Time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, it was time for the banquet to begin.
During this interval, the Fire Daimyō took a moment to write a letter to Uchiha Makoto, informing him that he intended to consult Makoto about whether or not he should provide financial support to Konoha.
In truth, the Daimyō had no desire whatsoever to fund Konoha.
Once Konoha became strong, he would be the one in danger.
But considering Senju Hashirama's iron fists, the Daimyō remained—outwardly at least—perfectly dignified.
If Uchiha Makoto could resolve this issue, that would be ideal.
If not—
He would simply give Konoha the money.
After all, he was a man of refinement.
At the Banquet
The Daimyō wore a genial smile as he warmly entertained Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzō.
They were sons of clan heads—worth cultivating relations with.
Hiruzen and Danzō, for their part, were clearly flattered.
In their eyes, the Fire Daimyō was a figure of incomparable nobility—arguably the most exalted person in the entire shinobi world.
However, their attention was soon hijacked by something far more immediate.
Food.
One exquisitely prepared dish after another was placed before them, their stomachs rumbling loudly in protest.
"I'm digging in!"
"I'm digging in!"
Without the slightest hesitation, the two attacked the table like starving beasts, devouring the food with the ferocity of true shinobi.
Half-grown boys could eat a household dry—this was no exaggeration.
They were at the age of rapid growth, and as ninja who constantly refined chakra, their appetites were terrifying. The surrounding nobles stared in stunned silence.
The table was cleared in no time.
The Daimyō waved a hand, signaling for another full spread to be served.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
While the two young ninja focused solely on eating, the nobles at the banquet had entirely different priorities.
They hadn't come to eat.
They had come to socialize—to expand connections, display status, and, of course—
To show off.
Groups of nobles gathered together, chatting animatedly. One of them produced a carefully prepared rare tulip, instantly becoming the center of attention.
At present, no symbol better represented refinement and status in the Land of Fire.
The surrounding nobles drifted toward him almost unconsciously.
"A red-and-white variegated tulip—an exceptional specimen!"
"Absolutely stunning!"
"Where did you acquire it? It must have cost a fortune!"
Praise poured in endlessly.
"Money?" the noble scoffed lightly.
"Only five million ryō."
"Such a trivial sum—for a man of my standing and cultivation."
In truth, five million ryō had made his heart bleed.
But it was worth it.
The admiration.
The prestige.
The confirmation of superior taste.
Most importantly—
He had bought it early.
At current market prices, a tulip of this caliber would cost tens of millions of ryō, if it could be bought at all.
A priceless commodity.
"Once I've shown it off enough," he thought smugly,
"I'll find a chance to sell it. Consider it an investment."
Tulip prices were still rising steadily.
Major nobles filled entire rooms with flowers to display status, while more and more aristocrats rushed into the market.
Meanwhile, wealthy merchants hoarded inventory, eager to buy low and sell high.
A Collision of Worlds
"What are they all gathered around?" Danzō asked, rising from his seat after eating his fill.
Moments later, after listening in—
They understood.
All this commotion…
Was over a single flower.
"It's just a flower," Danzō said dismissively.
"What's so special about that?"
He was a pure shinobi of the Warring States mindset. Aristocratic hobbies held no appeal for him.
Staring at flowers was a waste of time—far better spent training chakra control, practicing shuriken throws, or refining ninjutsu.
Then—
Snippets of whispered conversation reached their ears.
"That fellow really struck gold—five million ryō for that tulip."
"…Five million?"
"…Five million ryō?!"
Danzō froze.
"Hiruzen," he whispered urgently, eyes wide,
"did I hear that wrong? That flower is worth five million ryō?!"
His earlier indifference shattered instantly.
Five million ryō.
A single flower worth more than the reward for many high-risk, life-threatening missions.
Danzō's worldview cracked.
"…You heard it right," Hiruzen said slowly, still stunned himself.
"I heard the same number."
The whispers continued.
"He got lucky."
"That tulip's easily worth ten million ryō now."
"Ten million? Too low. It could double. And that's just today's price."
"I know the market well. I bought a batch for a few million not long ago—guess how much it's worth now?"
"How much?"
"Nearly thirty million ryō. And I still feel like selling now would be a loss. I'm thinking of buying more—the price will keep climbing."
"You really hit the jackpot. I was planning to buy in as well. Why don't we pool our funds this time?"
"At current prices, it's practically free money. Even a dog could walk in and earn a few million ryō."
Danzō suddenly reached out and pinched Hiruzen's thigh.
"Ow! Danzō, what are you doing?!"
"I'm checking if I'm dreaming."
"Then pinch your own leg!"
Hiruzen rubbed his thigh angrily.
"This tulip business is insane," Danzō muttered, face pale.
"One flower—twenty million ryō."
"…It really is absurd," Hiruzen agreed, clicking his tongue.
"And Hiruzen—did you hear that?"
"They said buying tulips right now is like picking up money off the ground."
Hiruzen looked at Danzō.
On Danzō's face, beneath the shock, he saw something else taking shape—
Greed.
Desire.
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