Konoha's Performance Review

Yūhi Shinku.

Hearing that name, Chiba Ran immediately thought of another person.

Yūhi Kurenai.

Konoha's future Master of Genjutsu, Asuma's wife, a woman who combined mature charm with an unyielding will.

Interesting.

Sent a letter, then sent a man, tsk tsk...

"Let him in."

Chiba Ran's voice was calm.

A moment later, footsteps sounded, and a man walked in.

The newcomer wore Konoha's standard-issue flak jacket, his posture straight, but the stench of blood on him was impossible to conceal.

He must have just come off the battlefield.

"Konoha jōnin, Yūhi Shinku, pays respects to the Daimyo-sama."

The man bowed, his etiquette complete, yet his bearing carried the pride of an elite shinobi.

It was the confidence forged from fighting through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

"No need for formalities."

Chiba Ran's gaze fell upon him.

Decent strength, ample Chakra reserves, and a fairly refined mental energy.

A qualified shinobi.

A pity, before This Seat, he was no different from an ant.

"The report? Hand it over."

"Yes, sir."

Yūhi Shinku stepped forward, presenting a heavy scroll with both hands.

"This report records Konoha's battle losses, material consumption, and battle assessment from the recent war. Please, Daimyo-sama, have a look."

The attendant Minamoto stepped forward to receive it, placing it respectfully on Chiba Ran's desk.

Chiba Ran did not open it. His fingers tapped lightly on the scroll.

"You've worked hard."

"To survive such a brutal battlefield, you are a hero of Konoha."

"And a meritorious subject of the Land of Fire."

His tone was gentle, like a spring breeze.

Yūhi Shinku quickly lowered his head in reply. "To serve the Land of Fire with loyalty is the duty of a Konoha shinobi."

"Well said."

Chiba Ran praised, then unrolled the report.

The Battle of Mount Kibaki.

The Battle of Kannabi Bridge.

One campaign name after another, line after line of cold casualty numbers.

Each number represented a living soul, a shattered family.

Hashirama Senju, your naivety killed them.

"Staggering."

Chiba Ran closed the scroll with a sigh.

"Konoha's shinobi have paid a heavy price for the Land of Fire."

Seeing this, Yūhi Shinku seized the opening. "You see clearly, my lord. It is precisely for this reason that the Third Hokage humbly requests aid from the Daimyo Manor."

He paused, his tone growing more earnest.

"The village has lost too many shinobi. Their families need pensions, the wounded need treatment, and the homes destroyed by war need rebuilding. All of this requires funds. I beg the Daimyo-sama to understand the village's difficulties."

Here it comes.

Chiba Ran sneered inwardly.

"Jōnin Shinku, I understand your purpose here, and I have read the Third's letter."

He shifted the topic, pushing the battle report back.

"But you seem to have misunderstood one thing."

"This report is not a merit roll for Konoha to come begging for rewards from me."

"It is a performance report of your duty to the Land of Fire."

Yūhi Shinku's pupils abruptly contracted.

Chiba Ran's voice was not loud, yet it pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.

"Could it be that the funds Daimyo Manor pays to Konoha aren't enough? Or have you been using them to enjoy yourselves during peacetime? And now you want to increase the budget?"

"You need to understand—that money buys your sacrifices in war, buys every casualty number on this report."

"You gave your lives, but the Land of Fire didn't shortchange you."

Chiba Ran stood up, paced over to him, and looked down at him from above.

"My brothers fought for the throne and emptied the national treasury—that's my family affair."

"I quelled the civil strife and drained the finances—that's my state affair."

"And now you, holding a work report that should have been submitted to me by Konoha, come to me, to this scarred and battered nation, demanding extra compensation?"

"Jōnin Shinku, tell me—on what grounds?"

"Or do you believe that a shinobi's life is nobler than the tens of thousands of civilians displaced by war, starving and without food?"

Every word struck home.

Yūhi Shinku opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

All his defenses, before this interrogation, seemed absurd and laughable.

The achievements he prided himself on were casually defined as mere duty.

Konoha's sacrifices were defined as a transaction.

This lord had never placed Konoha on equal footing.

Were shinobi merely tools?

Yūhi Shinku felt a bone-deep chill.

"I... understand."

After a long pause, he bowed again.

"I will convey your will to the Hokage."

"Mm."

Chiba Ran nodded, neither approving nor objecting. He didn't care what Konoha's attitude was.

Anger or endurance—either way!

If they dared to stroke the tiger's whiskers, he would slap them dead with one palm.

After Chiba Ran sat back down, his face instantly shifted to an expression of compassion, as if the earlier dressing-down had never happened.

"The departed are gone. What we can do is protect the future."

"This great war cost Konoha too many pillars. It pains me deeply."

His tone softened.

"Especially genjutsu users—a power that can achieve much with little. Losing even one is a great loss to the Land of Fire."

"Does Konoha's next generation have any promising seedlings who can inherit your legacy?"

This sudden concern caught Yūhi Shinku off guard.

He froze for a moment before instinctively replying, "In answer, my lord, among the new generation, there are indeed children with talent."

"Oh?"

Chiba Ran showed a flicker of interest. "For example, those with talent in genjutsu—I have high hopes for them."

At this mention, some color returned to Yūhi Shinku's face.

He spoke with pride, "My daughter, Kurenai, has some talent in genjutsu. The village has already listed her as a key training target."

"Yūhi Kurenai..."

Chiba Ran repeated the name softly and smiled. "A good name. How old is she this year? Has she been to the battlefield?"

Yūhi Shinku replied, "My daughter is sixteen this year. She has already been to the battlefield."

Chiba Ran's expression turned sorrowful. "A girl in the bloom of youth, already on the battlefield... Ah..."

"Tell the Third—heroes bleed on the front lines. The Land of Fire will never let the families of heroes shed tears behind the lines."

"For shinobi of distinguished merit like Jōnin Shinku, the training of their descendants should naturally be given priority."

Yūhi Shinku's head snapped up, disbelief in his eyes.

What had he just heard?

Humiliation, suppression, and then... a reward?

"I will allocate a Genius Training Special Fund from next quarter's budget for Konoha."

"I hope your daughter, and other children with talent, can receive more thorough training."

"Thank you, my lord." Yūhi Shinku's attitude was sincere.

"Alright, you've traveled a long way. You must be tired."

Chiba Ran waved a hand. "I accept your report. You may go."

Then he added another sentence.

"It's rare for you to visit the capital. Don't rush off. Take a good look around here, see the capital after the war—it counts as understanding the people's condition."

"Yes!"

Yūhi Shinku bowed again, turned, and withdrew from the study.

It wasn't until he stepped out of the Daimyo Manor and was hit by the evening breeze that he felt the cold sweat all over his body.

This meeting with the young daimyo made him feel more exhausted than facing an enemy on the battlefield.

That invisible pressure left him breathless.

So this is what a daimyo is like?

Inside the study.

Chiba Ran toyed with the brush in his hand, a smile hanging on his face.

Yūhi Kurenai.

A key training target, was it?

Excellent.

An uncarved piece of jade—that's what held value for cultivation and conquest.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, did you think sending an Elite Jonin would be enough to test me?

You'll soon learn that I'll not only cut your funding, but also poach your people.

Pushing these thoughts aside, Chiba Ran buried himself in government affairs again.

Establishing a new order required absolute patience.

Time passed, and the moon climbed to its zenith.

Minamoto walked in quietly, replacing the candles in the study with gentle movements.

"My lord, it's late."

"Mm."

Chiba Ran didn't look up.

Only after finishing the last document did he let out a long breath.

The sustained high-intensity work had inevitably left him somewhat weary.

A face—stubborn and pale from yesterday—floated into his mind.

He wondered if, after a day of instruction, that hard bone had been cracked yet.

Chiba Ran stood up, a hint of anticipation on his face, and walked slowly toward the direction of the bedchamber.