Not Paying Taxes Means Not Loving the Village

He did not know how long he had been slumbering in the darkness.

Obito opened his eyes to find himself lying on a stone slab. Furthermore, his body was covered by a cloak, and it felt as if something strange had been stuffed inside.

He sat up, only to see Uchiha Madara waiting for him nearby.

At Madara's feet lay a scythe; it might even have had the dried blood of Hashirama on it, a trophy from the Valley of the End.

Obito was scared out of his wits, thinking the Grim Reaper had finally come to collect his soul.

Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, Obito realized the man before him was none other than the ancestor of their Uchiha clan, Madara.

"So, old man, do you want some protein powder?"

Obito suddenly realized his personal bag had fallen down with him. Seeing how Madara was as thin as a skeleton, his kind heart decided to help the old man supplement his nutrition.

"Protein powder?" Madara seemed to have heard the name before.

Because matters of food were trivial, the White Zetsu never reported them, but that Swirl-faced White Zetsu—who enjoyed observing excrement—had once been curious about what the stool of someone who drank protein powder looked like. Perhaps he had heard the name then.

"Drinking two scoops of this is equivalent to a pound of beef?"

"That's right! This is Zhengyi's—" Obito was just about to brag about how their Konoha was a land of outstanding people, having produced someone like Orochimaru.

He suddenly realized something.

Had he handed Rin over to Zhengyi?!!

?!!

But at the time, he had thought he was going to die.

"Ahhh! Old man, I can't talk to you anymore! Consider the protein powder a token of gratitude for saving my life, but tell me how to get back!" Obito hopped and jumped around. If he went back a few days late, would he only be able to attend Rin's wedding feast?

Rin had always had a bit of a soft spot for that scoundrel Zhengyi!

And! He had even given his Three-Tomoe Sharingan to Zhengyi!!

He had suffered a massive loss!

"No, your body still needs to rest." Madara shook his head and went to have the White Zetsu mix the protein powder for him.

A rare item where two scoops equaled a pound of beef—he had never eaten such a thing in his youth. If he had eaten this every day back then, wouldn't he have crippled Hashirama long ago?

After all, supplies were scarce during the Warring States period; sometimes, when famine struck, he even had to save his own rations so Izuna could grow.

"Oh! Old man, just let me go back! I, Obito, will definitely come back to repay your great kindness."

"No."

"Um, Lord Madara, can I have a taste of that protein powder?" the Swirl-faced White Zetsu asked coyly.

"Sure." Obito nodded. All within the four seas are brothers; we are all brothers, after all.

"But I don't have a mouth," the Swirl-faced White Zetsu said cheekily.

"You idiot." Obito.

It smelled milky. After Madara finished the protein powder, he did indeed feel a warmth in his lower abdomen. Hm? This stuff actually works.

Wait?

"There is... poison in this." The aged Madara was poisoned and collapsed just like that.

He felt nothing but hatred; he hadn't even gotten the chance to deceive Obito yet, and Obito had deceived him first.

This bucket of protein powder was, after all, prepared for Minato to drink; the "dosage" of poison was not light, and since it had been dissolved in water, the body absorbed it even faster.

Obito, having been poisoned once before, had developed a certain resistance this time and collapsed after Madara. The poor kid, until his dying breath, believed there was something wrong with his own body rather than the protein powder. Before the drowsiness took him, he drank all the remaining water.

"Lord Madara!"

"Obito!!"

A major event had recently occurred in Kirigakure.

For Konoha, it was a joyous occasion.

The genin Might Duy and his son Might Guy had used the Eight Inner Gates—one opening the seventh gate, the other the fifth.

Together, the father and son had left only three of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen alive.

Facing the exclamations of his Konoha colleagues on the front lines of Kirigakure, Might Duy desperately wanted to say that he owed it all to Zhengyi!

It was Zhengyi who had met him on the front lines of Kumogakure, given him food, given him water, and taught him how to train correctly.

He was planning to apply for a discharge once the Third Shinobi World War ended; he wouldn't be a ninja anymore. He wanted to become a full-time fitness coach at Zhengyi's Gym. There was a group of like-minded partners there! He had already sold over a dozen of his spandex suits.

Duy loved to praise people, so whenever anyone asked him, he would boast that the next generation of Konoha he held in the highest regard was his son and Zhengyi.

Finally!

Zhengyi had finally made a name for himself among the Konoha ninja.

Two people were chatting idly.

The two were full of regret; after Ōnoki saw Kumogakure massing troops on the border of Konoha, he was unwilling to stop the war, intending to loot the burning house.

The vanguard force Jiraiya sent to the front lines at Kumogakure was decimated by the Fourth Raikage before they could even retreat, leaving only two or three survivors.

"Who is this Zhengyi?" Fugaku had heard the name, but he wanted to know what the situation was.

"Perhaps..." Minato sighed, not knowing where to begin. "I don't even know if Zhengyi's existence is a blessing or a curse for Konoha."

He possessed a keen eye for judging character, after all.

He could see that unlike the nobility, Zhengyi opposed feudalism and championed freedom, prosperity, equality, and human rights...

Yet, Minato could also see that at his core, Zhengyi was no different from the nobles; he was still full of exploitative tendencies.

"For us Uchiha, it's just..." Fugaku began, then laughed helplessly. The village had recently planned to impose a tax on the wealthy, spearheaded by an organization led by Orochimaru.

They even introduced something called an inheritance tax.

It meant that when a father died, a certain portion of his estate had to be turned over to the village based on the total value of his assets.

Most of the Uchiha were wealthy individuals who had inherited ancestral fortunes, so the wealth tax would take a cut from them.

Now, after so many of their brothers had died for Konoha in Kirigakure, the inheritance tax was going to take another cut! Were they trying to force them into rebellion?!

Zhengyi was moving on all fronts, seizing military power in Kumogakure while having Orochimaru squeeze military funding out of the ninja clans.

With the able-bodied men of every clan out fighting, the widows and orphans were left to be bullied by Orochimaru. If the men at the front felt disheartened, so be it; they didn't support him anyway. If worse came to worst, he could just bring Minato back.

In truth, Zhengyi and Orochimaru were already secretly researching the feasibility of establishing a new ninja village behind Danzo's back.

They would call it New Konoha!

It would signify the arrival of a new era.

However, if they could become Hokage, they would rather not start a venture from scratch; entrepreneurship was too bitter and the pressure was immense.

"Is there really no one in the village who can keep him in check?" Fugaku asked.

"Zhengyi has tied this matter to patriotism. If you don't pay taxes or contribute military funds to the village, you don't love the village. Who would dare wear such a heavy label?" Minato shook his head with a wry smile.

Minato felt the biggest reason was that the village's foundation remained what the First Hokage had left behind: the villagers were the roots of the village, and Zhengyi had not specifically targeted the villagers.

"Then he is quite ruthless."