The Fire Daimyō gazed at the calligraphy before him, slowly tracing the characters stroke by stroke. The midday sunlight bathed his body in warmth, soothing both mind and spirit.
Whenever troublesome matters weighed on him, this was how he calmed himself.
Calligraphy had a way of settling the heart.
And who, exactly, had caused the Daimyō such distress?
The answer was obvious.
That innately dangerous Senju Hashirama.
The so-called "Hashirama threat" that Uchiha Makoto had tirelessly impressed upon him had long since taken root in the Daimyō's heart—and now, it was sprouting.
Konohagakure had entered its next phase.
Absorbing ninja clans.
According to reliable intelligence, in just a few short months, more than one powerful clan had already made preparations to join the village founded by Hashirama.
The Hyūga Clan.
The Sarutobi Clan.
The Shimura Clan.
And in the future—there would only be more.
This filled the Fire Daimyō with deep unease.
Suddenly, he focused his mind, sweeping all distracting thoughts aside. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, his wrist flowing with the motion of his breath as the brush danced like a dragon across the page.
"Diligent governance, love for the people; clean administration, harmony among men."
"Mm… today's calligraphy is quite good."
The Daimyō narrowed his eyes, admiring his work for a moment longer than usual.
His writing was better than normal, and his mood had improved considerably. He then instructed the attendant standing nearby to carefully collect the paper.
"Your Highness," the attendant reported, "Lord Makoto has sent an envoy. He wishes to discuss an important matter."
The Daimyō nodded and rose, leaving the room to enter the reception hall, where Kazuma sat waiting on a cushioned seat.
Seeing the elaborately dressed Daimyō, Kazuma immediately stood and bowed deeply.
"Your Highness. Lord Makoto sends his regards."
"Mm, I understand," the Daimyō replied kindly.
"Relax, young man. Sit. Let's talk."
The Daimyō was a dignified ruler. Toward shinobi who served him, his attitude was always gentle.
After all, the Akatsuki Village founded by Uchiha Makoto was a crucial piece in his future strategy to counterbalance Konoha.
A single ninja village must never dominate completely.
The shinobi world required balance.
After some brief pleasantries, the conversation shifted to the main topic.
The Daimyō had always taken a keen interest in Akatsuki Village's construction progress. Seeing the cue, Kazuma immediately understood.
"I'll focus on what you like to hear," he said smoothly.
"Everything is proceeding as planned. Construction is stable, development is positive. Please rest assured—everything is under control."
Though the recruitment of ninja clans was, in reality, progressing slowly, Kazuma's composure never wavered as he confidently spun his tale.
Everything was under control.
The only real problem—
Funding.
If the Daimyō were willing to approve a special allocation of one hundred billion ryō, Akatsuki Village would immediately flourish. Even those major clans that currently looked down on Akatsuki would soon come knocking, begging to join.
Money truly was king.
Join the village and receive five billion ryō as settlement compensation—who wouldn't be tempted?
Of course.
If Kazuma ever dared to speak such numbers aloud, the Daimyō would throw him out on the spot.
Are you trying to rob the treasury?
Do you even know how much the country's annual military budget is?
Still, Kazuma stated Akatsuki Village's need for funding. The Daimyō nodded thoughtfully and raised five fingers.
"Five billion ryō," he said. "That's the maximum additional support I can provide."
It was not a small sum.
In fact, that amount roughly equaled the liquid reserves of a major ninja clan.
But Akatsuki Village aspired to become a great power in the shinobi world.
This amount alone could never satisfy Uchiha Makoto's ambitions.
Seeing that the atmosphere was favorable, Kazuma finally revealed the true purpose of this visit.
"Your Highness," he said, "this time, I've come on behalf of Lord Makoto to propose a business venture."
"A very large one."
"It will require your cooperation—and your financial support."
The Daimyō frowned, clearly surprised.
In his view, Uchiha Makoto and Kazuma were still fundamentally shinobi.
Shinobi survived by taking missions. And the money from missions was trivial compared to aristocratic wealth.
What kind of big business could ninja possibly run?
"Your Highness," Kazuma continued, "have you ever heard of tulips?"
"I have," the Daimyō replied.
"That is precisely the business we intend to pursue."
A smile spread across Kazuma's face as he vividly described the Tulip Bubble Plan devised by Makoto.
His eloquence was remarkable. In just a few sentences, the Daimyō's interest was piqued.
"First, we need your cooperation to ensure that tulips become widely known among the aristocracy. To that end, Lord Makoto has devised a plan called 'A Thousand Gold for a Single Tulip.'"
"Interesting," the Daimyō mused.
"Inflating the value through prestige?"
"A brilliant idea."
He stroked his mustache, growing increasingly intrigued.
He had no doubt about the feasibility of such a plan. He knew the rotten nature of nobles far too well.
Years ago—
Because of a single well-written essay, the nobles of the capital had erupted into a frenzy of imitation. Everyone praised it. Everyone copied it.
If you didn't follow the trend, you were uncultured—unworthy of mingling with their refined circles.
They copied it day and night.
Some even paid others to copy it on their behalf, claiming it was to "share in refined elegance."
By the end of that farce, the price of paper in the capital had skyrocketed severalfold.
With tulips—
As long as he cooperated with Makoto's plan, those nobles would undoubtedly repeat history.
"This business is indeed interesting," the Daimyō said slowly.
"But it doesn't seem as exaggerated as you claim."
He shook his head.
At best, it might yield a few hundred million—or perhaps a few billion—ryō.
A respectable sum, yes.
But hardly enough to truly astonish him.
"No, Your Highness," Kazuma replied calmly.
"That's not the end of it."
"Tulips are merely the bait. The real core lies in the second phase."
"Before prices skyrocket, we sign contracts with flower growers. Then, once prices surge, we leak the existence of those contracts and begin trading them."
"By repeatedly transferring the contracts and leveraging massive profit margins, we'll draw people in."
"At that point—nobles and merchants from not only the Fire Country, but potentially the entire shinobi world, will go mad over it."
The Fire Daimyō inhaled sharply.
He was genuinely shaken by Uchiha Makoto's audacity.
This style of financial manipulation had never existed in this era. He couldn't even imagine how many people would be dragged into such a game once it began.
He did not doubt their greed for a second.
Not just nobles—but merchants as well.
These people were born to chase profit. As long as the returns were tempting enough, there was nothing they wouldn't dare attempt—even if it ended in total ruin.
And because the Fire Daimyō understood them so well, his thoughts went even further.
When this vast money game finally ended—
How would it be brought to a close?
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