The confident smile on Uchiha Madara's face grew even brighter.
At this moment, he felt that Uchiha Makoto's so-called loyal advice was nothing more than alarmist nonsense.
Private counsel could be considered sincere admonition—but Makoto's public opposition was, in effect, a challenge to Madara's personal authority. Yet Madara didn't care in the slightest.
This was both confidence in Senju Hashirama, and confidence in his own strength.
He was the proudest of all Uchiha. In the entire shinobi world, the only person he acknowledged as an equal was Hashirama. As long as Hashirama supported him, and the two of them combined their strength to establish a shinobi village, they would surely realize the dream they had sworn together as children.
But—
The subtlety of fate was truly beyond words.
People always hold unrealistic fantasies about their "white moonlight."
After Konohagakure was established, Senju Hashirama changed.
Madara was still the same Madara—but Hashirama had become the First Hokage.
Hashirama firmly believed that protecting the village meant protecting people—protecting shinobi, and protecting children.
Thus, in the eyes of the First Hokage, whether it was father and son, or brothers—
so long as they threatened the future of the village, they had to be eliminated.
Just as Hashirama himself once said:
"Whether it's my friends, my brothers, or even my own children—
if they dare to oppose the village, I will never forgive them!"
"Since Madara-sama has already made his decision, then this is as far as my words go."
"I will respect your wishes and stop seeking revenge against the Senju. But I will not join them in founding a shinobi village."
"I choose to leave the Uchiha clan."
Makoto was already tired of arguing with Madara about the Senju.
You can't teach people with words—
only events teach lessons, and they only need to happen once.
When Madara was eventually stabbed in the back, and when not a single clansman was willing to follow him, he would finally understand how prophetic today's words had been.
"So that's your decision… I understand."
Madara nodded.
He didn't say much about Makoto's choice.
The hatred accumulated between the Uchiha and the Senju over a thousand years was immeasurable.
And it wasn't just these two clans—other shinobi families were the same. During the Warring Clans Era, an unspoken rule had already formed: never reveal your surname when traveling.
Otherwise, you might run into a ninja from an enemy clan.
And the fate of such an unlucky soul went without saying.
Training a shinobi was costly. As the saying went: "Rather than strengthening yourself, it's better to weaken your enemy." Enemy clans were more than happy to seize such opportunities and strike hard.
"If you truly intend to leave the Uchiha," Madara said calmly, "I can give you some funds to help you on your way."
Seeing Makoto's resolve, Madara did not try to stop him. He even offered him travel money.
After all, wandering the shinobi world alone was extremely dangerous. Without money, one could easily end up helpless—
a true case of one coin defeating a hero.
But in this regard—
Madara had slightly underestimated Makoto.
No—more accurately, he had overestimated Makoto's moral bottom line.
The Uchiha were a prestigious clan that had endured for a thousand years. Their family name resounded throughout the shinobi world. Naturally, they followed the rules.
Whether purchasing kunai, shuriken, training medicines, or daily supplies, they paid in full. Strong-arming merchants or freeloading by force was beneath them.
The proud Uchiha valued their reputation.
But Uchiha Makoto was different.
He was about to strike out on his own—to start a venture from scratch and build a shinobi village like Orochimaru would one day attempt.
The Uchiha clan had long since passed the stage of primitive capital accumulation.
Makoto, however, was about to enter that very phase—
a painful, grimy, and bloody one.
What major organization ever rose without touching gray—or even black—areas?
Some particularly bold enterprises had even dared to issue currency-pegged tokens at a one-to-one exchange rate. Though they were later crushed by an iron fist, that didn't stop them from becoming giants of their industry.
As long as you could launder yourself clean later, it was fine.
Makoto didn't mind using force to do a little dirty work.
Of course—
Blindly doing bounty missions like Kakuzu, grinding money like a fool, was out of the question.
Thugs who don't use their brains will only ever be lackeys.
If you want to make real money, you need to do business, just like a certain "Jimmy" type.
Collusion between officials and merchants.
Buying low, selling high.
All standard operations.
In Makoto's grand blueprint:
First, earn the initial capital.
Then, establish a company and enter a chosen industry.
Next, use force to establish monopoly control, extracting massive monopoly profits.
After that, open a bank, absorb civilian deposits.
Then, have the company borrow money from the bank to expand production, earning even greater profits—
which would then flow back into the bank.
A perfect loop.
Left foot stepping on right foot—
spiraling straight into the heavens.
Of course, this kind of gameplay carried risks.
For any company, expanding production was always a gamble—and plenty of bosses lost everything.
But Makoto had contingency plans.
If something went wrong mid-process and the capital chain broke, he would immediately liquidate.
Either dump all the bad assets onto some unlucky sucker, or directly declare bankruptcy—ditch the debts, grab the cash, and run.
Sure, it was a bit inhuman.
But it made money.
In this deceitful shinobi world, a ninja could live their whole life haunted by guilt—
but they absolutely could not live poor forever.
Otherwise, what was the point of being a ninja?
Those shinobi clans were truly hopelessly rigid. A thousand years had passed, and they were still making money solely by doing missions.
Even progressive figures like Senju Hashirama—
Even after founding the strongest village in the shinobi world, Konohagakure, all he did was rationally divide mission ranks and assign tasks based on strength.
He never changed the fundamental survival logic of shinobi:
Accept missions to live—
and one day, inevitably, die somewhere in the shinobi world.
Makoto had a far greater ideal.
If he was going to build a village, it would be the largest.
If he was going to make money, it would be the most, and the easiest money.
Madara was willing to give him a sum of money to leave the Uchiha, and Makoto was pleased—
But just money?
That wasn't enough.
Whether in the twenty-first century or the shinobi world, what was the most valuable resource?
There was no doubt about it.
Talent.