A daimyō—a unique existence in this world and a symbol of a nation. In an era where ninjutsu reigns supreme, you might not use one, but you certainly can't do without one.
White Tree Town's busiest district was a long street filled with extravagant flower houses. The largest tea house was bustling with people, and at its entrance stood a line of elegantly dressed women, welcoming and bidding farewell to guests.
Before long, the crowd at the tea house's entrance instinctively parted to create a pathway. A group of fierce-looking samurai, each with a katana at their waist, strode forward, clearing the way. At the center of this formation was a middle-aged man clad in a refined kimono, his face lean and sharp, holding a folding fan in one hand. Even if he wasn't obscenely wealthy, he was undoubtedly someone of high status.
The women's eyes sparkled with excitement as they watched him approach.
A plump middle-aged woman, her face thick with powder and rouge, bustled forward, her expression a flowery smile.
"Honored guest, are you here to enjoy a performance or perhaps partake in some leisure? Our establishment offers full-service entertainment, ensuring—"
Before she could finish, one of the samurai grabbed her and pulled her away from the man.
"Step aside! Our lord isn't here to indulge. If you don't want to die, stay out of the way!"
The samurai's fierce glare sent shivers down the woman's spine, and the surrounding hostesses quickly backed off. If they weren't here to spend money, then they were likely here to cause trouble. Best to steer clear.
The middle-aged man adjusted his slightly disheveled kimono, tidied by the madam's hands, and glanced at the tea house's sign. A trace of helplessness flickered in his eyes before he shook his head.
"Rest assured, ladies. I'm merely here to find someone. I was raised with a proper education, I wouldn't do anything discourteous."
With those words, he straightened his posture, keeping his gaze level as he stepped inside.
Without delay, he located the designated room. The leading samurai slid the door open, revealing a towering figure leisurely sipping tea.
With a wave of the man's hand, his samurai remained outside while he, accompanied by his aides, entered and sat across from Kakuzu.
"Daimyō, traveling such a long distance must have been quite the burden," Kakuzu remarked calmly, setting his teacup down.
The Daimyō of the Land of Waterfalls snorted heavily at those words.
"Kakuzu, I know you're strong, and I acknowledge you as the next leader of Takigakure. However..."
His expression darkened as he continued, "What you're proposing blatantly violates the rules set by our ancestors. My education does not allow me to accept such an unreasonable agreement."
As he spoke, his aides placed a document on the table—the conditions Kakuzu had presented to the Daimyō.
Clearly, the Daimyō was not in agreement. That was why he had come to negotiate face-to-face.
Kakuzu cast a glance at the document, his voice unhurried. "What's the issue?"
The Daimyō let out a sharp exhale, anger evident in his gaze. He hadn't expected Kakuzu to ask something so ridiculous.
"Kakuzu, you've been a shinobi your entire life, perhaps you've never received a proper education. The name 'Land of Waterfalls' carries profound meaning—it was earned through the blood of our ancestors. Changing the country's name is blasphemous! It violates tradition and goes against everything our forebears fought for—"
The issue at hand was simple: Kakuzu, having seized control of the Land of Waterfalls, wanted a new beginning. He had no desire to be merely recognized as the Fourth Takigakure Leader. He needed a fresh title.
Kakuzu reflected on his turning point in life—the moment he mastered the Earth Grudge Fear technique. That technique had been pioneered by the monks of Nanji Temple.
From this day forth, the Land of Waterfalls would be known as the Land of Dragons, and Takigakure would be renamed Ryūgakure.
As for the Daimyō's so-called education and accusations of blasphemy?
Kakuzu's eyes darkened slightly.
The sliding door behind him opened with a faint swish.
A woman named Aya entered, carrying an enormous suitcase, which she placed atop the table.
"Daimyō, I heard your palace hasn't been renovated in decades. This here is two hundred million ryō—consider it funding for a much-needed reconstruction."
Aya unclasped the suitcase, revealing stacks upon stacks of neatly bundled bills. The Daimyō's throat tightened involuntarily at the sight.
However, it was his aides who truly lost their composure.
"T-Two hundred million?!"
In larger nations like Konohagakure or Iwagakure, such a sum might not be particularly impressive. But the Land of Waterfalls was only a tenth of their size and severely lacking in resources. The annual tax revenue amounted to only a few times this amount, and after essential expenditures, the Daimyō had little left for himself.
If the Daimyō could barely afford to eat, his aides fared even worse.
Two hundred million ryō—this could keep the Daimyō well-fed for a long time.
Before the Daimyō could respond, one of his aides spoke up eagerly.
"Daimyō-sama, according to our ancestors' decrees, it isn't impossible to change the country's name when necessary."
"Yes, yes! 'Land of Waterfalls' and 'Land of Dragons' sound quite similar, don't they? This isn't an unreasonable proposal."
"In fact, Daimyō-sama, your palace could be twice as large as before!"
The aides' chatter filled the room as they rationalized the change.
For a long moment, the Daimyō remained silent, his expression dark. Then, with a sudden movement, he slammed his palm onto the table, silencing the room instantly.
He shot a glare at his aides, his meaning clear—useless ingrates.
Finally, the Daimyō turned back to Kakuzu, his expression grave.
"Kakuzu, as the leader of a village, it has always been your duty to protect both the village and myself. Meanwhile, I govern the nation's tax revenue. And now, you're demanding control over taxation as well?"
His voice grew colder. "Tell me, Kakuzu, are you planning to rebel?"
Kakuzu remained silent as he watched the enraged Daimyō. Standing beside him, Ni understood immediately, forming a simple hand seal.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Outside, the guards stationed around the residence collapsed one by one.
The Daimyō and his many retainers recoiled in fear, jumping nearly three feet into the air. Then, pointing at Kakuzu, they cursed at him in panic.
"K-Kakuzu, don't act recklessly!"
"Let me remind you—he… he is the Daimyō!"
"He represents the entire nation! If you harm him, the other Daimyōs won't—won't let you off!"
Absolute power can solve many problems. That much is true—but only from a micro perspective.
From a broader standpoint, ruling a nation isn't something you can do alone while everyone else stands by, cheering you on. Madara was the most profound lesson in that regard.
You can't keep fighting forever. Eventually, when the time comes to rest, you'll have to integrate into society's fabric, or you'll end up completely isolated.
In the end, Madara's ultimate goal was the Infinite Tsukuyomi—a false world where everyone could find true happiness. But let's not forget: falsehoods are always false.
At times, Kakuzu even suspected that Madara's obsession with that illusion stemmed from his realization that he could no longer fit into reality.
When he left, not a single Uchiha followed him.
So yes, a strong fist can resolve many things, but it cannot solve everything.
Kakuzu's sharp gaze locked onto the trembling daimyo, who was drenched in cold sweat.
Then—
Bang!
Another suitcase was placed on the table by Aya, filled to the brim with one billion ryo.
The daimyo choked on his breath.
The world of men was not the same for everyone. The daimyo of great nations could never understand the struggles of those in smaller countries.
For the leaders of small nations, life was far from comfortable. They had to live frugally while constantly fearing for their lives—coup d'états could happen at any moment.
For the daimyo of the Land of Waterfalls, a bag of rice was a fortune incomprehensible to the Five Great Nations.
"This matter is not up for discussion. From now on, I will control the ninja affairs and the tax system."
Kakuzu's gaze deepened as he stared into the daimyo's eyes.
"Take the money. You will receive this amount every month from now on. Besides, haven't you already taken two billion from me? You've touched my money—whether you accept it or not is no longer your decision. Say no, and your samurai will share the same fate as the ones outside."
The daimyo felt a chill crawl up his spine. His instinct drove him to look down at his hands.
In his panic earlier, he had stood up—only to realize that he was still clutching the two billion ryo he had received before.
Now, some things were simply beyond his control.
A billion ryo every month for personal expenses, enough to renovate his palace—sweat trickled down the daimyo's forehead.
"Kakuzu… about that… you still want me to maintain ties with the other daimyo and try to persuade them…?"
Bang!
Kakuzu slammed his palm onto the table, making it tremble slightly.
He had already spoken enough today.
Since a figurehead was still necessary, he decided to exercise patience one last time.
"Daimyo, have you made up your mind?"
The daimyo stood frozen in place, while his attendants hurriedly nodded their heads in agreement.
Kakuzu wasn't trying to depose the daimyo—he simply wanted him to stay in his lane as a mere symbol of power and not interfere with real governance.
When the daimyo saw Heisei Rokuno enter the room and place another stack of money on the table, his body finally relaxed, as if he had found a form of release.
Without another word, Kakuzu stood up and gave a few instructions before leaving. Their mission for the day was complete. Now, it was up to Heisei Rokuno to entertain the daimyo properly.
Heisei Rokuno nodded. Now that Kakuzu's task was finished, there was no need to keep things tense any longer.
He clapped his hands.
"Ladies, come in."
A group of young women quickly entered, surrounding the daimyo and his attendants.
Seeing the daimyo still frozen in place, Heisei Rokuno chuckled.
"Daimyo, do these ladies suit your tastes?"
The daimyo turned his gaze toward Heisei Rokuno. Memories of his life—impoverished despite his status—flashed through his mind, as did the image of his aging, nagging wife back home.
His expression suddenly changed.
"Rokuno-san, you have an excellent eye. I'm very satisfied. As long as that old brothel madam from earlier isn't here, everything's perfect."
"I see."
Heisei Rokuno laughed as well.
"Daimyo, then you can relax and enjoy yourself here. Everything will be covered by Lord Kakuzu."
"Hahahaha! Kakuzu, I owe you big time!"
The daimyo of the Land of Waterfalls—no, the daimyo of the newly named Land of Dragons—fully immersed himself in the pleasures before him.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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