Uchiha Makoto leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he put down his brush. On the table before him lay a freshly written article, ink still drying. The words seemed alive, vibrant, as though they carried their own energy.
He admired his own work with satisfaction. Not bad… not bad at all. All that effort sneaking glances at Yilin's writing in class wasn't wasted after all. This has the same authentic flavor as her pieces.
The article flowed with a natural rhythm, weaving a story that was pure, heartfelt, and—above all—convincing.
Yes… this will definitely stir something in people's hearts.
Makoto turned his head, looking at Kazuma, who was standing respectfully nearby.
"Kazuma," Makoto asked with a casual air, "what do you think of this article?"
Kazuma hesitated for a moment, his expression flickering strangely. At last, he answered in a firm tone, "Excellent."
The word was simple, but the look on his face wasn't.
Indeed, the piece was well-written—almost too well-written. It was vivid, persuasive, and painted an ideal picture of Akatsuki Village: an efficient business environment, warm humanistic care, and bright prospects for the future. The final line, in particular, was a masterstroke:
"If the current ninja world allowed free migration, then humanity would surely flow toward civilization—and there is no doubt that Akatsuki Village is civilization itself."
A neat, elegant conclusion.
Kazuma couldn't deny it—if he were a businessman, he would already be packing his belongings, preparing to move his wealth into Akatsuki Village.
But still… something about it gnawed at him.
Because, as far as Kazuma knew, Akatsuki Village didn't even have a gold shop yet. And this so-called "anonymous authority" quoted in the article—who on earth was it supposed to be?
Could it be the Daimyo of the Land of Fire himself?
He mulled it over, but before he could piece together the thought, Makoto broke his silence.
"Yes," Makoto said bluntly, seeing through Kazuma's doubts. "I made it all up."
Kazuma froze. "You… what?"
"Every single detail," Makoto said without hesitation, leaning back with his arms crossed. "Fabricated."
For a moment, Kazuma's mouth hung open. His thoughts were in disarray. So it doesn't exist at all? Isn't this basically… cheating?
But the shock quickly gave way to a deeper realization. He looked at his superior with a conflicted face that silently screamed: As expected of Lord Guangying. For him to pull something this outrageous isn't even surprising anymore.
Yes—outrageous, and yet… undeniably effective.
Makoto's eyes gleamed with conviction. He tapped the paper with his finger. "Don't be stingy with the funding. Hire publishing houses, newspaper writers, printing presses—whatever it takes. Have this article printed in bulk. Within three days, I want every major city in the Land of Fire filled with copies of this story."
His tone carried the calm weight of command.
Kazuma blinked. "…Understood, Master Guangying."
Makoto nodded. He knew exactly what he was doing. In the world of politics, truth often mattered less than perception. It didn't matter whether the essay was based on fact or fantasy. What mattered was that it captured people's imaginations.
Public opinion was a weapon. One had to wield it first, before worrying about the details later. Build traffic, create a wave, dominate the conversation—and only then refine the message.
It was a strategy as old as time, and as effective in the ninja world as it was anywhere else.
---
The Spread of the Essay
And so, Makoto's essay began its journey.
In a matter of days, the words spread like wildfire. Printing presses worked around the clock. Newspaper vendors shouted in the streets. Coffee houses and teahouses were abuzz with conversation.
Merchants, scholars, and even some wandering shinobi all discussed the now-famous piece. It appeared not only in the most authoritative newspapers of the Land of Fire but also in respected magazines. Some even claimed that a daimyo—whose identity remained shrouded in mystery—had personally praised the article.
If someone that influential believed it, who were they to doubt?
The result was inevitable.
Wealthy merchants from across the Land of Fire began flocking toward Akatsuki Village. They came in carriages, on horseback, and even on foot, bringing their servants and secretaries. They wanted to see this "civilization" for themselves.
Makoto and Kazuma personally welcomed them, one group after another. Akatsuki Village, with its emphasis on a fair business environment and mutual cooperation, was exactly what they wanted to hear.
The effect snowballed. Within days, the number of merchants officially pledging to settle in Akatsuki Village soared. Word of the village's prosperity spread faster than wildfire.
And while much of it was smoke and mirrors, the momentum was real.
But of course… nothing in the ninja world stayed secret for long.
Neighboring Konoha, always wary of its competitors, quickly picked up on the news. Spies and informants whispered reports back to the village.
---
Meanwhile, in Konoha
Inside Konoha's administrative office, Senju Tobirama sat at his desk, organizing stacks of documents. His expression was sharp, his movements efficient.
Finally, things were settling down.
Konoha, being far larger than Akatsuki Village and home to many powerful clans, had faced greater challenges during its reorganization. The relocation of ninja families had taken time. Progress was slower, but steady.
Not long ago, Tobirama had returned triumphant with ten billion taels in funding. With the village's coffers overflowing, he was eager to act. He envisioned Konoha not merely as strong, but as the most prosperous and advanced ninja village in the entire world.
For weeks, he had secluded himself, refusing most visitors, working tirelessly on a comprehensive strategic plan. Now, the preparations were complete. Today's council meeting would be the stage for his grand announcement.
---
The Council Meeting
The leaders of Konoha gathered in the great conference hall, seated in solemn rows. The air was thick with anticipation.
Tobirama stood at the head of the table, posture straight as a blade.
He began outlining his proposals with crisp precision.
"First," Tobirama declared, "I intend to establish a special unit dedicated to assassination tactics and covert operations."
Murmurs swept the room. Several clan heads exchanged uneasy glances. The idea sounded familiar. Very familiar.
Isn't this almost identical to the Anbu that Lord Guangying of Akatsuki Village proposed recently?
No one spoke it aloud, but the suspicion hung in the air. Could it be… plagiarism?
Still, the council members restrained themselves. Best to hear more before jumping to conclusions.
Tobirama pressed on. "Second, I propose the establishment of a ninja academy. This school will not only admit children of noble clans but also children from ordinary civilian families. The curriculum will include the fundamentals—clone technique, substitution, transformation, and the like."
This time, the silence in the room was louder. Several eyebrows shot up.
Again… isn't this almost exactly what Akatsuki Village announced just weeks ago?
Surely this was coincidence… wasn't it?
Unfazed, Tobirama continued. "Finally, I propose that Konoha adopt an ideology to unify our people—an ethos that will inspire loyalty and resilience. I call it… the Will of Fire."
The room fell completely silent.
This time, the resemblance was undeniable. Every head turned, eyes wide, and not a single cough disturbed the tension.
Again?
The councilors could no longer pretend. This was the third proposal in a row that mirrored Akatsuki Village's policies almost word-for-word.
Had Tobirama truly devised these plans himself, or was he simply copying what his rivals had already set in motion?
---
Madara Speaks
It was Uchiha Madara who broke the silence.
Leaning forward, eyes burning with disdain, he sneered. "All you do is plagiarize and spout nonsense."
His voice rang through the chamber like a thunderclap.
Heads turned immediately. Every elder and clan leader present froze.
Tobirama stiffened, his sharp gaze snapping toward Madara. "What did you say?!"
He had sharp ears, and Madara had spoken loudly enough that everyone heard. Even with his elder brother present, Tobirama was not one to back down when challenged—least of all by the Uchiha.
Hashirama, ever the peacemaker, hurried to intervene. "Madara, calm down. What my brother proposed was—"
But Madara cut him off coldly.
"I said he plagiarized!" Madara's voice was harsh and unrelenting. "Everything he's proposed today—every single so-called idea—was already announced by Uchiha Makoto of Akatsuki Village. It's barely been any time at all, and already he's rushing to copy them like some cheap imitator."
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "It's pathetic. Stupid. Disgusting."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Tobirama's hands clenched into fists at his side. Am I being accused of plagiarism? In front of the entire council?
The meeting room, filled with the weight of unspoken tension, seemed to teeter on the edge of eruption.
---
To Be Continued...
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