Having stepped away from the working class, Uchiha Madara suddenly found himself with an abundance of free time.
Lately—
He had become something of a street regular in Konoha.
Many villagers had come to recognize this peculiar old man.
With the unmistakable Uchiha hairstyle—
Yet he firmly denied being part of the Uchiha Clan.
But the moment the topic came up—
He would talk endlessly.
As if he knew everything.
A small square table.
A pot of tea.
A few idle men.
From daily gossip—
To Konoha's rumored widows—
And inevitably—
Politics.
Madara waved his hand grandly, commenting on the great figures of the ninja world.
"The First Tsuchikage, Mizukage, Kazekage? Mediocre at best!"
"In my eyes, only Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara deserve to be called heroes!"
"…Though Hashirama is still slightly inferior!"
"The Sharingan is supreme!"
"The Senju Clan? Trash—except Hashirama!"
"What? Senju Tobirama?"
"He's nothing but a joke!"
"But he was the Second Hokage!"
"So what?!"
"And the Third Hokage, Uchiha Ren?"
"…Not bad."
Madara took a sip of tea, looking profound.
For him—
That was already high praise.
"You really know your stuff, old man!"
"Of course."
No one took him seriously.
Just another loudmouth.
There were plenty like him.
"Old Man Ban-Zhu, bragging again?"
A group of ninja academy students rushed over.
Madara had grown familiar with them.
These kids—
Untouched by the cruelty of war—
Reminded him of his youth.
Back when—
Hashirama was still around.
"Skipping class again?" he asked.
"We're on break!"
"…Break, huh…"
Madara muttered.
Then smiled.
He pulled out a box.
"Board games today? Or Ninja Kill?"
The students shook their heads.
That wasn't why they came.
A new arcade had opened.
Way more fun.
But—
They were broke.
So—
They needed a sponsor.
And Madara—
Had a reputation.
Money meant nothing to him.
He once spent a fortune—
Just to complete a card set.
Legendary among students.
"Old man, we're going to the arcade!"
"Arcade?" Madara raised a brow. "Is it fun?"
"It'll make you want to dance!"
That word—
Triggered him instantly.
"…Interesting."
"Lead the way."
—
The arcade was packed.
Noise everywhere.
"Old man, listen—if you're strong enough, you can enter ranked matches."
"The top players are on the third floor."
"You're new, so you start on the first."
"Third floor?"
"I'm restricted to the first?"
Madara's eyes sharpened.
Ridiculous.
He was Uchiha Madara.
Reaching the top—
Was inevitable.
He smirked, bought a full basket of tokens, and waved generously.
"Today, I pay!"
"Come at me, brats!"
"I'll crush you once I get used to it!"
"I am the strongest—HAHAHA!"
Very quickly—
He adapted.
Crushed every student nearby.
And laughed wildly.
In truth—
He cheated.
His remaining Sharingan, hidden beneath his hair—
Silently activated.
Of course—
His natural talent helped too.
Maybe—
He really was a genius.
"Old man, if you're so strong—why not challenge the top player on the third floor?"
"Uchiha Hikaru!"
"Is she the strongest?"
Madara smiled.
"I'll defeat her."
A mere junior.
He was the ancestor.
Experience alone—
Was enough.
—
Meanwhile—
In the Land of Lightning.
Inside a meeting room—
Kakuzu looked over the gathered ninja.
"You all know why you're here?"
They nodded.
"To execute the Ponzi scheme."
"To scam the people of the Land of Lightning."
"Wrong."
Kakuzu slammed the table.
"We are an investment company."
"We are launching the Blue Sky Plan."
"We are here to help people achieve wealth and success!"
"Remember this—"
"We are NOT scammers!"
Silence.
Kakuzu sighed.
These outdated ninja—
Hopeless.
Their disguises?
Terrible.
He signaled.
Hatake Sakumo dragged in boxes of suits.
"Change into these."
"Then training begins."
Soon—
Everyone wore identical suits.
Professional.
Convincing.
"Repeat after me!"
"Today we sleep on the floor—tomorrow we become bosses!"
"Again!"
"Today we sleep on the floor—tomorrow we become bosses!"
"Good!"
Kakuzu's presence crushed them.
His voice—
Magnetic.
Hypnotic.
He pointed at one ninja.
"You—how much did you earn?"
"…One million ryo?"
"Too small!"
"One hundred million!"
"We are all millionaires!"
Sakumo stepped forward.
Reluctantly.
But his performance—
Flawless.
Emotion.
Rhythm.
A perfect success story.
The crowd was stunned.
A real millionaire?!
Then—
Maybe they could be too…
Their mindset shifted.
Excitement rose.
"I'm telling you—you'll all be like him!"
"Follow the right person—making money is as easy as breathing!"
"Who are you?!"
"We are millionaires!"
"Again!"
"WE ARE MILLIONAIRES!"
"Excellent!"
Training continued.
Scripts.
Case studies.
Dialogue.
Even—
Genjutsu-assisted conditioning.
Soon—
They believed it themselves.
—
Not long after—
Shell companies opened across the Land of Lightning.
"Blue Sky Plan Co., Ltd."
Firecrackers exploded.
Crowds gathered.
Rumors spread.
"A company from the Land of Fire!"
"No—from the Land of Earth!"
"The Daimyo is behind it!"
Speculation grew.
Curiosity peaked.
Finally—
The stage was set.
A grand hall was rented.
A seminar announced.
Free entry.
Free food.
Five eggs.
One kilogram of rice.
The hall—
Overflowed.
Lights dimmed.
Spotlight—
On Sakumo.
"Brothers and sisters…"
"I was once like you…"
"Poor. Struggling. Hopeless."
"Until I met a man."
"The chairman of Blue Sky Plan."
"A genius."
"The greatest mind in the ninja world."
"Under his guidance—"
"I invested."
"In just two years—"
"I became successful."
"My wealth has reached eight digits."
The audience listened.
Half-believing.
Half-skeptical.
But—
They already got free food.
No loss.
"Who wants to join us?"
Silence.
Then—
Planted voices.
"I will!"
"Me too!"
"I'm in!"
Actors.
Dozens.
"I'll invest 100,000!"
"200,000!"
"I want to get rich!"
The atmosphere exploded.
Applause.
Music.
Excitement.
Others hesitated—
Then followed.
They're investing too…
Maybe it's real…
Would they go this far just to scam me?
And just like that—
The first wave of prey—
Walked in willingly.
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