The so-called Daimyo of the Land of Fire was seated in his sprawling palace, sipping tea brewed from leaves that probably cost more than a chunin's annual salary. The place reeked of gold, lacquer, and that subtle air of smugness that only came from someone who had never lifted a kunai in his life, yet claimed to rule over those who did.
Across from him sat Uchiha Makoto, looking perfectly calm, polite smile plastered on his face.
Inside, of course, he was laughing.
(So this is the famous daimyo, huh? Overdressed, overfed, and overconfident. Honestly, if he tripped over that fat robe of his, I doubt he could get back up without an entourage pulling him like a beached whale.)
The daimyo raised his cup with a delicate motion and spoke in that practiced tone of nobility:
"Makoto-kun, I have heard whispers. They say you intend to take control of the flower trade of the Land of Fire."
His eyes narrowed, but his lips remained curled in amusement. The kind of look a cat might give a mouse right before deciding whether to play with it or eat it.
Makoto's smile didn't waver. "Yes, Daimyo-sama. Flowers are a symbol of prosperity and elegance. The world craves beauty. Why shouldn't the Land of Fire lead the way?"
The daimyo chuckled, though his gaze sharpened. "Ambitious. But the flower trade is already stable. My court's merchants have handled it for generations. What need is there for… innovation?"
(Ah, there it is. The classic old man line: Why change things? Because, you fossil, stagnation is death!)
Makoto folded his hands. "With respect, Daimyo-sama, stability is but another word for stagnation. A market that does not grow will wither. Imagine: tulips blooming in every village, every noble lady boasting of owning rare colors, every merchant desperate to buy seeds before the next man."
The daimyo's brow furrowed slightly. "Tulips? Those plain flowers from the western lands?"
"Plain now, priceless tomorrow," Makoto said smoothly. "A symbol of wealth. The nobility will compete for the rarest bulbs. Merchants will scramble to corner supply. And all of it," he leaned forward, lowering his voice just enough, "will be taxed in your name."
The daimyo's fan stopped mid-wave. His eyes glittered. The words 'taxed in your name' were like music to any ruler's ears.
Still, he tried to feign indifference. "Hmph. Interesting. But ventures like these cost money. A great deal of money. Tell me, Makoto-kun, who will bear this burden?"
Makoto's smile widened. "Why, you will, Daimyo-sama."
For a heartbeat, the entire hall froze. Even the guards holding halberds by the wall glanced at each other.
The daimyo blinked. "...Excuse me?"
Makoto bowed slightly. "With utmost respect, Daimyo-sama, it is your coffers that must fund the venture. After all, who else possesses the resources to reshape the economy of the entire Land of Fire? Your investment today ensures that tomorrow, the people will praise not me, but their wise and far-sighted daimyo."
(Translation: I'm spending your money to run my scam, and you'll thank me for it. Beautiful, isn't it?)
The daimyo's lips twitched. He wasn't sure if this boy was brilliant or insane. Maybe both. But something about the confidence in Makoto's tone made it sound inevitable, as if resistance would only make him look like the fool.
After a long silence, the daimyo finally laughed. Loud, booming, theatrical. "Hahaha! Very well, Makoto-kun. You are bold, I'll grant you that. If this tulip scheme succeeds, it will indeed bring prosperity. You shall have my support—for now."
Makoto bowed again, hiding his smirk. Hook, line, and sinker.
---
The Tulip Scheme Begins
Back in Konoha, Makoto wasted no time. With the daimyo's gold in hand, he unleashed the great Tulip Propaganda Campaign.
Flyers were printed. Nobles were invited to secret "preview gardens." Word spread like wildfire: tulips were the flower of the future.
At first, the common folk scoffed. "Tulips? Pretty enough, but who cares?"
Then came the rumors:
"Did you hear? Lady Nara paid three times the usual price for a single bulb!"
"They say the Uchiha clan gifted a bouquet of rare tulips to the daimyo's niece!"
"My cousin sold his tulip field for more than his entire farm is worth!"
Within weeks, tulip mania had taken hold.
Makoto stood at the center of it all, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold like a proud parent.
(Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Human greed is the best fertilizer.)
---
Team Konosuba Joins the Madness
Of course, his so-called "companions" had to get involved.
Aqua was the first to barge into his office, waving a tulip bulb in his face. "Makoto! Makoto! Look! I bought one! They say this will double in price next week! I'm going to be rich!"
Makoto pinched the bridge of his nose. "Aqua… where did you get the money?"
She puffed up proudly. "I pawned the shrine relics I was carrying!"
"...You pawned holy relics. For a tulip bulb."
"Yes! Isn't it genius?"
(No, it's a crime. But honestly, the fact that people trusted you with holy relics in the first place is the bigger crime.)
Darkness, of course, had a different perspective. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes gleaming. "The suffering this scheme will cause… families ruined, merchants bankrupted, peasants crushed under debt. Makoto, you truly are a cruel man. I admire it."
"...Stop admiring it. You're making it weird."
Megumin, meanwhile, was in the corner planting tulips in a pot, staring at them with an intensity that worried him. "When these bloom, I'll name them after Explosion. Then everyone will pay tribute to my art!"
(Great. Now we have "Exploding Tulips." Just what the world needs.)
And Kazuma? He was the only one who saw through it. He leaned on the desk, smirking. "You're recreating the tulip bubble from your old world, aren't you? This is a scam."
Makoto froze for a second. "…You know about that?"
Kazuma shrugged. "Please. I was a NEET. I've read enough internet articles to recognize a pyramid scheme when I see one. But hey, if it works, it works. Just don't let Aqua buy all the stock."
(Finally. Someone with a functioning brain cell. Congratulations, Kazuma, you are now the smartest idiot in this group.)
---
The Market Spirals
As months passed, tulip prices skyrocketed. A single bulb could buy a cow. A rare variety could buy a house. People sold farms, tools, even family heirlooms just to invest.
Merchants boasted of fortunes. Nobles flaunted bouquets like royal treasures. Even shinobi got involved—an ANBU was spotted smuggling bulbs in his mask pouch.
Makoto, of course, sat back and counted profits. Every transaction, every sale, every inflated deal flowed a percentage back into his coffers.
But he knew the truth: it was all smoke and mirrors. The higher the market climbed, the harder it would crash. And when it did, he needed to be the one standing on top of the rubble.
(Relax, peasants. I'm not stealing your money—I'm just "redistributing" it into my pocket. You'll thank me later. Maybe. Probably not.)
---
Daimyo's Visit
One afternoon, the daimyo himself visited Konoha to see the results. His entourage filled the streets, gold banners fluttering in the breeze.
He entered Makoto's newly built "Tulip Exchange Hall," where nobles shouted bids and clerks scribbled furiously.
The daimyo's eyes sparkled. "Makoto-kun! This… this is marvelous! The Land of Fire has never seen such wealth flow through its markets!"
Makoto bowed gracefully. "All thanks to your wise investment, Daimyo-sama."
(Translation: thanks for being gullible enough to hand me a blank check.)
The daimyo laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "You are a genius! A national treasure! From today, you have my full backing."
Makoto forced a polite smile. Inside, though, his thoughts were darker.
(Full backing, huh? That means when this bubble bursts, I'll be the first one you throw under the carriage. Well, too bad—I plan to cash out long before then.)
---
The Storm on the Horizon
The scheme was working too well. Prices were climbing faster than Makoto had anticipated. Rumors swirled of a single bulb sold for the price of an entire manor.
Kazuma pulled him aside one night. "Makoto, this is getting out of hand. You need to decide when to pull the plug."
Makoto smirked. "Of course. A scammer's greatest skill isn't starting the con—it's knowing when to exit."
He glanced out the window at the glowing fields of tulips, stretching into the night.
(The daimyo thinks I'm working for him. The nobles think they're outsmarting each other. The peasants think they're climbing the ladder of wealth. In reality, I'm the one pulling the strings. This is my stage, my scam, my game.)
And when the curtain falls… he intended to be the only one left standing.
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