Uchiha Makoto had already made up his mind regarding the arrangements for the injured ninja who had fought bravely during the recent war. In his plan, there were two suitable destinations: the Ninja Academy and the film company.
The former was simple and straightforward. Injured ninjas becoming instructors at the Academy was an honorable path, and even those whose injuries had downgraded them to mere Genin-level strength could still teach basic skills and battlefield wisdom to new students. Experience was something no textbook could replace.
But the latter—the film company—was what puzzled Vortex Shinji.
Makoto had long envisioned using culture as a soft-power weapon to shape public opinion across the shinobi world. However, until now, the timing had not been right. The remnants of the Warring States era still lived and breathed, holding tightly to their harsh doctrines born from decades of blood-soaked survival. For them, "If you can't fight, you die" was not an exaggeration but a life philosophy.
These people were social Darwinists to the bone, firm believers in great-power supremacy. Any form of "image-building" or "propaganda" through art would only be dismissed by them as frivolous, even weak.
But now—after Akatsuki Ninja Village's overwhelming victory—Makoto finally had the momentum he needed. It was time for them to take their first formal step into cultural infiltration.
Through newspapers, novels, repurposed defectors, and especially film, they would shape an image that would spread across every land and village. They would cultivate a collective perception: Akatsuki ninjas are handsome and heroic, protectors of peace, righteous defenders of justice.
With enough exposure and persistent storytelling, the words "Akatsuki ninja" would become synonymous with "justice."
Makoto had already tasted the sweetness of this during the war. With a good public image, everything became easier. Even a sudden surprise attack—under normal circumstances condemned by all—would be forgiven, or even justified, by scholars and analysts who supported Akatsuki's ideology.
But public relations was only one benefit.
More importantly, a good reputation meant more funding, more talent, and more ambitious young people eager to join a village seen as rising, righteous, and strong. Backed by the Land of Fire, wealthy from rapid recovery, Akatsuki would accumulate advantage after advantage. Time was on their side.
And eventually—slowly but surely—shinobi all over the world would "vote with their feet," choosing the village that treated them well rather than the one that treated them as disposable.
Perhaps they might even poach Konoha's promising youngsters.
Makoto said the name casually:
"Akatsukiwood."
Shinji blinked.
"Making… movies? Isn't that beneath ninja? Wouldn't it be undignified?"
He could understand transforming injured veterans into Academy teachers. That was respectable and aligned with tradition.
But actors? Performing in front of cameras? Filming dramas instead of completing missions?
This crossed a line he didn't know existed.
As an older-era ninja, Shinji knew all too well the grim lives of small clans and wandering ninja. Without stable missions or a solid reputation, they often had to take whatever jobs they could find—jobs that dipped into gray or even black markets.
Some robbed merchants.
Some served as muscle for gambling houses.
Some collected debts for loan sharks.
And those too weak for even such dishonorable work eventually ended up as stunt performers in the entertainment industry, doing the dangerous scenes civilians couldn't physically handle.
Shinji had never respected such people.
To him, they were failed ninja—those who had abandoned their identity.
"We are not small-time wanderers," Shinji muttered. "We are the Uzumaki Clan and the Akatsuki Village. To step into such a disreputable profession… is it not degrading for a shinobi?"
Makoto stared at him blankly.
"Just as rigid as I expected."
He shouldn't have been surprised. After years of dealing with the conservative clan elders in Akatsuki, he had developed some patience. Without exception, the old warriors of the Warring States era were nearly impossible to reason with.
They were obsessed with the idea of "what ninja should do," and anything outside that narrow box simply wasn't acceptable to them.
Ninja society had its own hierarchy of disdain.
Jōnin, who completed A-rank and S-rank missions regularly and earned fortunes, were seen as elite.
Everyone else—Chunin and Genin—were treated as tools, or worse, expendable.
And among devout believers of any system, the harshest judgment was always reserved for those within their own ranks who deviated.
By their definition…
Makoto himself was a heretic.
A complete heretic.
After all, who else but Makoto would force Academy students to work construction jobs—free labor, without pay—under the excuse of "taijutsu training"?
To civilized ninja families, this was unthinkable, even humiliating.
But Makoto had done it intentionally.
Not to exploit them, but to reshape their mindset.
Ninja are not sacred warriors. Ninja are a profession. And professions can change.
The era had shifted.
Industries were rising.
Technology was advancing at a frightening pace.
In just a few decades—from the end of Hashirama's era to Hiruzen's mid-reign—the shinobi world went through the equivalent of three industrial revolutions.
New capitalists invested everywhere.
Factories bloomed like mushrooms.
Black-market technologies kept appearing from nowhere.
Makoto, who regularly engaged with these nobles and merchants, knew better than most:
Capital was coming.
A great transformation was on the horizon.
The heavy burdens carried by Warring States ninjas—those born to kill, fight, and die—were outdated.
Akatsuki Village was entering a rapid development phase. They needed money, influence, alliances, and the ability to compete with major villages not merely with kunai and fireballs but with culture and public opinion.
The stubborn old generation would never adapt.
Makoto didn't bother persuading them.
A post-war baby boom was already happening. The young generations would replace the old soon enough. Parents, blessed with peace and rising wealth, wished nothing more than for their children to live stable, prosperous lives.
Makoto would build such a world—a world where endless bloodshed no longer defined ninja life.
Even the most rigid shinobi retained their basic human desire for happiness.
If given a chance to stay in the village and earn money safely, who would still choose to risk their lives on missions?
Makoto had countless ideas spinning in his head, but he no longer wasted breath arguing with Shinji. He simply asked,
"So? Are you in or out? Give me a straight answer."
Shinji's answer came without hesitation.
"I'm in."
He knew his limits. Makoto's ideas were far beyond his understanding, but he trusted the man. The Uzumaki Clan had already stood with Akatsuki through war—what was a movie compared to that?
Makoto smiled.
Good.
The "ninja-as-tools" ideology, flawed as it was, at least ensured obedience.
"So," Shinji asked, "what will be our first Akatsukiwood film?"
"That's easy," Makoto replied with confidence. "We'll film something ninja are naturally suited for—a war movie."
He continued enthusiastically.
"We'll start with this recent war between Akatsuki and the Hidden Cloud. We'll tell the story of an ordinary Akatsuki mother whose several children all go to war. But due to the cruelty of battle, one by one they die, leaving only the protagonist—Chunin Pain."
Shinji raised an eyebrow.
Makoto ignored him and pressed on.
"Pain is then surrounded by vicious Kumogakure forces. Konoha, our allied village, delays supporting us—make sure that detail stands out. Eventually, the higher-ups send a small rescue team. They all die saving him. The film ends with Pain surviving thanks to their sacrifice."
He grinned.
"The title will be 'Saving Chunin Pain.'"
Shinji made a face.
"It sounds good, but unrealistic. Who would send that many people to save a mere Chunin?"
Makoto chuckled.
"Shinji, don't forget—this entire war started because several Chunin died. We've already shown the world how much we value our lower-tier ninja."
He leaned back, voice confident.
"The majority of the shinobi world is not made of Jōnin. Most are Chunin and Genin—people at the bottom, people who are ignored, people treated as expendable."
Makoto continued:
"To them, this movie will feel like a miracle. A village willing to fight for the lives of its low-ranking members? That kind of message will resonate. It will move them. It will attract them."
After all, which village truly cared about its weakest?
Certainly not Konoha.
If they did, Hashirama himself would have rushed to punish Kumogakure for their atrocities.
So who?
Who cared?
Who treated Chunin and Genin as actual human beings?
The answer was obvious:
Akatsuki Ninja Village, under the leadership of Uchiha Makoto.
Even if the film was fictional, Makoto's real declaration of war for three fallen Chunin was known across the world.
This was the foundation of a runaway ninja's creation.
Not through violence—but by chipping away at the loyalty of ninja in other villages.
Shinji swallowed hard, finally understanding Makoto's plan.
"So… are we dragging Konoha into this film too?"
Makoto laughed lightly.
"Of course we are. The movie is based on real events. I'll depict Konoha's actions exactly as they happened. I'll just… make sure it's subtle."
"Have you heard the phrase 'low-level red, high-level black'?"
"No."
"Good. It's better that way."
Shinji suddenly felt a chill.
Makoto's smile was too bright—too dangerous.
He had a feeling…
something terrible
and brilliant
was about to begin.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)