The tulip trading room buzzed with excitement, the voices of speculators filling every corner. Danzo Shimura, still riding the high from the previous day's gains, leaned in as one of the older, more experienced traders explained the meaning of "Show-Hand" in the gambling and speculation world.
Danzo listened carefully, absorbing every word, though the concept was still somewhat abstract to him.
"Show-Hand is a kind of wisdom?" Danzo repeated thoughtfully, savoring the phrase. Something about it struck him as profound, though he could not yet fully articulate why.
"Young man," the trader said, his voice firm but encouraging, "if you have a great goal, you must work tirelessly, countless times. Opportunities, however, appear only once or twice. When they do… you must seize them. Go all-in. You are young; even if you lose, it's not the end. You can start over."
The room erupted into a chorus of similar advice, motivational slogans bouncing from one person to another. Danzo recognized the pattern: it was classic market bravado, a mix of motivational speech and self-promotion—a kind of pyramid of confidence built on ambition, risk, and social proof.
It didn't matter that some had made empty claims. For those who succeeded, the words became legends. For those who failed, it was someone else's problem. In this world of speculation, money and pride danced a precarious waltz.
"Exactly! Young people should be fearless. Forge ahead! Passion in youth defines a person's potential!" one trader shouted, slapping the table for emphasis.
"Right! If you hesitate now, when will you act?" another chimed in, the room filling with cheers, laughter, and the hum of opportunity.
Danzo felt his emotions rise with the room's energy. His heart thumped, his imagination racing. Three hundred thousand taels earned in just one night… he thought. If it's ten million, that would be three million! If it's a hundred million… thirty million! The possibilities seemed limitless.
A flush of excitement coursed through him. Making money, he realized, could be as effortless as breathing—if only one had the courage and foresight. But reality quickly tempered his fantasy. This was not his money to gamble recklessly—it was the village's and his family's funds. Any misstep could bring disaster.
Danzo shook his head, trying to banish the reckless thoughts, but a seed had been planted. The idea of going "all-in" lingered at the edge of his mind. Perhaps I could increase my position… carefully… strategically.
Time moved swiftly in this lively environment. Even as the room filled with laughter and chatter, the clock reminded Danzo that it was nearly noon. Reluctantly, he tore himself away from the speculators and prepared to meet Sarutobi Hiruzen.
"I have to quietly work hard to make money and surprise everyone," he murmured to himself. "Let Hiruzen regret underestimating me." A small, confident smile played at his lips as he strode toward their meeting place.
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Meeting Hiruzen
Hiruzen awaited him, calm as ever. "Danzo, how did your mission go this morning?" he asked, curious about the shopping errands Danzo had been assigned.
Danzo, who had spent the morning sipping tea and engaging in conversation with speculators, could only answer perfunctorily. "Well, same as always. I ran into a bunch of profiteers, but that's to be expected. Nothing to worry about."
Hiruzen blinked, slightly perplexed. Danzo's energy and cheerful demeanor suggested he had achieved more than he let on. Strange… so happy, yet he claims he hasn't accomplished anything. Hiruzen made a mental note to observe his companion closely, though he said nothing further.
"Let's eat, then," Danzo said, producing his secret weapon: a gesture of invitation to a restaurant he knew Hiruzen would accept. Predictably, Hiruzen's curiosity and appetite ensured that Danzo's plan worked perfectly.
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The Fire Nation Palace
Far from the tulip market, another scene unfolded in the Fire Nation Palace.
"Cheng, you are finally here. Look at this letter—what should we do?" the Daimyo of the Land of Fire asked, handing a carefully sealed document to Uchiha Makoto, who had rushed to the capital overnight.
This was not a message to be handled through correspondence alone; it required face-to-face deliberation. Makoto took the letter with a calm demeanor, understanding the gravity of the situation.
"Your Highness, please allow me to review the contents first," Makoto said, settling into a seat and examining the paper.
The letter, originating from Senju Tobirama, outlined the current Konoha plotline. However, much of the information had been exaggerated or fabricated by the Daimyo, likely to manipulate the political landscape to his advantage.
Makoto's sharp eyes scanned the letter. He understood the general situation: Konoha remained cautious, hesitant to cooperate fully with the Land of Fire due to the perceived threat from Hashirama Senju. This hesitation was advantageous. The slower the Daimyo began negotiations, the more room Makoto had to maneuver, to influence the outcome strategically.
The letter also mentioned the possibility of Hashirama visiting the Daimyo personally with gifts to secure cooperation. Makoto understood the subtext: such diplomacy would not bind the Daimyo if he remained skeptical or resistant. Time was a tool to manipulate, and Makoto intended to use it wisely.
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A Calculated Pause
Makoto considered his options. "Don't rush," he muttered quietly to himself. Let the negotiations unfold slowly, let the bullets fly while he strategized. He would position himself carefully, remaining in the loop without exposing his full intentions.
The Daimyo, observing Makoto's measured attention, spoke again. "Makoto, as the Daimyo, I do not wish to meet with an extremely dangerous ninja like Senju Hashirama. What do you suggest we do?"
Makoto raised an eyebrow. The question implied responsibility and authority, but it also provided an opportunity. If he could manage Senju Hashirama effectively, he could elevate his own status while keeping the Daimyo cautious and reliant on his counsel.
"I…?" Makoto started, before coughing to hide his smirk. A confident, controlled laugh escaped him. If I truly had the power to deal with Hashirama Senju, the first thing I would do is teach you, Daimyo, a lesson in humility.
A real man, Makoto thought, is born between heaven and earth. How could one remain subservient or oppressed for long when he possessed vision, skill, and the courage to seize opportunities? His gaze hardened, reflecting the conviction of someone who had already decided to rise above mediocrity.
He smiled faintly, leaning back in his seat, contemplating the complex political web that surrounded Konoha, the Daimyo, and Hashirama. Every move mattered. Every delay or misstep could become an advantage or a trap. And Makoto would navigate it all with precision.
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Danzo's Parallel Journey
Meanwhile, Shimura Danzo returned to the bustling streets, a secret excitement hidden beneath his calm exterior. The tulip market had taught him lessons beyond speculation: patience, observation, and the quiet thrill of strategic risk-taking.
Every trader, every speculator, every boastful statement he overheard became a piece of his evolving strategy. Danzo's mind, though young in experience, now began to see patterns and opportunities where others only saw chaos.
Three hundred thousand taels in one night… just the beginning, he thought. The market is alive, and so am I. Patience, strategy, and courage—these will guide my path.
And in that moment, both Danzo and Makoto, in different worlds and under different pressures, understood the same truth: opportunity favors those who are bold, perceptive, and willing to act decisively.
For Danzo, it was the tulip market. For Makoto, it was the intricate dance of politics and power. Both journeys were just beginning, and the lessons they learned today would shape the men they were destined to become.
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