

Kushina sat inside the Hokage’s office, beginning her first day of work as the Fifth Hokage.

Roy remained beside her, helping refine Konoha’s first three-year development plan.

Meanwhile, somewhere beneath the Land of Fire—

Danzō slowly sat up on an operating table.

He shook his head, trying to clear the lingering fog from his mind. When he looked around and failed to find Orochimaru—the man who had performed the surgery—his expression immediately darkened.

At that moment, the door opened and Orochimaru entered the room.

“Danzō, how does your new arm feel?”

“Orochimaru, you bastard. Weren’t you concerned that something might go wrong while I was unconscious?” Danzō demanded coldly. “Don’t forget that I’m still the one funding your research.”

“If the transplant were going to fail, it would have happened immediately after the procedure,” Orochimaru replied calmly. “Since the operation was successful, there was no reason for me to remain here.”

Orochimaru might not care whether Danzō lived or died, but he placed tremendous value on his experiments.

The fact that he had felt comfortable leaving Danzō unattended while he continued working in the next room proved just how confident he was in the surgery’s success.

Danzō understood that as well, but it did little to improve his mood.

What Orochimaru said next made his expression even darker.

“I received word that the old man handed the position of Hokage over to Kushina.”

“What?! Hiruzen, that bastard!”

Danzō instinctively raised his hand, intending to strike something and vent his anger.

Before he could bring it down, Orochimaru spoke again.

“The arm grown from Hashirama’s cells may be stable, but the transplant is still fresh. If you damage it through your own carelessness, I will not accept responsibility.”

Danzō’s hand stopped abruptly in midair.

“To ensure long-term stability, you’ll need Yin Release chakra to counterbalance the powerful Yang Release chakra contained within Hashirama’s cells,” Orochimaru continued. “Until then, that arm is little more than decoration. If you draw upon its power carelessly, the cells may consume your entire body and turn you into a tree.”

“Hmph. I’m already aware of that.”

Danzō had witnessed enough failed experiments in the past to understand just how dangerous Hashirama’s cells could be.

When he first learned that Orochimaru had successfully cultivated a stable arm, Danzō had planned to collect several Sharingan to counterbalance its power.

However, before he could make his move against the Uchiha Clan, circumstances had forced him to abandon Konoha.

Undergoing the transplant without the Sharingan had been an enormous risk.

Now that he had become a missing-nin, however, his hatred for Hiruzen and his hunger for power meant he could no longer afford to reject that risk.

Transplanting Hashirama’s cells was only the first step.

As long as he carefully controlled how much power he drew from the arm, using it without the Sharingan should not be impossible.

Danzō understood the strength of Wood Release better than most. Against ordinary opponents, he would never need to draw deeply enough upon the arm’s power for its chakra to fall completely out of balance.

Even so, Danzō valued his life far too much to rely on that assumption alone.

He placed an additional seal over the arm, further suppressing the cells within it. Only after sensing that the erosion spreading toward the rest of his body had been reduced to a minimum did he finally relax.

“Danzō, what do you intend to do now?”

Orochimaru watched him with a faintly amused expression.

“My plans are none of your concern, Orochimaru,” Danzō replied. “How many of those puppets have you completed?”

“Suitable materials are difficult to obtain. I’ve only finished ten so far.”

“Only ten?” Danzō’s expression hardened. “What exactly did you spend all that money on?”

“They may be disposable puppets, but if you expect each one to possess the strength of a jōnin, the bodies used to create them must meet extremely demanding physical requirements,” Orochimaru answered without the slightest change in tone. “I also have very few people available to collect suitable materials.”

Orochimaru’s expression made it clear that he considered ten completed puppets an accomplishment.

Danzō was dissatisfied, but there was little he could do to force Orochimaru to produce more.

Back inside the Hokage’s office, Kushina was nowhere to be seen.

Shikaku Nara and Fugaku Uchiha had taken her place behind the mountains of waiting documents.

Fugaku had initially believed that being entrusted with a portion of the Hokage’s authority would be something worth celebrating.

Once he actually began doing the work, he realized just how miserable the position truly was.

That was despite Shikaku sitting nearby and handling half the burden.

Fugaku could only conclude that Uchiha Madara—and his own younger self—must have been out of their minds to desire the position of Hokage so badly.

Senju Tobirama had made a mistake as well.

If Tobirama had simply allowed Madara to serve as Hokage for a few days, Madara himself would probably have been the first person demanding to step down.

Why would he ever have bothered defecting from Konoha after experiencing this much paperwork?

Kushina had clearly understood the situation far better than either of them.

On her very first day in office, she had delegated her authority to her advisors and gone home to enjoy some peace and quiet.

In truth, Kushina had not gone home merely to rest.

The three-year plan Roy had created could be handed over to others for implementation, but Konoha urgently needed a large amount of money.

The village could not afford to wait for the plan’s long-term projects to begin producing revenue. Without an immediate injection of funds, Konoha’s finances would soon fall into deficit.

The fastest way to obtain money was, naturally, to take it from someone else.

Of course, as the dignified Fifth Hokage of Konoha, Kushina could hardly commit outright robbery.

At the very least, she needed a legitimate justification.

Roy had consequently provided her with a suitable target.

Gatō, a wealthy merchant operating in the Land of Waves.

At present, Gatō had not yet seized control of the Land of Waves’ maritime trade. Even so, he had already amassed a vast fortune through smuggling contraband and conducting illegal transactions.

The Daimyō of the Land of Waves had already begun to view Gatō as a threat.

As long as Konoha contacted the Daimyō and hinted that it could help remove Gatō, the two sides would most likely be able to reach a mutually beneficial agreement.