"According to verified intelligence, the Land of Rice Fields has recently suffered attacks from multiple ninja villages, including Kumogakure, Kirigakure, Amegakure, and others…"
"The casualties are severe. Konoha strongly condemns these actions and calls for unity across the ninja world to build a shared future…"
"Next, we bring you a field report from yesterday—"
"Hello everyone, we are currently in the Land of Rice Fields. Konoha's rescue team has just saved survivors from Kumogakure ninja. Let's hear from them…"
"Waaah… the Kumogakure ninja aren't human… they're butchers! Our entire Sato clan—over three hundred people—gone in a single night…!"
"Thank the Konoha ninja… thank you…"
—
Inside the Hokage's office, Uchiha Ren watched the television with great interest.
The program—
"Ninja World News."
After more than two months of heavy investment and with the help of the industrial faction, Konoha had successfully deployed signal base stations across the Land of Fire.
Thanks to Senju Tobirama's technological innovations, just a handful of stations could cover entire cities.
The signal range was astonishing.
Konoha had focused its resources on major urban centers.
And under Senju Momoka's management—
A functional television network was born.
"Lord Hokage," Nara Shikaku said as he entered, holding a letter, "the Daimyo has sent an urgent message."
"He condemns Konoha's negligence and demands immediate military action to suppress the chaos in the Land of Rice Fields."
"I see."
Ren didn't even look concerned.
"Our rescue teams are already there."
"Didn't he watch today's Ninja World News?"
"Konoha ninja are doing their best to protect the Land of Rice Fields."
Shikaku remained silent.
He knew the truth.
This entire situation—
Was orchestrated.
Blame shifted.
Narrative controlled.
It was shameless.
And brilliant.
Within the Land of Fire, anyone who owned a television—
Daimyo, nobles, merchants—
Would believe it.
The victims had spoken.
The "evidence" was clear.
Kumogakure was guilty.
And soon—
The entire ninja world would think the same.
Konoha—
The benevolent savior.
"TV sales?" Ren asked.
"Demand far exceeds supply," Shikaku replied, unable to hide his excitement.
Production couldn't keep up.
Even with high prices—
People were eager to buy.
Konoha's reputation had built trust.
Every new product—
Was a hit.
"Good."
Ren nodded.
"Work harder these next few days."
"The year-end is coming."
"I've prepared three weeks of vacation for everyone."
"If the work isn't done…"
He smiled faintly.
"You understand."
"You wouldn't want to come back during your holiday… right?"
Shikaku's expression stiffened.
"I understand, Hokage-sama."
"Excellent."
"Oh, and what about Kakuzu and Hatake Sakumo?"
"They've already met with Iwagakure and Sunagakure's agents," Shikaku reported.
"They've set up a shell company in the Land of Lightning."
"They plan to act during the New Year crowds."
"And Kirigakure?"
"The tensions with the bloodline clans have eased slightly… but the rumors persist."
"Conflict is inevitable."
Ren nodded.
"Understood."
Shikaku quickly left.
Work was piling up.
There was no way he was sacrificing his holiday.
—
Ren stepped out of the office, beginning his routine inspection.
No slacking allowed.
Employees must work hard—
So the boss could relax.
Even Senju Momoka was busy.
His desk was buried in paperwork.
Five shadow clones—
Working simultaneously.
Efficient.
Impressive.
Ren gave a thumbs-up.
Momoka glared back—
And spat on the ground.
My daughter…!
Ren graciously ignored it.
"Momoka," he said casually, "how's preparation going?"
"The Village Gala rehearsal?"
"Let me see the program list."
Work was work.
Momoka handed over a sheet.
"I Offer Bananas to Konoha?"
A poetry recital.
Written by a poet from the Land of Grass.
A tribute to Konoha.
Ren raised an eyebrow.
There's no way that guy wrote this himself.
Ghostwriter.
Definitely.
Still—
Good enough.
The program lineup looked solid.
Elegant performances.
Popular entertainment.
Balanced.
"'Blue Bird' must be perfected," Ren said. "It's the finale."
"And security must be tight."
"Important guests will attend."
"I'll have Uchiha Tomita assist you."
"This is critical."
He emphasized every detail.
This gala—
Was more than entertainment.
It was propaganda.
—
Meanwhile—
Inside the arcade.
Senju Tobirama had temporarily halted several research projects.
All his focus—
On the arcade machine.
After being defeated repeatedly by Ren and Uchiha Hikaru—
He studied it thoroughly.
Then—
Modified it.
Hidden mechanics.
Input tricks.
Stat alterations.
Damage boosts.
Faster energy gain.
In short—
Cheating.
He challenged Ren again.
With a wager.
If Ren won—
Tobirama would hand over the technology.
Ren agreed immediately.
And lost.
Twice.
Something felt wrong.
Blocks failed.
Combos landed too easily.
By the third match—
Ren confirmed it.
"This is cheating."
Tobirama laughed.
"This is science!"
"Hate the fate of lacking genius!"
Ren exploded.
He activated the Impure World Reincarnation seal—
And crushed him.
Victory.
The technology—
Acquired.
—
The arcade opened.
Instant sensation.
Crowded every day.
And at its center—
Hikaru.
"The strongest woman in the arcade!"
With her Sharingan—
And relentless practice—
She dominated.
Almost no one could take even one life from her.
Today—
Her opponent—
Tsunade.
"New rules," Hikaru said calmly.
"Lose one match—stay away from Ren for a day."
"If you deal even 10% of my health, you win."
"I'm not afraid of you!"
Tsunade accepted instantly.
—
"Hashirama… you can't dance anymore."
Victory screen.
Hikaru laughed.
"I win."
Effortless.
Crushing.
"I'm not done! Again!"
"Another day wager?"
"Fine!"
—
"Hashirama… you can't dance anymore."
Again.
And again.
"You've lost for a week straight," Hikaru said, smiling. "Still going?"
Tsunade's face darkened.
In reality—
She lost.
In games—
She still lost.
Unacceptable.
"…Fine."
"No more gambling practice at night."
"I'll train."
Even if it meant abandoning her beloved pastime.
"For now."
"Uchiha Hikaru," she said coldly, "remember this."
"You may be on top now."
"But not forever."
"Thirty years east, thirty years west—"
"Don't underestimate me!"
She turned—
And bought a pile of game tokens.
Training began.
—
Elsewhere—
Uchiha Madara walked through Konoha's streets.
He had grown used to this life.
Wake up.
Breakfast.
Work.
He was no longer an ordinary worker.
Promoted rapidly.
Team leader.
Workshop director.
Factory head.
Titles stacked upon titles.
Recognized.
Valued.
"Not bad…"
He looked around.
Konoha—
Prosperous.
Alive.
People worked hard—
But lived well.
Food.
Shelter.
Stability.
Compared to before—
Heaven.
"Damn Kumogakure…"
He recalled the news.
The chaos.
The violence.
The suffering.
The world was still unstable.
But Konoha—
Would fix it.
One day—
All instability would be eradicated.
And the entire world—
Would enjoy Konoha's "blessings."
He had even bought a television.
Every day—
He watched the news.
Closely.
The Land of Grass—
The banana economy.
The farmers—
Smiling.
Hopeful.
Earning money.
Living better.
"Konoha is our savior!"
The same words—
Repeated endlessly.
Even Madara—
A rogue ninja of Konoha—
Couldn't help but straighten his back.
Pride—
Unavoidable.
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