Late at night, in the Daimyo's Mansion of the Land of Taki, the daimyo sat leisurely playing shogi with his advisors.
"Lord Daimyo, do you think that Uchiha Obito will agree to change the name of his village to 'New Takigakure'?" one of the advisors asked.
"If he doesn't agree, he'll have to," the daimyo replied casually. "These ninjas love to flaunt their power just because they can breathe fire or control water. If you don't keep them in check early, they'll be walking all over me before long…"
The daimyo of the Land of Taki was a portly man with a thick mustache, dressed in layers of formal robes. A ceremonial fan covered half his face.
"But according to the rumors about Uchiha Obito," the advisor added hesitantly, "he doesn't seem like someone who's easily pushed around…"
"Hmph. What does a ninja village need to develop? Funding. And where does that funding come from? Me. From the national treasury," the daimyo snapped, tapping a shogi piece impatiently. "Without my money, who's going to risk their life for some crumbling village?"
He narrowed his eyes. "These ninja need to understand who holds the real power. Whether it's Takigakure or New Takigakure, they're just pawns on my board. Every country in the world runs this way—even the great nations. The daimyos hold the purse strings."
With that, he knocked the opposing king piece off the board. Checkmate.
Yes, this was the current reality of the ninja world. While the world held billions of ordinary citizens, the number of shinobi was tiny—barely reaching 100,000 in total.
This vast difference in numbers made it impossible for ninja to ever truly rule. Before the emergence of ninja clans, each nation maintained standing armies in the hundreds of thousands or even millions. Military spending was astronomical, and any war led to massive casualties and costs.
Then came the rise of shinobi.
Ninjas offered an elegant solution: small, elite forces capable of handling missions that would have required entire battalions. Countries began hiring ninja as substitutes for traditional armies—cutting down on casualties, costs, and chaos.
The ninja clans, initially mercenaries, began to carve out a niche for themselves.
But this model created instability. Powerful clans like the Senju or Uchiha could be hired by opposing factions. If one nation employed the Senju, the rival would hire the Uchiha to balance the scales. Trust was minimal.
And when peace returned, ninja—trained only for war—had no place.
Then came a man who changed everything: Senju Hashirama, known as the God of Shinobi.
He introduced the one country, one village system, forging lasting partnerships between clans and nations. Ninja were no longer mere tools—they became civil servants, peacekeepers, and protectors. Countries started to assign peacetime missions to ninja, giving them stable livelihoods.
But even this system had limits.
At the end of the day, ninja were still human—flesh and blood. A kunai to the throat ended a career. If a nation truly wanted to wipe out a shinobi village, all it had to do was mobilize a modern army, equip it with armor, catapults, and arrows, and sacrifice numbers. Not even the most powerful village could withstand that forever.
Some nations, like the Wind Country, began slashing ninja funding and investing back into military structures to reduce reliance on shinobi.
The ninja, despite their power, continued to live in a precarious balance.
The manga Naruto never delved deeply into this geopolitical reality, focusing mostly on the ninja's perspective. But behind the curtain, hidden under the glamour and jutsu, lay the harsh truth of a fragile existence—one rooted in politics, power, and economic dependence.
That's why the Daimyo of the Land of Taki believed he could dictate terms to Uchiha Obito.
But the daimyo had overlooked one important detail:
The Land of Taki had no army.
"Lord Daimyo, Uchiha Obito requests an audience. He says it's a matter of great importance!" a guard reported.
The daimyo's hand paused mid-move.
"Tell him that if it's about the name of the ninja village, there's no need for a meeting. My decision is final. From now on, it will be called New Takigakure. If he has a problem with that, he can deal with the consequences!"
"Understood!" The guard bowed and left.
Boom! Boom!
A few minutes later, two loud crashes echoed across the mansion—followed by silence.
"What was that!?" The daimyo and his advisor rushed to the door—
—and froze.
The courtyard was littered with hundreds of unconscious guards. Their armor and weapons lay shattered across the ground, glinting beneath the moonlight.
Obito approached through the snow, dragging the very same soldier who had gone to relay the daimyo's message.
"So this is the famous army of the Land of Taki?" Obito said coolly. "They're not even worth warming up on."
The daimyo's face turned white. Still, he tried to maintain his composure. "U-Uchiha Obito! Do you know where you are right now?! This is the Daimyo's Mansion!"
"I know exactly where I am," Obito said calmly. "That's why I followed the rules and reported my arrival like a good guest. But I also have a rule: if someone gives me three points of respect, I'll return seven. But if someone gives me none—" he tossed the bloodied soldier at the daimyo's feet— "then don't expect mercy."
The daimyo stumbled backward in horror.
"You… You came over this name thing? I-It's fine. I actually think 'Hidden Shadow Village' is… kind of nice, actually. You can use that name if you want. Really—no issue at all."
He was trembling. For all his bravado, he lacked a spine.
"If you truly had the backbone of a leader," Obito murmured, "you wouldn't be some pampered aristocrat ruling a minor country."
The daimyo blinked. "S-So you're agreeing with me about the unified naming?"
"I am," Obito smiled. "One country, one village—it makes sense. But…"
"But what?"
"There's a small correction. From now on, the Land of Taki will be renamed the Land of Shadows."
Boom.
The daimyo stood in stunned silence.
His advisor stepped forward, outraged. "This is absurd! The name 'Land of Taki' has stood for centuries! It's carved into the hearts of millions! Who do you think—"
Squelch.
Obito's masked Sharingan flashed.
The advisor collapsed to the ground, twitching violently before going still—foam on his lips.
The daimyo nearly collapsed from fright. "T-The name of a country… isn't something I can change on a whim! I have to consult the people! Even I don't have that kind of authority!"
Obito gave a low chuckle. "I'm a reasonable man. I'll give you three days. If the change is made, then we'll move forward together under the one country, one village principle. But if it's not…"
He leaned in, voice like cold steel. "Let's just say a lot of people might suddenly become very interested in your job as daimyo."
He vanished into a swirl of space—Kamui taking him away.
The daimyo collapsed into a heap on the floor. His ornate fan-like hat fell off, revealing a pale, sweat-soaked scalp.
In the history of the ninja world, many have assassinated daimyos in secret.
But never before had a shinobi openly used force to coerce one.
Never had a village leader walked into a daimyo's mansion and issued a naked threat of violence.
No one had dared—until now.
Until Obito.