He was conflicted.
There was no doubt—Uchiha Ren craved power.
But those gold-tier missions were completely out of reach for now, blocked by reality itself.
On the other hand—
The missions that rewarded ten draws…
Only one thing.
His dignity.
Ren sat there, deep in thought.
Ten draws.
That was nearly a full year's worth of accumulated chances.
Who knew?
Maybe he'd hit something extraordinary.
Luck existed.
Someone always got lucky.
So why couldn't that person be him?
—
Outside, Uchiha Raizen noticed the pounding sounds from inside the room had stopped.
After a brief hesitation, he quietly stepped in.
What he saw—
Ren sitting there with his eyes shut, hands clutching his head, lost in thought.
"Lord Ren, the luggage has been prepared."
Ren opened his eyes.
"Ah… Raizen."
"All ready?"
Then—
He hesitated.
"…That is…"
His voice lowered.
"…Are the widows in the clan… doing well?"
The words barely left his mouth.
Even asking felt like a violation of his own conscience.
Raizen blinked.
"Widows?"
Then nodded earnestly.
"Please rest assured, Lord Ren."
"The families of those who fell are properly cared for by the clan."
"Though we are not wealthy, ensuring three meals a day—with meat—is still within our means."
Ren nodded quickly.
"That's good. That's good."
"We absolutely cannot let the heroes of Konoha bleed on the battlefield… only to suffer at home."
The moment he finished speaking—
He wanted to slap himself.
What was he doing?
These were widows of fallen comrades.
And he—
Was thinking about them like this?
Disgusting.
Unacceptable.
Ren silently decided—
Those ten-draw missions…
Would be postponed indefinitely.
—
To break the suffocating awkwardness, he changed the topic.
"Come. Help me look through Tobirama's documents."
The two began searching the room.
Drawers.
Cabinets.
Hidden compartments.
After a thorough sweep—
Ren finally found it.
The Scroll of Seals.
And—
A large collection of correspondence between Senju Tobirama and the Fire Daimyō.
Ren flipped through them.
Carefully.
Then—
His eyes narrowed.
The total funding provided—
Thirty-one billion ryo.
But the official records submitted to Konoha's treasury—
Thirty billion.
"…He skimmed ten billion."
Ren's lips curled slightly.
"So Tobirama wasn't so clean after all."
Whether that extra ten billion had gone to the Senju clan—
Or directly into experimental research—
Was unclear.
But one thing was certain—
It was gone.
And experiments?
They weren't cheap.
High-level research consumed absurd amounts of funding.
Even Orochimaru, in later years, would go so far as to run an entire hidden village just to sustain his experiments.
"Lord Ren… this ten billion…"
Raizen's eyes were already glowing faintly.
That amount of money—
Could wipe out the Uchiha's debts entirely.
And still leave surplus.
This—
Was the advantage of having a Hokage from their clan.
Ren smiled faintly.
"Only heaven knows."
"Only earth knows."
"You know."
"I know."
Raizen immediately understood.
"Understood."
No further words were needed.
The money—
Would remain with the Uchiha.
After all—
Who knew how much Tobirama had siphoned off over the years?
—
With everything settled, Ren finalized his plans.
Tomorrow—
He would leave.
Personally.
To the Fire Daimyō's capital.
To collect what Konoha was owed.
—
The next day—
He set off alone.
Light travel.
No escort.
Speed mattered.
And more importantly—
If he encountered an enemy he couldn't handle—
Additional guards would only become liabilities.
He had no intention of repeating Tobirama's mistake—
Surrounded by protectors…
Only to die anyway.
—
After days of travel—
Ren arrived at the capital of the Land of Fire.
The aftermath of war was everywhere.
Refugees.
Starvation.
Desperation.
Bands of rogue shinobi and bandits prowled the roads.
He dealt with them casually as he passed.
The Land of Fire was still, at its core, an agrarian society.
Technology existed—
Barely.
Farming relied on manpower and livestock.
Transportation meant carts and animals.
Production levels resembled ancient feudal times—
Perhaps even worse.
And yet—
Certain advancements defied logic.
Electric lights.
Scattered power lines.
Strange fragments of progress that didn't belong.
By the time of Naruto's era—
Refrigerators.
Televisions.
Modern appliances.
All would appear within just a few decades.
The pace of development was absurd.
—
Within the capital itself—
Refugees were nowhere to be seen.
Ren glanced around.
Perhaps the officials had "dealt" with them.
One way or another.
But he didn't dwell on it.
The world was like this.
When weak—
You survive.
When strong—
You change things.
He wasn't there yet.
—
At the palace gates—
Ren presented his credentials.
The moment the guards saw the Hokage robe—
There was no hesitation.
Impersonating the Hokage here?
That was a death wish.
He was immediately escorted inside.
Through corridors.
Courtyards.
Endless layers of walls and gates.
Until he reached a side hall.
A plump attendant greeted him and gestured politely.
"Please wait here. The Daimyō will arrive shortly."
Ren nodded.
Then—
Looked around.
And froze.
"…Extravagant."
Even he—who had seen much—was momentarily stunned.
The palace grounds alone covered nearly half the size of Konoha.
The layered architecture was so vast he might have gotten lost without guidance.
And the interior—
Every beam.
Every pillar.
Every decoration—
Lavish beyond reason.
A single piece of wood here could sell for hundreds of thousands of ryo.
Jewels lined the walls.
Artifacts he couldn't even name.
A grotesque fusion—
Of feudal opulence and supernatural wealth.
And yet—
This system endured.
Because power enforced it.
Any rebellion of commoners—
Would be crushed instantly by shinobi.
Even a single elite jonin squad—
Could annihilate them.
Ren leaned back slightly.
"What a world…"
Then paused.
"…Wait."
"I'm one of the beneficiaries, aren't I?"
He chuckled lightly.
Never mind, then.
—
Time passed.
Footsteps echoed.
A middle-aged man, dressed in elaborate attire, approached—surrounded by guards.
The Fire Daimyō.
"Ah! A true hero in his youth!"
"To think the Uchiha have produced a Hokage!"
"Splendid! Truly splendid!"
His smile was wide.
Warm.
Almost exaggerated.
Ren responded smoothly.
Polite.
Measured.
Neither submissive nor arrogant.
Though their relationship was one of lord and subordinate—
In practice, both sides understood the reality.
The Daimyō didn't interfere in Hokage selection.
Whoever took the seat—
He simply approved.
After all—
Konoha was his blade.
As long as it remained sharp—
That was enough.
"Since the Hokage has traveled so far—"
The Daimyō spread his arms with enthusiasm.
"You must attend tonight's banquet."
"I will personally host a reception in your honor."
Ren smiled faintly.
The real negotiation—
Was about to begin.
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