With the idea of borrowing a large sum of money from Orochimaru in mind, Makoto's footsteps crunched softly on the accumulated snow.
As a player, if you can't steal or rob, you can still borrow! The most important thing for a player is to be flexible. Otherwise, how can you quickly become stronger? If you don't become stronger, how can you spend money like crazy?
As the old saying goes, if a player doesn't use their brain, they'll be a background character forever.
Once Orochimaru defects, the debt will naturally become void. It's not like he'd specifically come back to collect it after leaving Konoha, right? Impossible, absolutely impossible!
So this money, if you don't borrow it, it's a waste. Once you borrow it, you'll want to borrow more.
After exiting the flower shop, Makoto walked to an open area at the street corner, squinting as he scanned his surroundings.
The wind and snow shook the lanterns, their orange light casting swaying spots on the snow. Two familiar auras were hidden within the tree shadows, like charcoal buried in snow… inconspicuous but warm.
It was Itachi and Shisui.
He had sensed their tailing long ago. Probably either Fugaku's arrangement or Itachi's own initiative to protect him.
Makoto waved towards the shadows. The heat from his palm met the cold, condensing into a small puff of white mist.
Borrowing money from Orochimaru... simple in concept, but a bit life-threatening... not much different from dancing on the edge of a blade. The slightest misstep and it's game over.
As one of the Legendary Sannin, and the smartest one at that, a simple Genjutsu from him could make you spill everything… when you started having wet dreams, who you dreamed about, everything.
Although he had [Resurrection Coins] as a safety net, and could revive if killed, he was afraid of social death. If the little secrets in his heart got out, he'd have no choice but to destroy the Shinobi World and live alone on the moon.
So bringing two bodyguards was especially important. Not using available resources around you? That's just stupid.
Itachi, who had just rushed over from the small grove, was still panting, clearly having hurried all the way. Shisui glanced at him.
"Your brother is actively waving at us. Still want to hide?"
Shisui patted Itachi's shoulder, his tone carrying a hint of teasing. His knuckles tapped lightly on Itachi's shoulder armor with a soft thump.
"Maybe he has something good for us."
Hearing this, Itachi pursed his lips and didn't respond, just kept his gaze fixed on Makoto.
His black eyes held no extra emotion, but held unconcealable concern, like tender sprouts quietly peeking through the snow.
Without much hesitation, he flickered to appear before Makoto, with Shisui close behind.
Snow landed on their hair, melting almost instantly. Itachi's eyelashes were coated with fine droplets.
Makoto looked at them, suddenly leaned half a step forward, covered his mouth with his hand, deliberately lowered his voice, his black eyes sparkling with liveliness.
"Over the past months, I've been thinking day and night, and I finally figured out a way to resolve the conflict between the clan and the village, to coexist peacefully."
Of course, Makoto couldn't outright say he wanted to 'extort' Orochimaru, so he chose to bamboozle the two.
The wind and snow, carrying snowflakes, swept between the three, tearing his whisper to pieces, yet each word clearly reached Itachi and Shisui's ears.
"Resolve the conflict?"
"Coexist peacefully?"
Shisui and Itachi looked up almost simultaneously, sparks instantly igniting in their eyes.
Especially Shisui. His previously somewhat teasing expression was now completely replaced by seriousness, even his fingertips subconsciously tensing, after all, this was something he pondered day and night.
Shisui, seeing Makoto was only just over three years old, still felt a bit skeptical.
But seeing the utterly serious expression on Itachi's face, he swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue, just shuffled half a step to the side, blocking the oncoming wind and snow, signaling Makoto to continue.
Itachi was even more direct. He reached out and pulled Makoto towards a nearby alley.
Deep in the alley, some old wooden boxes were piled up. Less snow fell here, making it slightly warmer than outside.
As he turned, water droplets flew from his hair, hitting the snow and creating several small pits. Lacking his usual calm, he asked urgently:
"Makoto, what's the method?"
He had watched Makoto grow up. He knew Makoto was far smarter than children his age. Those seemingly whimsical words often hid surprisingly logical insights.
Makoto cleared his throat, put his small hands behind his back. The prim and proper posture was exactly like a miniature Hokage, so serious even his eyebrows seemed to radiate an air of unquestionable authority.
"You two tell me first, when was the last time the clan and the village coexisted peacefully? Speak freely. Nothing is off limits."
As soon as his words fell, Itachi, without any hesitation, his black eyes gleaming in the dim alley like snow-soaked obsidian, stated with certainty: "Before the Kyubi Rampage."
"And do you know why?" Makoto pressed, his pupils gleaming in the shadows, as if holding a bellyful of words waiting to be spoken.
Shisui chimed in, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing his chin, despite having no beard, it was as if he were stroking a non-existent one, saying seriously:
"It should be because of the Kyubi Rampage. Many Shinobi saw the Sharingan in the Kyubi's eyes."
"So it's normal for them to be wary of us. I think it's quite reasonable."
"Wrong! And completely wrong!" Makoto suddenly raised his voice, like a stone thrown into a frozen lake, shaking the accumulated snow loose from the eaves.
He stepped forward onto a wooden box. The snow crunched crunchily under his feet, the box board emitting a soft crack, as if also backing his words.
"The root of the current major conflict between the village and the clan isn't the Kyubi Rampage at all!"
"It's the Hokage!"
Itachi's brows sharply furrowed, like two willow leaves blown together by a cold wind. A flash of confusion passed through his black eyes: "But Sandaime-sama treats the clansmen, even me..."
"That's just surface-level!" Makoto directly interrupted, his tone resolute and decisive, even his gestures intensifying, his fingertip almost poking Itachi's nose.
"Do you think the Sandaime Hokage is truly unaware of that inherently evil old geezer Danzo's underhanded tactics against our clan?"
"He's just playing dumb! Even tacitly approving! Do you really think he's senile?"
Hearing this, Shisui's hand, which was stroking his chin, paused. A flash of realization passed through his eyes, these words were like a fine needle, gently piercing the blurry membrane in his heart.
But his upbringing made him shake his head vigorously, his eyes instantly becoming firm: "No matter what, we cannot doubt Hokage-sama!"
Makoto, seeing that they didn't directly refute or even interrupt, allowed the corner of his mouth to hook up almost imperceptibly, then instantly straightened it again.