Senju Makoto looked around his dilapidated courtyard, his gaze sweeping across the drafty roof and the crumbling walls...
He had no choice but to succeed! Suddenly, a spark of inspiration flashed in his mind—a cost-free, rapid way to make money appeared instantly... writing a book!
Specifically, a masterpiece with... thrilling plots and abundant emotions!
This wasn't some random idea; its success had already been proven in the future. One of the Three Legendary Sannin, Jiraiya, would make a fortune across the entire Ninja World with his Make-Out Paradise series, earning enough to support his massive expenses at entertainment houses throughout the lands while still saving a huge sum.
And look at the famous "Copy Ninja of Konoha," Hatake Kakashi—never seen without a book in hand, a loyal fan of the series. This alone proved the market's potential.
No time like the present!
Senju Makoto quickly turned back into the house and sat at his creaky wooden desk. He pulled out his only remaining sheets of paper and a half-stub of an ink stick. Dipping the brush in ink, he hovered it over the paper, pondering for a moment. It was time to let a "classic" from his past life find new life in this world.
To open the market quickly, there had to be conflict, love, hate, and... well, some unique "selling points."
Soon, the beginning of a story about a "Ninja Academy Graduate and the Landlady" surfaced in his memory. The plot was full of twists and turns... and not a single "highlight" was missing.
Because the content was a bit scandalous, Senju Makoto thought for a moment and named the protagonist A-Zang.
Even before meeting Shimura Danzo, he was already making him the fall guy. He thought to himself:
"Sorry, Danzo, even though we haven't met. Just consider this an early investment in me. As compensation, if there's ever a chance for the position of the First Scapegoat-Kage of the Ninja World, I'll consider passing it to someone else for you... for example, Sarutobi Hiruzen. He looks like a good fit."
Senju Makoto dipped his pen in ink, his thoughts flowing like a spring. Borrowing from masterpieces of his past life and adding his own unique ideas, he wrote with total concentration. His face even flushed slightly with focus over certain details.
In a nearby tree canopy, Senju Tobirama's brow furrowed tighter and tighter. Possessing extraordinary sensory perception, he could roughly "see" the outlines of the words being rapidly traced on the paper even from a distance.
At first, he thought Senju Makoto was recording cultivation insights or writing down some important secret.
But as he kept "reading"... his breath suddenly hitched.
The content between the lines was... a bit off, wasn't it!?
"The landlady's fingers softly brushed over the firm muscle lines on A-Zang's back, her voice turning sticky and sweet: 'A-Zang, you wouldn't want to be homeless and continue wandering the streets, would you?'"
"A faint fragrance wafted over, and A-Zang's heartbeat instantly lost its rhythm."
"The candlelight cast trembling shadows over her lowered eyes, shadows that seemed to fall right onto A-Zang's throbbing heart..."
Senju Tobirama: "???"
He froze on the tree branch, a series of question marks rolling through his mind.
That face, usually known for being cold, rigid, and unshakeable, was now turning red at a visible rate—starting from his ears, crawling up his jawline, until even his stern cheeks were dyed a shallow red. The contrast was absurd.
"What kind of nonsense is he writing!?"
"As the only disciple of my brother, instead of thinking about cultivation or researching ninjutsu, he stays home in broad daylight to write this... this unspeakable trash!?"
"Where is the decorum! This is an insult to literature!!"
Tobirama roared in his mind, his first reaction being fury. But in the next second, the vigilance honed from the warring states era took over.
"Wait... could this be some kind of disguise? Is he deliberately using this absurd method to numb anyone who might be monitoring him? The Uchiha bloodline is naturally evil; is he using this unexpected method to hide his true intentions?"
The more Tobirama thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.
With that in mind, he suppressed his presence as much as possible. His figure blurred like smoke as he used a Body Flicker Technique, landing silently on the roof of Makoto's broken house. He landed so lightly that not a single tile rattled.
He leaned toward a small hole in the roof for close-range "monitoring"—"This is a necessary investigation for the safety of Konoha," he told himself.
However, as the plot advanced rapidly, the interaction between "A-Zang" and the "Landlady" became increasingly... deep. The descriptions grew more specific, the imagery more vivid...
Tobirama's powerful brain involuntarily filled in the scenes based on the text. He tried to use cold analysis to dispel those images, but it was useless. He even found himself silently nitpicking:
"The psychological description here is too redundant... the transition of movements isn't natural enough... Hmm, the environmental rendering is acceptable, but the motivation wasn't established well enough... If I were to write this, I could definitely do better!"
He, Senju Tobirama, was never inferior to anyone in his life!
As he analyzed and criticized... he suddenly felt a heat at the tip of his nose.
"Pfft—"
Two streams of warm liquid gushed out without warning. Tobirama snapped back to reality, his mind going blank. He instinctively reached up to feel it; his fingertips met a moist, warm sensation. Looking down, it was a striking bright red.
He... he, Senju Tobirama, the world-renowned incarnation of cold logic, actually got a nosebleed from reading this stuff!?
"As expected of the naturally evil Uchiha bloodline! Even the things he writes are so... so soul-disturbing!"
Inside the small house, Senju Makoto was reaching the climax of the plot, his inspiration flowing like a burst dam... writing as if possessed.
Suddenly, he felt the light above him dim for a fraction of a second. Immediately after, a few drops of warm liquid fell—plip, plop—landing perfectly on the words "the curtains hung low" that he had just written.
The dark red liquid quickly seeped into the rough paper. Makoto's movements stopped, and he looked up instantly.
Through the hole in the roof, a figure was rapidly pulling back. In that fleeting glimpse, Makoto only managed to catch a flash of signature white hair before the figure vanished completely, so fast it felt like an illusion.
"Who's there!?"
Makoto shouted, his figure vanishing from the desk. He dashed out of the room and leaped onto the drafty eaves, looking around vigilantly.
The old eaves creaked under his weight, looking as if they might collapse at any moment. But in the woods, there was only the sound of branches swaying in the wind. Not a soul was in sight.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Konoha near the edge of the Forest of Death, the air rippled slightly. Senju Tobirama's figure appeared abruptly; he had even used the Flying Thunder God Technique.
Leaning against a cold rock, he panted heavily, his heart still thumping wildly. That moment just now... was too close.
Just a hair's breadth away! If that kid had caught him red-handed, his lifelong reputation and authority would have been completely destroyed!
He haphazardly wiped away the nosebleed. After calming down, his suspicion and wariness toward Senju Makoto actually dropped significantly in a strange way.
"That kid..." Tobirama thought, frowning. "He doesn't seem to have the usual gloom and paranoia of the Uchiha Clan. Instead, he seems... obsessed with feminine charms. He's a bit like that little monkey from the Sarutobi Clan. I suppose that might not be a bad thing...?"