In the end, the Third still had authority.
He forced down the pressure from all the factions demanding money, and shoved the blame squarely onto Danzo.
Hiruzen was still the same Hokage-sama—single-mindedly devoted to Konoha, single-mindedly devoted to everyone.
And yet, this whole wave of chaos made Kangetsu laugh out loud back at the Shimizu estate. (Full name: Shimizu Kangetsu)
Old man.
Money is a wonderful thing.
Money is also a terrible thing.
In Kangetsu's old world, even a system that civilized still managed to breed plenty of rotten parasites.
So what chance did a "village chief" have of resisting sugar-coated bullets?
Especially when Konoha was even more desperate than the hardest years of his old home.
That just made it worse.
The beast called "capital," if you didn't slap an iron chain around its neck, could swallow all of Konoha—bones and all.
From ancient times to the present, the shinobi world had always been talking about the same dream:
Peace, and a better life.
Kangetsu simply took a shortcut—skipped the peace phase entirely and went straight to giving people a better life.
Old man, you can't stop it.
Of course, this kind of thing had to grow in stages.
If Kangetsu used this window to raise his strength as fast as possible, then by the time things truly boiled over, he'd have the foundation to press the old man down.
If Hiruzen could step aside with dignity, great.
If not?
Kangetsu wouldn't even need to lift a finger. Plenty of people would "help" him step aside, nice and dignified.
And Kangetsu's sugar-coated bullets weren't only aimed at Konoha. If anything, he'd be even more ruthless with the other villages.
When that time came, it wouldn't be about who was righteous.
It would be about who could rot faster.
Start a shinobi world war?
Sorry. I'm drinking my good liquor and counting my banknotes. You think I'm going to march off to war with a bunch of dirt-poor bumpkins?
What a joke.
Still, there were problems he couldn't ignore.
That ancient Uchiha fossil.
That "dutiful son" who wanted to split the moon to save his mother.
That terrifying organization lurking in the shadows.
And, lastly, that old cadre in the underworld who occasionally crawled back for a rematch—he'd need to keep half an eye on that too.
After the tobacco business, it was better to lie low for a while.
Kangetsu made up his mind.
He still needed to stir things up to buy himself development time, but moving too fast only got you hurt.
Off to the side, Mikoto watched Kangetsu as he suddenly brightened.
Curious, she quietly poured him more sake.
Then she sat down close to him—soft and careful, like a young wife.
It wasn't that she'd accepted everything.
It was that, over these past days, she'd gradually come to understand reality.
She could tell Kangetsu… did have a little interest in her.
So could she refuse him?
Hard to say.
The clan's hope.
Her son's backing.
She couldn't bring herself to openly resist.
All she could do was offer silent protest.
Kangetsu was supposed to be a gentleman.
He shouldn't be like this…
Like what?
Kangetsu decided he had to be a little drunk.
His fingers wandered again, idly playing with Yukine's delicate hand.
Mikoto glanced down. She couldn't pull free, so she drank—expression complicated—trying to drown the thoughts.
If she was drunk, she wouldn't have to think about any of it.
Oh?
Haruno—the wicked fox—saw the scene, and her face brightened like she'd just been handed a front-row ticket.
Hurry up, you dog of a man. Your moment is here. Tonight you're finally going to eat meat!
With that look practically screaming encouragement, Haruno bounced over and started drinking with Mikoto-san—cup for cup.
A few rounds later, Mikoto was genuinely drunk.
Her eyes went hazy. Her body leaned, half-falling into him.
Holding her soft weight, Kangetsu cleared his throat.
"Yukine, you're being naughty again. Fine. Tonight's yours."
From a little distance away, Yukine blinked.
He really did love pretending a mistake was on purpose.
Just like last time—he said he was going to sleep with Haruno, and somehow ended up sleeping with her instead.
Hearing that, Mikoto seemed to regain the tiniest sliver of clarity. She weakly patted Kangetsu's chest like it was a token protest.
"Fugaku… is that you?"
"…Yeah," Kangetsu said after a pause. "Don't open your eyes. It's me. I'm Fugaku."
"…Okay."
Mikoto-san actually listened. She didn't open her eyes.
Instead, her smooth arms slid up and wrapped around his neck.
When he lifted her into his arms—
Haruno, receiving the signal, immediately produced a small round packet.
Kangetsu shook his head without a word.
Huh?
Haruno froze, baffled, packet pinched between her fingers.
You… you're going in without protection?
No way…
What if Mikoto-san ended up—?
Haruno cut herself off, eyes widening, then swallowed the rest of her thoughts.
Kangetsu leaned in and stole a brief kiss from Mikoto-san.
It was sweet.
And he could feel the tension in her—how tightly she was holding herself together.
Oh, wow.
So you really are playing the "mistaken identity" game all the way through…
And, honestly, a kunoichi like Mikoto-san didn't get this drunk off two or three cups.
Fine.
If that's what she wanted, Haruno would indulge her.
...
Elsewhere.
At the Uchiha compound, Fugaku let out another long sigh.
And Itachi and Shisui stood in front of him like two temple guardians, flanking him on either side and boxing him in.
Itachi struck first—with the iron fist of "filial piety."
"Father. You've been Clan Head for years. You should have some savings, right?"
Hand it over.
Your son is Deputy Clan Head now, and he's very short on funds.
Shisui hesitated, glanced at the "dutiful son" beside him, then gave Fugaku an awkward smile.
Clan Head… just hand it over.
If you don't, I'm worried your kid really will kick you again.
And no, that wasn't a joke.
Because of the issue of prestige, Itachi had openly challenged Fugaku a few days ago.
Yes.
That "dutiful son" beat his own father black and blue.
To be fair, Fugaku wasn't so weak that he couldn't fight back at all.
But Itachi only had to say one sentence—
"Father, you wouldn't want the Uchiha to fall back into hardship, would you?"
That day, Itachi had swung with great satisfaction.
And his prestige shot up higher than it had ever been.
To help solidify that prestige, Shisui even forced himself to kick Fugaku twice—against his conscience.
"Clan Head! Don't blame me! This hurts me too!!"
"What?! You already surrendered?!"
"Oh wow, Clan Head! Why didn't you say so earlier?
Why didn't you say so earli-er?"
Fugaku's eye twitched.
In their own way, these two were valuable.
They were just… profoundly absurd.
Still, no matter how absurd it looked, if they could haul the Uchiha back from the edge of a cliff, then they were good leaders.
Because as Clan Head, Fugaku understood better than anyone how the upper ranks of Konoha had shifted their attitude toward the Uchiha.
Put simply, these two never stopped "tossing the clan around," but it was exactly that unpredictable tossing that made the higher-ups relax.
They stopped guarding the Uchiha so tightly.
So even though Fugaku's prestige had cratered, even though he'd been beaten senseless by his own son, he'd gritted his teeth and accepted it.
But now—after swallowing it for so long—Fugaku realized these two idiots were trying to dig up his coffin money.
His retirement savings.
"Not a chance," Fugaku said sharply.
"No money."
His gaze turned razor-hard.
That's my coffin money.
You think I'm letting you two little brats take it?
Not happening.
(End of Chapter)
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