Resigned to Fate

The reactions in the stands were far more complicated.

Hiruzen Sarutobi slowly, forcefully began to applaud, his expression conflicted. He understood that "third path," and his heart trembled. "Compensation and resettlement... no one can object to that.

But these 'living regulations'... Kumoi, you really intend to completely change the rules of the game. No wonder Sensei chose you as Hokage."

Shimura Danzō's hands remained tucked within his sleeves, his fingertips unmoving. Expressionless, he merely stared deeply at Nangō Kumoi's back.

The heads of the major clans wore varied expressions. Some joined Hiruzen Sarutobi in polite applause, while others exchanged grave looks with those beside them.

Mito Uzumaki gave a slight nod, a faint, gratified smile appearing on her face. She did not applaud, but her very presence was the strongest final word.

Amid the strange atmosphere woven from applause and silence, Nangō Kumoi did not wait for the clapping to die down. He turned directly toward a clerical Jonin attached to the Hokage and clearly issued his first work order:

"Notify the heads of the Administrative Department, Finance Department, and Ninja Hospital, as well as... Jonin Shimura Danzō and Jonin Hiruzen Sarutobi. Two hours from now, the Hokage Office will hold the first preparatory meeting for the reconstruction team."

"Yes!" the clerical Jonin answered sharply.

Nangō Kumoi gave the crowd below one last look. After bidding farewell to Mito and the other clan heads, he walked alone into the Hokage Office.

The heavy door closed behind him, shutting out the stares and clamor beyond.

He walked behind the excessively broad desk but did not sit down immediately. Instead, his fingers brushed over its cold, smooth surface before he slowly lowered himself into the chair that belonged to the Hokage.

Heavy.

That had been his first feeling since arriving in this world. Not physical exhaustion, but an invisible weight called "responsibility," pressing heavily upon his shoulders and heart.

He leaned back in the chair and let out a long, silent breath. The composure and determination he had maintained all day slowly peeled away like a mask, revealing the genuine confusion beneath... and a faint urge to make an absurd complaint.

This is seriously screwed up... I was just an ordinary guy from a small town, making six thousand a month, lying flat after work and scrolling on my phone. Who the hell did I offend?

Sure, I occasionally complained that deliveries were slow and takeout was expensive, but I never flipped off the heavens!

So how did a "windfall from heaven" slap me from the second floor into this high-risk world?

If I had to transmigrate, fine. I'd watched plenty of Naruto.

But couldn't you at least have sent me to Naruto's era? At least then I'd know some of the main plot, know who was an ally and who was a backstabbing bastard.

And now? The Second Hokage had just died! I knew there was some legendary scheming bastard named Madara Uchiha pulling strings behind the scenes, but when exactly he'd act, how he'd act, who else was plotting besides him... I was too busy enjoying the fight scenes to remember any of the details!

The Fourth Shinobi World War... but it was only Year 20 of Konoha now, right after the First Shinobi World War. Naruto wouldn't even be born for another thirty-one years. That meant there would still be two more great wars in those thirty-one years. What a goddamn disaster-ridden world.

The only stroke of luck, perhaps, was this identity and these abilities.

He had become the Second Hokage Tobirama's disciple, learned a whole set of skills, and even possessed... well, powers that did not belong to this world. A nearly imperceptible arc of electricity and an earthy yellow halo alternated at his fingertips without conscious intent.

At least he had the means to survive and avoid being instantly turned into cannon fodder. But who knew? In this damn world, even Kage Level fighters could die just like that. Hopefully his name would not end up on a compensation list someday.

And now came the most ridiculous script of all—I, Nangō Kumoi, had become the Third Hokage.

Below the stage stood grieving, bewildered villagers. Beside him were clan heads with their own agendas. Danzo watched like a tiger from the shadows. Far away stood the other four great nations... and the history he knew was utterly useless.

Although Danzo still had a little humanity now, there was no telling whether he would stab me in the back someday. Everyone knew what Danzo's name implied. I still had to improve my strength; iron had to be hard before it could be forged.

As for giving up? Lying flat? Don't be ridiculous. The moment he sat in this chair, the life, death, fortune, and misfortune of countless people came crashing down upon him.

The look in Tobirama-sensei's eyes before his final entrustment... Lady Mito's silent support... and those civilians below who had applauded through their tears...

At least I joined the Communist Youth League at eighteen. I may not have amounted to much before, but with so many people placing their hopes in me now, how could I retreat?

Fine. Since he could not go back and had been pushed into this position, then the Hokage's duty was to protect the village.

But how would he protect it? By waiting as before for Madara to cause trouble, Obito to go insane, Nagato to tear the place apart, and then for the protagonist to save the day?

No.

His Konoha could not live amid endless conspiracies and attacks.

Since he had become Hokage, then he would rewrite the history of the Ninja World.

Let shinobi no longer risk their lives for a living. Let villagers truly love the land beneath their feet. Let the next generation grow up in stability and hope...

If he could build Konoha into an impregnable fortress of happiness, leaving every conspiracy and hostile force with nowhere to strike, even too afraid to strike... would that not count as breaking the deadlock?

He might not be the best at fighting, but construction, improving livelihoods, and selling grand promises... ah, no, drafting blueprints—those were a transmigrator's bread and butter!

At that thought, the confusion in Nangō Kumoi's eyes gradually faded, replaced by a glimmer that mixed helplessness with eager anticipation.

He sat upright, his gaze falling upon the mountain of documents.

"Alright, complaining time is over," he muttered, as though encouraging himself.

"First step: settle the compensation and the wounded. Everyone needs to see that the new Hokage keeps his word and gets things done."

"Then... I need to figure out how to pry some resources and authority out of these old foxes' hands to carry out my 'Konoha Happiness Fortress Plan.'"

"Uchiha, Hyuga, Ino-Shika-Cho, Sarutobi, Shimura..."

He rubbed his brow, yet a nearly sharp smile appeared on his face.

"Transmigration plus Hokage—this opening is already much better than those protagonists next door. Since I'm here..."

He reached out and picked up the topmost scroll, labeled "List of the Fallen and Compensation Proposal."

"Let me show you what kind of Ninja World a Hokage who only wants everyone to live well can whip into shape."