"It's Aoba. I heard you became the Hokage's assistant today. Instead of showing off your new position, why have you come to visit an old retired man like me?"
Sarutobi Hiruzen didn't mention the word "acting" at all. His face wore a warm, grandfatherly smile, like a kindly old man from next door.
Yet standing before this man, Kawaki Aoba didn't dare let his guard down for even a moment.
Strictly speaking, the political maneuvering between Minato Namikaze and the Elders was largely orchestrated by this very man.
It was a test—a calculated one—with Hiruzen's own subtle ambitions hidden within.
But that didn't matter now. Kawaki Aoba had come for only one reason: funding.
"Third Hokage, I've come to you today on a matter of great importance. But first, let me show you something."
Aoba opened his palm and presented an item to Hiruzen.
The elderly shinobi raised an eyebrow. "A magatama necklace? Is there something special about it?"
Indeed, Aoba held a necklace strung with three magatama beads. It looked simple, unimpressive, and bore no obvious signs of being a weapon or treasure.
"It may look ordinary, but this is no ordinary trinket. It's a defensive ninja tool—one I came across during the Third Great Ninja War. Please, try channeling your chakra into it."
Curious, Hiruzen took the necklace and infused it with chakra.
Instantly, the three magatama glowed with a faint golden light, and a transparent golden barrier shimmered to life around Hiruzen's body.
The transformation was swift—so quick that even Hiruzen, the "Professor," nearly missed it.
He reached out, pressing against the golden film, increasing pressure gradually. His curiosity turned into quiet astonishment.
"Aoba… how strong is this defense? Have you tested its limits?" Hiruzen asked, now serious.
Aoba nodded, smiling calmly. "I've tested it extensively. Standard Jonin-level attacks won't break through it unless sustained continuously. It's self-repairing as well—it draws chakra from the wearer to restore itself quickly if damaged."
Hiruzen gently traced his fingers across the glowing beads.
This was no ordinary ninja tool. In his vast knowledge of shinobi weaponry, he had seen many rare items—but never something like this. A reusable, chakra-powered barrier, effective even against Jonin-level attacks, was practically a second life for any ninja.
If its mechanism could be understood and replicated…
Hiruzen's mind began to race.
He was tempted—but cautious. How could he ask to keep it without appearing greedy?
Luckily for him, Aoba picked up on his hesitation. He subtly hinted that the necklace was no longer essential for someone of his strength. However, Aoba, now Hokage's assistant, was facing a challenge of his own.
Despite his position, he lacked the capital to initiate any meaningful reforms.
He finally spoke his mind—diplomatically. And Hiruzen understood at once.
This visit was to ask for money.
"Very well," Hiruzen said magnanimously. "The village can allocate ten million ryo to support your work."
But Aoba gave a sheepish grin. "Ah… Hokage-sama… I'm afraid that's not enough."
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. Ten million ryo wasn't enough? What exactly was this kid planning?
He gave Aoba a look. "How much do you need?"
Aoba raised a single finger.
Hiruzen: ???
Aoba: "One hundred million ryo."
The old man's face twitched.
Ten times?!
For a moment, Hiruzen was speechless. Ten million was already generous. One hundred million? What was this boy thinking?
"You're not trying to become the next Danzo, are you?" he muttered.
Still, he pressed further. "Aoba, what exactly do you plan to do with all that money?"
"Hehe… I want to build a new Ninja Academy," Aoba replied cheerfully, launching into a long list of critiques about the current system—outdated curriculum, lack of real-world training, and failure to nurture specialization.
But Hiruzen wasn't listening. He had one recurring thought:
This child must be insane.
A hundred million ryo… to build a school?
Still, Hiruzen looked down at the necklace in his hands.
If this tool could be reverse-engineered, its value would far surpass that amount.
He sighed. "Alright… one hundred million it is. But Aoba, just so you know—the village's budget for the year is already tight."
Even the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, wouldn't have been able to spend 100 million ryō from the village treasury in a single year—let alone a retired old man like him.
"So this 100 million will be considered personal funds," Hiruzen Sarutobi declared with finality. "I'm buying it with my own money."
Using personal funds meant that any research results from the purchase would have no affiliation with Konohagakure. They would belong solely to the buyer.
Of course, Kawaki Aoba understood this principle—but he didn't care. If the creations of Divine Machine Refinement could be analyzed through the ninja world's methods, it would be a miracle worth chasing.
In the end, Kawaki Aoba left the office with a savings passbook in hand—containing a balance of 100 million ryō.
As he departed, he vaguely heard Hiruzen muttering to himself:
"What a truly fascinating defensive ninja tool… a pity it only works with chakra. If only civilians could use it too. The Daimyō would certainly be interested. If we could ease his dissatisfaction, the village's annual funding might even increase."
Kawaki Aoba, who had already walked far down the hall, paused. !!
The Daimyō. The nobles. Of course—how could he have overlooked that?
If you were to ask which group in the ninja world possessed the most wealth, it would undoubtedly be those overfed aristocrats who lounged around doing nothing all day.
They were the ones most in need of defensive tools. No—correction—they were the ones who most feared the ninja and still dared to look down on them.
Even with the occasional assassination attempt against nobles, nothing ever really changed.
If he truly wanted to sell defensive tools at a high price, he needed to manufacture a crisis—a reason for these elites to feel vulnerable.
100 million ryō was already an astronomical figure. But in Kawaki Aoba's eyes, it was still a drop in the bucket. Before any of his industries became profitable, that money would last—at most—a month or two.
Still, a month or two was a decent runway. During that time, Kawaki Aoba was confident he could secure more funding.
So no, he wasn't desperate—not yet.
He even had time to think about which problem to solve first.
After all, he was taking massive steps. And if he wanted to become successful in one fell swoop, he, as the central pillar, had to resolve all major concerns.
Walking through the streets, he spotted a few children playing ninja tag. A spark lit in his mind: the enrollment issue must be addressed first.
Of course, real enrollment would require a media push—perhaps an article in the Konoha Weekly. But even that might not yield immediate results. Compared to a brand-new, unknown ninja academy...
The average citizen of Konoha would naturally place more trust in the official Ninja Academy, which had been operating for decades under the Hokage's watch.
That much was certain.
So if he didn't come up with creative ways to draw in students, it was entirely possible his first class wouldn't even break into the double digits.
"…Am I really destined to walk the path of the man I hate most?" Kawaki Aoba murmured to himself. The image of an old man with his head wrapped in bandages came to mind.
When had his actions begun to resemble Danzo Shimura's?
No. Something was wrong. He shook his head violently. He refused to believe he had anything in common with that man.
Danzo had always acted for his own twisted ambitions. Kawaki Aoba, on the other hand, was doing all this for the future of Konoha.
Reaffirming his convictions, Kawaki Aoba soon arrived at his destination—the Konoha Orphanage, located near the village's outskirts.
Where else could you find so many children with no clan affiliations—an ideal place to cultivate the next generation of loyal ninja?
An attendant greeted him politely at the entrance. "Respected shinobi-sama, may I ask who you're here to see?"
"I'm Kawaki Aoba, assistant to the Hokage," he replied, showing his ID. "I'd like to speak with your director."
The title "Hokage Assistant" clearly carried weight. The attendant stiffened and hurried to fetch the director.
Soon, a gentle-looking woman with round spectacles approached. Her demeanor radiated kindness, almost entirely unlike a typical shinobi.
Yakushi Nono, a former Root operative, master of medical ninjutsu, and once considered Danzo's top spy—the infamous "Walking Shrine Maiden."
As Kawaki Aoba observed her, he sighed inwardly. Another wasted talent. She should have been a beacon for Konoha, not a pawn sacrificed by Danzo's schemes.
"Respected sir," she said softly. "To what do I owe your visit?"
Aoba returned a warm smile. "Miss Yakushi Nono, I'll get straight to the point. You wouldn't want your children to be brainwashed by Danzo and turned into emotionless Root operatives, would you?"
Nono's pupils trembled ever so slightly.
Kawaki Aoba, using his observation skills—almost akin to Observation Haki—caught the minute reaction. Danzo had clearly already come to her… and made threats.
Perfect. Intercepting others' plots was one of Aoba's specialties. Thank you, old man Danzo, for the assist.
After a short silence, Nono asked calmly, "Respected sir, what is your true purpose in coming here?"
She didn't deny his accusation—that was a silent admission in itself.
Clearly, this "Walking Shrine Maiden" wasn't some naive idealist.
So Aoba decided to go all in.
"There are two reasons I'm here," he said plainly. "First, I want you. A woman of your abilities is wasted running an orphanage. Konoha needs your talents elsewhere."
Nono didn't react. She had already anticipated this. After all, she was the true asset here.
But she remained focused. "And your second reason?"
"It concerns the children," Aoba said. "I want to recruit a select few orphans with high potential and train them to become true shinobi."
"…Impossible," she said immediately. Her tone remained soft, but firm. "Their safety comes before anything else."
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