I cleaned the soot off my hands with the cloth of a merchant's robe—fresh, white, and creased at the sleeves just enough to look wealthy, but not enough to look arrogant. It was a balance that earned respect without drawing suspicion.
You had to play the game right.
Especially in New Konoha, where every smile had a shadow, and every shadow reported to someone.
---
The Capital Registration Office sat atop the highest hill of what used to be the Uchiha district. Now, it overlooked wide stone roads, chakra-lit towers, and automated seal transports running on rail systems. A mix of old shinobi customs and militarized order gave the city a strange elegance.
Here, peace wore armor.
And I was here to wear a mask.
---
"Name?" the officer asked without looking up.
I smiled. "Daigo. Civilian class. Former trader from the Land of Rivers."
He glanced at the forged papers I handed him—perfectly aged, chakragraph stamped, and carrying a fabricated history so mundane it was forgettable.
He squinted. "Background check will take a day. Stay in the provisional block. No trouble, no seals, no weapons."
"Of course," I said.
I bowed.
Then I left.
---
The provisional housing district was a stone compound surrounded by chakra suppressor pillars. Dozens of migrants from every corner of the Elemental Nations wandered inside. Some were hopeful—farmers, smiths, retired shinobi. Others were desperate—former rebels who traded their pride for warm beds.
A mother shouted at her son for playing too close to the fence. A vendor argued with a gate warden over bribe amounts. A man coughed blood behind a building, untreated, unnoticed.
This was what "peace" looked like when you weren't strong enough to afford a better life.
Still, none of them questioned it.
Naruto's rule had ended wars. His empire ensured food. His system punished rebellion—swiftly and visibly. Most people preferred chains over corpses.
---
Later that night, I sat near a fire in the common area, listening.
"...my brother's squad was assigned to Suna's border," a man said. "Patrol's been tight since that missing girl case."
"The one with red eyes?"
"No, no. That was the Hyūga scandal. This was different."
Whispers.
Fear.
The ninja still ruled behind curtains.
I spoke up, carefully. "Strange. Even now, things like that still happen?"
The man shrugged. "There's no utopia. But at least the war's over. Back in the day, the Kaguya used to butcher people for sport."
I nodded. "And now...?"
"Now we just disappear quietly."
Laughter. But no one laughed too loud.
---
Later, in my bunk, I opened my scroll under a candle's flicker and read through the chakra lineage formula again. It wasn't ready. Not yet.
But soon.
Very soon.
---
The next morning, I was summoned.
A man in silver-blue robes stood at the gate, eyes cold, posture military. His headband had no symbol—just a number: Division Fourteen.
"You've been reassigned," he said flatly. "Aptitude was detected. You'll be evaluated for auxiliary admin placement."
He didn't wait for questions.
I followed.
---
They brought me to a wide dome where hundreds of new applicants were being tested. Most were screened for labor, supply chain duty, or clerical roles.
But a select few of us were led deeper.
Into the inner ring.
---
Naruto's Hierarchy System was rigid.
Five Grand Divisions—one per former major village—ruled under his command. Each had their own specialization: military, logistics, internal security, innovation, and diplomacy. And at the center, a Council of Ministers directly answered to the Supreme Leader.
I wasn't aiming for glory yet.
Just a foothold.
They gave me a seal evaluation, a logic test, and a chakra theory riddle. My answers were sharp, restrained—brilliant, but not suspiciously so. Enough to raise interest, not alarms.
One examiner raised an eyebrow. "You're no ordinary trader."
I shrugged. "I used to help my uncle with scripts back home."
They wrote something on my file.
I was accepted into the Intelligence Draft Pool.
It was the first step.
From here, I could climb.
---
That night, I wandered through the city's outer district. Neon seals lit the alleyways. Children played under watchful patrols. Vendors smiled at passing shinobi.
And above it all stood the tower.
Naruto's tower.
Tall. Stark. Unshakable.
From here, he watched everything.
Controlled everything.
And soon, I'd stand inside that tower too.
But not as a servant.
Not as a follower.
As the hand that would one day crush it from within.
---