"I'm activating the Five-Village Merger Plan!"
Uchiha Yōrin declared loudly. "Whether we're developing the New World or reforming the Old World, the old order, the old organizational model, and the old ninja villages are no longer suitable.
Starting today, I will revive the Ninshū. I will unite every shinobi in the world into an unparalleled shinobi organization—one that will lead the development of the New World!"
The moment Yōrin said that, everyone was so shocked they couldn't speak.
Bro, you—…
Well. The weight of it was enormous, and there was nothing comparable to reference, so nobody could predict what would happen once this plan was announced.
But one effect was immediately obvious:
Severance.
The ambiguous, half-bound relationship between ninja villages and the great nations would be cut clean off.
From now on, the villages would have only one superior: a supranational organization that transcended borders.
Everyone present was sharp. They understood Yōrin's intent instantly.
After the New World was discovered, the relationship between villages and nations—already drifting apart—had begun to grow close again.
Why? Development.
Developing the New World required massive resources, massive money, and massive manpower.
Both the villages and the states wanted to bite off a piece, to tear out a share for themselves.
But villages lacked economic muscle, and nations lacked military muscle. Cooperation outweighed confrontation.
At the same time, everyone wanted their portion of the New World's riches.
Even before real development began—before anyone reaped actual profits—the powder smoke between nations, and between villages, was already thickening.
If Yōrin didn't move decisively, the Fifth Great Ninja War would erupt sooner or later.
Only it wouldn't erupt in the Old World—it would erupt in the New World. The scale might be smaller, perhaps resembling colonial wars in the old world: killing each other in the colonies while "peace" technically held at home.
Uchiha Yōrin would not allow that.
So the establishment of the Ninshū was necessary.
With the formal founding of the Ninshū, the village–nation alliances would be officially shattered.
And with the Sect coordinating things, the villages could distribute New World profits more harmoniously. The Sect would have enough resources that villages wouldn't need to rely on states at all to develop and secure what they wanted.
In that way, the Fifth Great Ninja War would be smothered before it was born.
Of course, this would also massively offend the Five Great Nations.
Without the villages as their blades, national military strength would plummet. Their New World development would almost completely stall.
From their perspective, Uchiha Yōrin was trying to swallow the entire New World for himself—no wonder the great nations would be furious.
The relationship between the two sides—just beginning to stabilize thanks to New World incentives—would become turbulent and treacherous again because of this decision.
…
So the question became: would the other villages agree with Yōrin? Would they support reviving the Ninshū right now?
If they refused, would the Fifth Great Ninja War erupt immediately?
With that in mind, Uchiha Yōrin convened another Five Kage Summit.
Before the summit even began, the diplomats of various nations were frantic—standing in front of each village's Kage, delivering passionate speeches, laying out pros and cons, pleading them not to accept Yōrin's terms.
No matter what, you can't agree to Uchiha Yōrin.
No matter what—don't, damn it!
The village–nation alliances have lasted for so long. Are you really going to abandon your traditional allies and embrace some bizarre "Ninshū system"?
Don't you want to use your swords, your kunai, to fight for power and territory?
Have you already surrendered to Uchiha Yōrin?!
Naturally, this did not include Kirigakure's Mizukage, Mei Terumī.
As one of Yōrin's wives, Mei was essentially impossible to persuade.
So the nobles didn't waste effort on her.
Instead, they chose a more direct tactic: attempting a coup in Kirigakure.
The nobles deluded themselves into believing: Mei is a woman, pushed into power by an outside force like Yōrin—surely Kirigakure's resentment is deep. If we promise a little, agitate a little, we can launch a coup and throw her out.
Once Mei is gone, whoever takes power won't be able to stay close to Konoha in the short term.
Because "anti-Konoha" would be the foundation of their legitimacy.
And just like that, Kirigakure would be "handled."
…
How do you put this? The plan sounded decent. But it relied on one precondition:
They had to find a real opposition faction capable of overthrowing Mei.
And they were shocked—confused—dumbfounded—to discover:
They couldn't.
Did Kirigakure have people unhappy with Mei? Of course.
Even though Yōrin had crushed and killed off the hardliners back then, localism doesn't need inheritance—it can generate itself.
Like how someone whose family has never been from the big cities can still suddenly start acting superior and looking down on the countryside.
So yes, there were people who resented Mei, who thought she was betraying Kirigakure's interests and kneeling too hard to Uchiha Yōrin.
At first, the diplomat was thrilled—he thought the mission would be easy.
Then he dropped a small hint… and the Kirigakure ninja who'd been complaining with him a second ago abruptly stopped. A few even stepped back, with expressions that screamed: "Don't you dare splash your blood on me."
The envoy didn't understand, so he stopped hinting and spoke plainly.
Then the Kirigakure ninja started making excuses:
"Soup's on the stove."
"Gotta pick up my kid from school."
"Mom told me to come home for dinner."
And—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—Body Flicker, one after another. They fled faster than rabbits.
"What the hell?" the envoy stared, and then he understood. And he felt anger—followed by chills.
So that's how it is.
Kirigakure has no men, huh?
No—Kirigakure's ninja are simply rational.
Talking trash with you is one thing.
Actually staging a rebellion and solo'ing Uchiha Yōrin is another.
Who would start a war over a few vague promises?
"What—so I can be the Fifth Mizukage for five minutes? I'd be dead before I sat down."
…
After that, the envoy wasn't satisfied and kept searching for someone "strong enough" to take the Mizukage seat—some traitor.
But no matter how he searched, he found nobody.
The few surviving old-timers had been terrified by the fate of the previous hardliners.
If you asked them to oppose Mei? Sure. They'd love it.
But if you asked them to oppose Uchiha Yōrin?
They were old, not senile. Who are you? Bye.
After enough of this, even the most stubborn, stupid envoy realized something was wrong.
What the hell is going on?
Did Uchiha cast genjutsu on everyone here and turn them into drooling idiots?
This is bad. If I stay here, I might get "assimilated" too and end up going "ah… bah… ah…"
I need to run. Now.
So the envoy bolted at top speed.
Halfway through his escape, he sighed heavily, thinking: if this keeps going, not only will the villages get swallowed—the great nations will be finished too.
The shinobi world has never lacked would-be conquerors. But their methods were always traditional:
Find some overpowered jutsu or technology, build a doomsday weapon, win with one trick, conquer the world by force.
Anyone with a brain can tell those types won't win.
Even if they catch the world off-guard at first, once the major villages react and develop countermeasures, they'll crush the would-be tyrant easily.
In the movies, the "villain who gets beaten by the protagonist" is common.
In real life, there are even more would-be tyrants who simply get flattened by major villages before the protagonist ever meets them. If the protagonist had to meet them all, you could film dozens more movies.
But Uchiha Yōrin doesn't follow the script.
After gaining power, he didn't take the blunt "conquer by force" route. He took the "unite them" route.
And his administration and organization were so strong that he actually pulled it off—he united the shinobi world.
That's the problem.
When other villains act up, the world unites to kill them.
When Yōrin acts up, the world unites with him.
How do you win against that?
The envoy sighed and thought:
"Maybe I should send a few kids to Konoha to become ninja. Switch allegiances. Keep up with the times."
He knew—soon enough, shinobi would become the highest ruling class in the world. If you want to survive, you have to ride the tide.
But even as he considered it, he couldn't shake his frustration.
Switching banners is easy to say. It means everything you built before becomes worthless. That hurts.
Can't this be salvaged? Really? Not at all?
He sighed and sighed again.
Then he saw someone ahead—wearing a light, flashy yukata, not looking like a "proper" person at all—walking toward Kirigakure while blowing bubbles.
"…Isn't that Utakata?"
The envoy froze, then recognized him.