The stunning success of Konoha's commercial street hit Fugaku like a shot of pure adrenaline.
He would not—could not—wait any longer. He immediately summoned every clan executive to an emergency meeting that would decide the family's future.
This time, however, the venue wasn't the gloomy underground chamber beneath Naka Shrine, but the bright, spacious conference hall at Police Headquarters.
Fugaku handed out a proposal drafted personally by Namikaze Shinju: "Preliminary Framework for Expanding the Uchiha Police Force's Mandate and Commercial Transformation."
Many present had never even seen a "proposal" before. The format alone shook them; the contents overturned everything they thought they knew.
"Found an 'Elite Security Division'?" Yadai frowned at the title. "What does that even mean? 'Security'?"
Fugaku gestured for him to keep reading.
The plan detailed the transformation: the Police Force would no longer limit itself to village patrols. It would divide into internal and external units and pull elite members to form a new department dedicated to high-value commercial escort missions, not just in the Land of Fire but across neighboring countries.
It wouldn't be simple mercenary bounty work for any and every client who paid; the core would be safeguarding trade routes and protecting convoys—premium, professional protection.
"What's our edge?" Fugaku explained, standing in for Shinju. "Our Sharingan. For wealthy merchants, there is no stronger guarantee than 'escorted by the Uchiha Police Force's elites.' They may not lack money; what they crave is safety and certainty of arrival. Nothing is more important than that."
"Where there's demand, there's a market. The Sharingan's deterrence is itself a top-tier security service."
The back half of the plan included a complete, modern security-company operations model designed by Shinju: standardized protection workflows, detailed risk assessment systems—even a client rating framework based on wealth and credit.
Its rigor and foresight left even the shrewdest Uchiha executives staring, mouths slightly open.
"Is… is this really feasible? There's no precedent," an elder said. "No one's ever done it. You want our best to… be bodyguards for merchants?"
"This isn't 'being bodyguards,'" Fugaku corrected. "It's converting our strength into wealth and prestige. The Hyuga have already done it. If they can set pride aside to run appraisals, then we Uchiha have no reason to fail. We can set aside our hauteur and deliver true security."
"If no one has set the precedent, then we should be the ones to stand at the front and light the torch. If we wait, other clans will see the same opportunity. They may not be stronger than us—but they won't be weak. By then, it'll be too late."
Driven by the promise of profit—and the Hyuga's proof of concept—the plan passed by unanimous vote.
A month later, the Uchiha Police Force's Elite Security Division officially hung its sign.
Their first major contract came from a silk magnate in the Land of Fire. He needed an escort for a fortune's worth of goods through bandit-ridden mountains to a neighboring country.
Itachi and Shisui personally led the mission, commanding a dozen of the Police Force's finest.
Both carried multiple roles—Itachi still served in ANBU, and both answered to Shinju's Shintei—but in the end, they were Uchiha. They would stand with the clan.
Half a month later, the unit returned unscathed.
They had not only delivered the convoy intact—they had also encountered a bandit force of more than a hundred men.
At the Land of Fire's border, in a narrow canyon, the merchant caravan had been surrounded by blades and snarls; despair hung heavy.
"Hand over the goods and your money! Maybe we'll let you live!" the bandit chief crowed.
The merchant's face went ash-white.
Then a handful of figures ghosted into place at the caravan's front.
At their head stood Itachi and Shisui.
"Uchiha Police Force—on assignment," Itachi said, voice cold. "Surrender now, or be cut down."
The bandits looked at a dozen young shinobi and laughed.
"Just you brats?"
In the next instant, every Uchiha operative opened their eyes.
A score of scarlet tomoe gleamed in the dim canyon.
An invisible pressure crashed over the bandit gang.
"Genjutsu: Sharingan (Illusion Technique: Sharingan)."
Itachi and Shisui didn't even weave signs. With a single look, the first ranks of bandits went glass-eyed and toppled like felled posts.
"Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu (Fire Release: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique)!"
The rest of the unit signed in unison.
Dozens of compressed red fire-lines lanced out from different angles, striking the weapons of the few who still resisted.
Heat roared; iron ran like water.
From beginning to end, the battle lasted less than a minute—an outright annihilation.
A hundred-strong bandit group could not withstand a single exchange with an Uchiha elite team.
Behind them, the merchant and his hired guards gaped. For the first time, they had witnessed—up close—the Uchiha's legendary power.
When the mission ended, the magnate seized Itachi's hand, promising triple the agreed reward on the spot and requesting an exclusive long-term contract with the Uchiha Police Force.
Word reached Konoha, and the Uchiha district erupted.
When the first massive payout was distributed to the participants, the weight of the coin purses in their palms felt unreal.
"By the gods… this one mission pays more than I earned all last year!"
"In the old days, when we patrolled the village, civilians would avoid us—afraid a late glance would bring trouble. But escorting the convoy back, the dockworkers were shouting, 'Uchiha-dono!'"
"It felt damn good. I want more."
Money's impact—and the world's changed attitude—reshaped every Uchiha's thinking.
They were stunned to realize their Sharingan could do more than fight and intimidate at home; it could earn hard coin and win respect.
The dreaded kekkei genkai, the fearsome Sharingan, became a true guardian's badge. Even the Uchiha themselves found it a little surreal.
Pride and belonging, built on strength and prosperity, soared to heights unseen. So this—this is what real recognition feels like. In the past, they had never dared to imagine it. They had sealed themselves off, avoiding contact with the village.
Fugaku stood in his office, eyes on the swelling clan accounts and the training field outside, where faces shone again with light.
At last, he let go of his final attachment to power.
He understood: Shinju had found the Uchiha a broad road to true glory—ten thousand times better than walking the path of rebellion.
The hawkish rhetoric that once roared through the clan shriveled under the twin hammer blows of profit and honor.
Reality is plain: if you can eat well, live safely, and keep a steady life, who wants to gamble everything?
No one spoke of resistance anymore. No one grumbled about village "injustice."
They were busy—taking contracts, earning money, basking in respect from beyond their walls.
The Uchiha—the village's greatest internal fault line—had been resolved by Shinju through economics and turned into one of his sharpest blades… and one of Konoha's steadiest sources of revenue.
Yes, the village leadership and clans had already "reconciled" with the Uchiha—but words alone were not a foundation. The elders who knew the old secrets could maintain peace, perhaps, but who could guarantee their children would?
So even when Fugaku shouted slogans and Konoha made promises, Shinju smiled—and thought farther ahead, seeking a concrete road for Uchiha prosperity.
The knot must be untied by the one who tied it. For the Uchiha, this solution leveraged their strengths and won true respect. Only now could one call it a near-perfect resolution.
Konoha's transformation blazed on.
But not everyone welcomed it.
Old noble houses in the Daimyō's court—powers whose interests were threatened—began gathering in the dark, preparing to resist this revolution led by a boy they had never heard of.
After all, for many hidden villages, the purse strings still ran through the Daimyō's estates.
(End of Chapter)
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