The crackdown hadn't caught Hinata off guard. Anything involving real profit could attract suppression—that was a given. Humans were a species wired for jealousy and greed. Even when their own interests weren't at stake, they'd still find reasons to wreck things. And now that the Fox Tales franchise had become one of Konoha's top tax contributors, the reaction was entirely predictable.
Judging by the damage reports across the five nations, the Hidden Sand Village in the Land of Wind was by far the most hostile. Their distribution point hadn't just been torched—every sales clerk had been slaughtered. The official report attributed it to a bandit raid, but that story wasn't worth the paper it was written on.
Hinata didn't spare a second thought for the compensation owed to the dead staff. What concerned her was that Fox Tales had clearly reached a critical threshold.
Cross it, and everything from here on out would accelerate exponentially. But if this wall of suppression held her back, the franchise might never recover its momentum.
"That said, what's the plan? Request more escort missions from the Hokage? Or cut back on exports to the other nations?"
Kakashi regarded Hinata with mild uncertainty. He wasn't trying to drum up business for the mission desk—he was simply curious about what she'd do. As a Jōnin with a far clearer view of the political landscape, he felt it was his responsibility to help her make sound decisions.
"The first option is viable. The second is rejected outright. In fact, I want the factory to increase print runs and accelerate distribution. While maintaining healthy margins, I want the per-unit price of each art book reduced by three hundred ryō."
Hinata's tone was perfectly flat. As far as she was concerned, this amounted to a declaration of war—a commercial variant, but war nonetheless. Nothing she hadn't dealt with before.
The cardinal rule when facing suppression: never retreat. In a current this fierce, one step back meant an avalanche of retreat, and clawing your way forward again would cost exponentially more.
And as if to reward those who pushed through, human nature had another quirk: people invariably treasured things they'd had to struggle for. If getting your hands on a copy of Fox Tales required real effort, even someone who wasn't particularly interested in that kind of book would show it more patience and goodwill.
In the past, the only "effort" a product could demand from consumers was its price—and that kind of obstacle bred resentment quickly. Rich buyers who could afford it wouldn't care about the product either way.
But now, with free obstacle-makers volunteering their services, Hinata was more than happy to welcome them. She'd generously lower the price as a reward for anyone brave enough to keep buying.
Those hostile villages might think that intimidation and fear were enough to scare readers away, but they'd clearly forgotten another fundamental human trait: defiance. If that rebellious instinct could be ignited, what you'd get was nothing short of a revolution.
"Tch. So the plan is to go on the offensive."
Even Kakashi couldn't help feeling a touch of genuine respect. Shinobi combat typically demanded deception and cunning, but Hinata's unyielding fearlessness was the kind of thing anyone could admire, any era.
"No—I don't even consider those idiots my opponents. Shino, file a commission request with the Hokage. From now on, all outbound art book shipments are to be classified as top-tier B-rank escort missions. The escort period ends at the border of each destination country."
Hinata blew on her fingernails with casual indifference, her voice easy and natural. The announcement drew startled looks from everyone present.
"W-wait a moment. The situation is already bad enough—are we really going to abandon those export convoys once they cross the border? With all due respect, that's basically sending them to the slaughter!"
Kiba—the most impulsive member after Naruto—couldn't hold back. Even his instinctive deference to Hinata's authority couldn't override the loyal dog-ninja's natural impulse to protect his own people.
"Calm down. I'm not finished."
Hinata flicked an even gaze at Kiba, then sat forward and continued. "Simultaneously with the domestic B-rank escort request, dispatch communications to the shinobi villages of each export destination requesting equivalent B-rank escort missions from their end. The job: escort the publishing convoy to its designated city and remain on duty until all sales are complete. In addition, reduce the overall number of shipments while increasing the volume per delivery."
Stunned silence filled the room. Hinata hadn't abandoned the convoys at all—she'd found a devastatingly elegant way to dump the problem right back in the enemy's lap.
"I see... if we suspect the attacks are coming from those villages, then we make those villages responsible for guarding the shipments. If the mission fails, their own reputation takes the hit. They won't be able to touch the convoys anymore."
Sakura, always quickest with the textbook logic, gasped out the realization first. Hinata's maneuver was exquisitely clean. A shinobi village's entire reason for existing was to accept outside commissions and complete them with cold, unflinching professionalism—building reputation and trust in the process.
So no matter how much they despised Konoha, as long as the current era remained nominally peaceful, the other four villages would have to accept a legitimate commission and throw their own shinobi's lives behind completing it.
"The mission costs will be higher, sure, but this really is the best solution."
Kakashi exhaled softly. Even by his political standards, Hinata's play was masterful. The risk of attack wouldn't vanish entirely, but at least Konoha's own ninja wouldn't have to shoulder the full burden anymore. Escorting only to the national border would dramatically improve their survival rates.
"I've always said it: any problem you can solve with money isn't really a problem. That said, our revenue will take a hit from the increased mission costs, which means we need to keep growing. And that brings us to the main agenda."
Hinata sat upright, eyes narrowing.
"I've made my decision. We're moving into television. You all know what I mean."
Television, film, even tape players—all of these things existed in the shinobi world. But the last great war had ended barely a few decades ago, and these technologies, which should have flourished, had instead been met with surprising indifference. On one side, there was a total absence of compelling content. On the other, the distribution and retail infrastructure remained woefully underdeveloped. The result: the entire medium was stuck in a half-dead limbo.
Hinata had ignored television until now because the investment required was enormous and the return uncertain. But the moment had arrived.
Once economic development reached a certain critical mass, it became a force unto itself. For Hinata, this world's challenges were actually easier than what she'd faced before. Money could hire ninja from any village willing to risk their lives for pay—far more manageable than the problems of her original reality.
Power decides everything. Not a bad world at all, was it?
"Huh? But... would anyone watch? I mean, I catch the occasional cosmetics segment, but it's really hard to predict..."
Ino looked at Hinata uncertainly. Her remark made the current state of television painfully obvious: dull and lifeless. And for good reason.
Every country currently had exactly one channel.
Beyond the occasional product advertisement and whatever announcements the feudal lords needed to make, there was essentially nothing worth watching. Dead air—a static "No Programs Currently Airing" screen—was a routine occurrence.
Knowing all this, Hinata felt an almost lonely sense of invincibility. A market this vast and this barren, with her as the only player—comfortable, certainly, but perhaps a touch too easy.
"The future is always uncertain. But the greater the risk, the greater the reward on the other side. Just like how we built everything we have from nothing."
Hinata raised her cup of black tea. If there was one thing about Konoha's shops she genuinely appreciated, it was the quality of their tea leaves. Something about chakra's effect on cultivated plants made the premium blends here richly, intoxicatingly fragrant.
"Ugh, looks like things aren't going to quiet down anytime soon. And we're literally one week from graduation—is now really the time for something this big?"
Shikamaru sighed with weary resignation. Refusing was pointless, so he resignedly listened up, ready to receive orders.
"No issue. Becoming shinobi won't interfere with our business decisions. We can file designated mission requests whenever necessary."
Rising to her feet, Hinata's tone was breezy. "So—everything from here on out is in your hands, Shikamaru. Shino and the others will assist you. Make it clean."
As Hinata made for the sliding door, Shino spoke up, a faint crease in his brow. "Forgive my asking, but you won't be handling this personally?"
"The first princess of the Hyuga clan can hardly involve herself in affairs that entangle too many other families. Besides, I have other matters to attend to."
A smile she couldn't quite suppress tugged at the corner of her mouth. Hinata knew what this feeling was—excitement. Others saw only the adversity of being targeted and suppressed by every nation. She saw the signal for what it really was: an era demanding she pick up the pace.
Deep within the Hidden Rain Village, a small paper airplane drifted down into Konan's hands. She unfolded it, scanned the message, and her elegant brows drew together. Turning to face the rooftop terrace, she spoke softly. "Pain. She's requesting contact. Same location—the Land of Fire border."
"Oh? It seems she's finally ready to make a new move. So... will you be going?"
Pain gazed out at the sky, his response entirely unsurprised. But the second half of his question was directed at a figure lurking in the shadows. The stranger's body was swathed entirely in a black cloak, their face concealed behind a spiral-patterned mask.
"Of course. If she truly is a valuable business partner, then granting her limited use of Akatsuki's resources is perfectly acceptable."
The mysterious figure spoke in a faintly hoarse voice. Through the mask's single right-eye opening, a cold red gleam flickered to life.
"Which is why I'll be going personally this time—to see exactly what sort of person she is."