"Watch your mouth!"
Iruka's gaze sharpened as he shot Mizuki a hard glare.
How are you out here blurting out the blunt truth like that?
You trying to get yourself killed? One ANBU "ticket" and they'll drag you to the Hokage Building for a face-to-face "conversation"!
He coughed twice.
Mizuki knew he'd gone too far, so he tactically coughed into his fist to cover it up.
It wasn't like he wanted to.
But the Third Hokage really had been getting more and more outrageous lately.
Back then, he'd at least drop by once in a while to check on Konoha's "flowers."
Ever since the debt hit, he'd basically stopped showing his face altogether.
"So when do you think Kangetsu-san is taking office?"
Mizuki was already starting to lose patience.
He couldn't wait to pledge his loyalty to that man.
Through fire and water, Kangetsu-aniki!
"No idea," Ibiki said, pointedly ignoring Mizuki's earlier disrespect. "But time-wise, it shouldn't be too far off."
Right now, all he wanted was to follow the money god and make some cash.
Who cares about your this and that?
Konoha's teachers were practically starving to death!
Is there any justice left in this world?!
These days, all of Konoha had formed a rigid, tiered chain of contempt.
The ones working directly under the money god looked down on the ones living off profit shares.
The profit-share crowd looked down on the stinking mission-grinders.
The mission-grinders looked down on the bottom-tier departments.
Yes.
And the Ninja Academy had the honor of being that bottom-tier department.
Even the mission-grinders didn't look at them as equals.
I'm a proud public school teacher of mighty Konoha—do I still have even a shred of authority left to inspire faith?!
Of course.
Technically, the bottom-tier departments weren't the absolute bottom.
Below them, there were still the "stinking outsiders."
But if I've fallen so far that I have to dunk on outsiders just to feel like I exist… do I even have a face left to lose?
"I really hope that man takes the post soon…" Ebisu sighed softly.
The way he said it sounded like someone who'd been wronged for twenty straight years.
Then—wait.
If that man comes to take office… would he need attendants? Retainers?
Of course he would.
So then… who gets to be the one at his side?
In an instant, the teachers' atmosphere turned tense—sharp, ugly.
A rotten phenomenon called a rat race began to seep in.
Mizuki narrowed his eyes, yanking his mouth into a smile that wasn't a smile.
"Everyone, there's no need for us to fight over—"
"Huh?! Where's the roster? I need to organize a clean list right now! That man will definitely need it!"
"Crap! The kids' lunch still isn't ready—I've gotta go watch the kitchen!"
"Report cards! Has anyone seen my class's report cards?!"
"Mizuki! Move! We're not all as free as you!"
…Huh?
Mizuki froze.
Wait, seriously? What about the part where I talk tough?
No wind-up, zero-frame startup?!
Ebisu shoved Mizuki's stupid face aside impatiently.
He was busy finding ways to impress that man.
No time for you.
Even Iruka was sneakily scribbling notes to himself.
Clearly gearing up to compete for the spot.
Seeing how hard these bastards were grinding, Mizuki snapped.
Fine.
You want to climb by stepping on my head?
I don't agree.
At the same time—
Kangetsu, who was collecting and reviewing the Ninja Academy's investigation reports, couldn't stop clicking his tongue in disbelief.
They were unbelievably poor.
How had the Academy survived all these years?
For students, a school isn't just a place to learn.
It's also where they live.
So naturally, the school should provide meals, tools, textbooks, and basic daily supplies.
Some students even needed dorms.
But the Ninja Academy clearly couldn't provide any of that.
So for the kids who needed lodging, some teachers had to carve out time to escort them home, while others had them stay overnight at the teacher's own house.
For the teachers, that was yet another crushing burden.
A vicious cycle, plain and simple.
Kangetsu had done a discreet, personal inspection of the Academy.
And honestly, calling it a "Ninja Academy" was generous—it looked more like one of those dirt-poor rural schools from his previous life, the kind where first through sixth grade all sat in the same classroom.
He rubbed his brow.
Kangetsu didn't believe the Third Hokage "didn't care enough" about the Academy.
If anything, it was the old man's precious darling.
And if even his precious darling looked this shabby and broke…
You could imagine just how insanely low Konoha's economic baseline had sunk.
No wonder, two years ago, even a village like Kumogakure could humiliate Konoha like that—practically squatting on Konoha's head to take a dump.
And the Third Hokage and those other old men still had to smile along, let them do it, and even allow Hyuga Hizashi to be forced to die.
Then they had to bow and respectfully see the Kumogakure delegation out.
Two words.
No money.
War is fought with money.
Back then, whether Konoha could win was one thing.
But if the war dragged on, Konoha itself would collapse first.
As for the Ninja Academy, Kangetsu placed enormous importance on it.
It was the foundation of his future "peach and plum" legacy.
It was also Konoha's talent reservoir for the future.
That was why he'd inspected and researched it in secret—to avoid stirring up unnecessary trouble.
Below him, a Medical Department jōnin waited with a respectful bow, posture bent, hands folded—silent and obedient.
Waiting for Konoha's future department head to give orders.
What? Kangetsu wasn't officially their boss yet?
Please.
That was Konoha's money god.
Was that the same thing?
The money god was already paying to support them, and on top of that, he was the future head of the Medical Department.
So if they followed his lead…
Wasn't that only natural?
What? Not according to protocol?
You see these crisp stacks of banknotes?
Protocol?
How much is "protocol" worth?
"Good work," Kangetsu said, flipping through the report. "This investigation is detailed."
"It looks like the Medical Department is capable, after all."
The jōnin's heart burned hot.
Earning the future boss's approval was obviously a good thing.
"Oh, right."
Kangetsu glanced up casually. "If I remember correctly, you've got three sons?"
"Ahem… You flatter me, sir."
"Nothing to be embarrassed about. Expanding the family line—human nature."
"Tell you what. Your eldest is about the right age. Send him over to Tobacco Sales District 4.3 and let him try his hand."
—Hiss.
The jōnin nearly burst with joy on the spot.
Brothers!
It's finally my family's turn to make money!
"Yes, Kangetsu-sama! My boy won't let you down!"
He turned on his heel and left immediately.
He knew Kangetsu-sama's style—decisive and lightning-fast, no patience for subordinates who dragged their feet.
He wanted to show that same quality.
But the spring in his step was impossible to hide.
Anyone could tell at a glance.
This guy definitely went to the money god to cry poor.
The kids who cry get candy, after all.
Look at him—he's practically wearing the candy on his face.
When he got home, the jōnin promptly booted his eldest son right out of bed.
My good son!
Your good days are here!
Go to the tobacco district and rake it in!
You'd better rake it in by the fistful!
(End of Chapter)
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