Uchiha Makoto stood there, spouting nonsense with a perfectly straight face.
Although his words didn't line up at all and couldn't withstand even the slightest scrutiny, they still landed like a critical hit straight into Uzumaki Shinji's heart.
Because Makoto genuinely intended to pay.
When a rich man speaks, even if he's blatantly talking nonsense, there will always be crowds who treat his every word as sacred truth.
What a wise and outstanding Light Shadow, Uzumaki Shinji thought to himself.
To have such an ally—this is truly the Uzumaki clan's honor.
With that, he readily agreed to Makoto's request.
As long as the Uzumaki clan could finally hold their heads high in front of Konoha, nothing else mattered.
Of course, even if the 3.68 billion ryō betrothal gift was to be handled discreetly within the Uzumaki clan, they would never neglect the matter internally. They would remember this bond firmly.
This was the Light Shadow's grace.
Beside him, Uzumaki Tsubaki's eyes sparkled like little stars as she gazed at Makoto with pure admiration.
A man who could throw money around like this—
And not even seek fame for it—
Every gesture of his radiated an irresistible charm.
Once the negotiations were concluded, the Uzumaki clan and Amegakure quickly drafted a formal alliance treaty.
Makoto, as the Light Shadow, pressed his thumbprint in red ink onto the document and signed his name beneath it. Uzumaki Shinji did the same.
"I hope you'll all stay in Amegakure for a few more days," Makoto said politely.
"Allow us to properly play host."
He wanted the Uzumaki delegation to remain for a while longer. After all, the outer defensive sealing barrier surrounding Amegakure still required a comprehensive redesign.
And Uzumaki Shinji—now that he was the Uzumaki clan head—was undoubtedly among the greatest sealing masters in the entire ninja world.
If he personally oversaw the design, Amegakure's barrier system would at least rival Konoha's.
At minimum, it wouldn't fall far behind.
After all—
That 3.68 billion ryō couldn't be spent for nothing.
"Then I shall accept your hospitality," Uzumaki Shinji replied with a nod.
He even planned to personally oversee the wedding arrangements between Makoto and Tsubaki. This involved the dignity of the Uzumaki clan—there could be no carelessness.
Soon after, Shinji tactfully excused himself, leaving Makoto's office and deliberately giving the young couple some private space.
Relationships, after all, needed time to grow.
Makoto poured Tsubaki a cup of his favorite honeyed water, then returned to his desk.
There was still one very important matter left to handle.
That was to inform Konoha about the alliance between Amegakure and the Uzumaki clan—and about his engagement to Uzumaki Tsubaki.
No matter how one looked at it, Amegakure was still Konoha's ally.
And Makoto's own Uchiha clan still resided in Konoha.
Considering Konoha's close historical ties with the Uzumaki clan, they should—by all logic and sentiment—be the first to receive this news.
Makoto was genuinely looking forward to Konoha's reaction.
Especially that one—
That inherently evil Senju old ghost.
Konoha
At this very moment, Senju Tobirama—the so-called Shadow Hokage—was buried in paperwork in the Hokage's office, handling the endless grind of village affairs.
Meanwhile, Konoha's official Hokage was walking the streets, checking the wooden boxes that had been placed two days earlier.
"Empty…"
"Empty again…"
"Why is it still empty?!"
The more he checked, the tighter Hashirama's chest felt.
Not long ago, he had begged and pleaded all afternoon before finally squeezing two million ryō out of Tobirama's hands.
With that money, he'd placed fifty wooden boxes around the village, each containing forty thousand ryō—hoping to replicate Amegakure's "advanced experience" and shape Konoha into his ideal village.
And now—
Reality slapped him in the face.
Not a single person had added money from their own pocket.
Instead, after just two nights, every box had been completely cleaned out.
"Such inherent flaws…!"
"This is Konoha's inherent flaw!"
Hashirama stood on the street, dejected, shouting in frustration.
He had been so confident—fully intending to present the success of this initiative to Tobirama.
After all, he still believed in the village he had founded with his own hands.
But the result—
Was total failure.
Two million ryō, gone without a trace.
Before long, Hashirama's borderline unhinged behavior on the street drew attention.
Konoha's villagers were quite familiar with him.
An idle Hashirama wandering the streets like a carefree drifter—his naive, infectious smile made him extremely recognizable.
In contrast, Tobirama—who actually did the work—was far less familiar to ordinary villagers.
From morning to night, Tobirama stayed in his office, drowning in paperwork, squeezing time out for research experiments. He had no time to show his face and "build rapport."
Konoha's upper echelon, however, knew him well.
Village operations, clan affairs, mission assignments—everything passed through Tobirama's hands.
"What's wrong with Lord Hashirama?"
"He looks so down…"
"What does he mean by 'inherent flaws'?"
Villagers whispered among themselves as Hashirama muttered:
"I was too naive… Konoha really does have inherent flaws…"
"You don't even know what 'inherent flaws' means?"
"Haven't you read New Ninja? It's the hottest, best-selling publication in the Land of Fire—sold across all Five Great Nations. It's basically the most popular reading in the entire ninja world."
"No."
"You haven't even read that? You're really out of touch."
"See those wooden boxes? Completely empty. Lord Hashirama probably tried to imitate Amegakure, but it failed. I saw them yesterday already—Konoha really does have inherent flaws."
"Yeah, yeah, I agree."
"A friend of mine's been to Amegakure—I swear it's all true."
"That place is full of equality and freedom, and it's rich too. The people are kind. Compared to Amegakure, Konoha is way behind. That's what inherent flaws are—something you just can't fix."
A few voices in the crowd began echoing one another.
Their words overflowed with admiration for Amegakure—and open disdain for Konoha.
Such people were strange.
Yet there were quite a few of them.
They loved belittling the land beneath their feet while elevating outsiders—deriving a twisted sense of superiority from it.
Unnoticed, an invisible braid seemed to grow from the backs of their heads.
"How can you insult Konoha like that?!"
"You're a disgrace!"
There were still voices of justice among the crowd.
But they were quickly drowned out.
"Hmph. I'm just telling the truth."
"Is your self-esteem really that fragile? The facts are right there—look at the empty boxes. And in Amegakure…"
The speaker's face twisted into a mocking grin.
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