The Uchiha's road to riches

Winter, Konoha Year Seven.

The snow had stopped several days ago, but the thaw chilled the bones even more. Inside the Pine Wind Pavilion, a little tavern beside the Naka River, voices clamored as heat and the smell of liquor rose toward the roof.

In a corner, several police officers in dark blue uniforms bearing the Uchiha Gunbai crest on their shoulders crowded around a table strewn with cups and dishes. They were all young, their faces marked by the fatigue of a night shift and the flush of a few ounces of sake.

"Goddamn it, night patrol isn't a job for human beings!" An officer named Uchiha Ken slammed his cup down, splashing a few drops of liquor. "Spent another whole night in those shitty alleys in the northwest district yesterday. Didn't see a damn soul, and my toes nearly froze off! And what happened? We handed over this morning, and the squad captain came over and tore into us for not keeping detailed patrol records! Detailed, my ass! All that happened the entire night was two stray dogs fighting. Was I supposed to take a fucking statement from the dogs?"

A slightly older officer beside him, Uchiha Long, sighed and refilled Ken's cup. "Keep it down, Ken. Those are the rules. Just bear with it. At least... at least our district's fairly quiet. We don't have that much crap to deal with."

"What fucking good is quiet?" Another officer, the tall, thin Uchiha Deng, curled his lip and lowered his voice, though his eyes flicked toward the tavern entrance. "Haven't you heard? Or are you pretending you don't know? The East District, the area Branch Chief Yinglang runs, is swimming in money these days!"

The table went quiet for a moment. They exchanged glances, their eyes shifting.

"Deng, what did you hear?" Ken leaned closer, breathing liquor fumes into Deng's face.

Deng looked around and lowered his voice further, sour envy creeping into it. "I've got a cousin in the East District branch. He told me that's what a real posting looks like! Patrol? It's a cushy job! The shopkeepers see a Uchiha uniform and treat you like their own father! Why? They're scared! Anything the slightest bit against regulations, heh..." He rubbed his fingers together. "Give them enough of this, and anything can be worked out. Don't, and out comes the rule book. They'll pick through every clause and fine you until it hurts!"

Long frowned. "Isn't... isn't that abusing their authority? If the higher-ups find out..."

"The higher-ups?" Deng scoffed. "Branch Chief Yinglang is the higher-up! He calls it 'flexible enforcement' and 'contributing to Konoha's public safety'! My cousin said their branch is handing out allowances several times what they used to get! New winter uniforms, easy reimbursements for ninja tool wear and tear, and some mysterious 'duty supplement' at the end of the month! And us?" He slapped his uniform sleeve, washed almost white. "A whole night on patrol for enough to buy a few bowls of ramen! And we still have to put up with the squad captain's moods!"

Ken stared, swallowing. "It's... it's really that good?"

"Good? It's damn good!" Deng took a gulp of liquor and wiped his mouth. "The important thing is, if something happens, the branch chief really backs you up! My cousin dealt with a fight last time, and one of the people involved had connections and started shouting about filing a complaint. Guess what? The branch chief just said, 'The Konoha Military Police Force acts according to the law. If you object, follow the proper procedures.' I don't know what he did afterward, but that guy's family meekly paid double the fine without daring to say a damn word! These days, people from the East District branch walk around standing taller than any of us!"

Silence fell over the table again, broken only by the soft clink of cups and the sound of swallowing. Envy, resentment, and a little anger weighed down by reality mingled with the fumes of liquor.

Long sighed, almost speaking to himself. "But doing things like this... won't it cause trouble in the long run? After all, Konoha isn't the Uchiha's alone. There are other clans, and Lord Hokage is watching..."

"Trouble?" Deng snorted. "Look at Konoha right now. The First is bedridden, and the Second is run off his feet all day. Every village has its eyes on us. Stability comes before everything! With Branch Chief Yinglang's methods, at least on the surface, public safety's improved and there are fewer incidents. The higher-ups will turn a blind eye. Besides..."

He paused, a gleam in his eyes. "My cousin hinted that they're still recruiting. They want people who are 'sharp' and 'know how things work.' Tell me... what are we getting out of slogging away here? Maybe... we should give it a try?"

His words were like a pebble dropped into their hearts, sending ripples spreading outward. No one answered, but their gazes began to wander.

On an equally cold night, the lights in the office in the Hokage Building stayed on until late.

Tobirama Senju stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the desk. Outside lay Konoha's silent nightscape, its scattered lights shivering in the winter night. He held a report that was not particularly thick but was densely covered in writing. He had been reading it for a long time.

Hiruzen Sarutobi stood quietly a short distance in front of the desk, his hands resting naturally at his sides, wearing his customary earnest, slightly guileless expression. He had just finished reporting on the recent progress in preparations for the Chunin Ninja Exams and was waiting for his teacher's next instructions.

"Hiruzen." Tobirama Senju spoke suddenly, his voice exceptionally clear and cold in the silent room.

"Yes, Teacher."

"How much do you know about the recent situation at the Konoha Military Police Force's East District branch?"

Hiruzen Sarutobi's heart tightened slightly, but nothing showed on his face. He appeared to consider it briefly. "I've heard a little. They say public safety in the East District has improved markedly under Branch Chief Yinglang's management. The Konoha Military Police Force's work has been... quite effective." He chose his words carefully.

"Quite effective?" Tobirama finally turned, his gaze behind his glasses sharp as a blade as it bore straight into Hiruzen. "Quite effective at 'raking in money,' you mean!"

He lightly tossed the report onto the desk with a soft slap.

"Under the pretexts of 'maintaining Konoha's public safety' and 'flexible enforcement,' they set fines according to who they're dealing with and adjust bail however they please. They've even introduced tiers in the prison, assigning treatment based on so-called contributions. They've perfected their entire set of twisted arguments!" Little emotion could be heard in Tobirama Senju's voice, but its icy sarcasm seemed to lower the room's temperature by several degrees. "In just one month, the East District branch's extra income on the books has equaled that of every other district combined. As for the off-the-books tributes and donations, they're beyond counting!"

Hiruzen Sarutobi displayed a suitable touch of surprise and bewilderment. "Something like that actually happened? That's... that is rather out of line. But, Teacher, if it really improves public safety and gives the officers better compensation, perhaps... it has its merits?" He spoke tentatively, playing the part of a somewhat naive student who valued practical results.

"Merits?" Tobirama Senju stepped closer and stared into Hiruzen's eyes. "Hiruzen, you can't just look at the surface. Improved public safety? That's temporary peace built on harsh punishments and unequal treatment! Better compensation for the officers? That's been fed by sacrificing the interests of Konoha's villagers, especially ordinary people without connections and the weaker clans!"

He tapped the report hard with his finger. "Most importantly-he's making money! Brazenly using the Uchiha's authority to make money off Konoha! Do you understand, Hiruzen?"

The timely surprise on Hiruzen Sarutobi's face deepened, accompanied by just the right amount of confusion. "Money? Teacher, doesn't the village fund the Konoha Military Police Force? Why are they... making money?"

"Why?" Tobirama's lips curved coldly, as though mocking his student's "innocence." "What can money do? It can buy loyalty, train death-sworn fighters, upgrade equipment, and win over other minor clans without influence! In short-with money, the Uchiha can recover their strength faster, and even develop more covertly and dangerously than when Madara was here!"

He turned to look out the window again, his voice lower but every word hard as iron. "That brat Yinglang is harder to deal with than Yuanguang. Yuanguang was stupid, thinking he could sell out his clan for personal glory. Yinglang is wicked. He wants to hollow out Konoha to fatten the Uchiha, and still claim the moral high ground! The Will of Fire? All he sees is the Uchiha's will, his own power and wealth!"

Hiruzen Sarutobi lowered his head and looked at the polished floor, as though absorbing his teacher's harsh judgment. But beneath his lowered eyelids, his eyes flickered slightly.

Making money... developing the clan...

Teacher was right, but not entirely. Yinglang's methods were crude and his greed was ugly, but he really had gotten his hands on money. And with it, he had quickly stabilized and strengthened his branch, even beginning to attract other Uchiha police officers.

Money really was a wonderful thing. With money, a great many things did become easier. Developing the clan, training its children, maintaining connections-what didn't require money? How could they grow stronger while scraping by on the village's fixed funding and mission payments alone?

Yinglang had taken the wrong path. He was too conspicuous and had earned Teacher's dislike. But the idea of "making money" itself... were there more discreet, more "compliant" ways? Perhaps he could work something out with commissions on mission contracts? Put some thought into the village's infrastructure construction and supply procurement? Or support some merchant associations and businesses with no apparent connection to the Sarutobi Clan?

Hiruzen Sarutobi's thoughts raced, but his face remained grave, even showing a little sympathy for his teacher's concerns. "Teacher, what should we do now? Should we give the East District branch a warning? Or restrict their funding?"

Tobirama Senju was silent for a moment before saying slowly, "A warning? He's waiting for me to give him one. It would substantiate his grievance about being 'targeted by the leadership' and rally the Uchiha behind him even more. As for funding... acting now would make me look insecure, afraid of him growing powerful."

He returned behind his desk and sat down, interlacing his fingers beneath his chin. "Watch for now. Have the Anbu keep a close eye on them, especially where the money goes. Also..." He raised his eyes toward Hiruzen. "Make sure the Chunin Ninja Exams go well. This is the time to display Konoha's unity and the superiority of its system. Let everyone see what the right path truly is. And pay more attention to the younger generation in every clan. The young Uchiha aren't all of one mind with Yinglang."

"Yes, Teacher. I understand," Hiruzen Sarutobi answered respectfully, while quietly committing both "making money to develop the clan" and "watching for opportunities to win over young Uchiha" to memory.

After leaving the Hokage Office, Hiruzen Sarutobi walked along the cold, deserted corridor. The guileless look on his face gradually faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression.

Yinglang, oh, Yinglang. You really have taught me a lesson. The Will of Fire was something spoken for the world to hear, a respectable garment worn over oneself. But beneath those clothes, what clan didn't have a whole extended family in tow? What clan wasn't thinking of climbing higher and finding a way forward?

You acted ostentatiously, with ugly greed, making yourself a target and drawing all the fire. But some of your methods weren't beyond borrowing. They just needed a more respectable outer garment, more discretion, and greater care.

He looked up toward the window at the end of the corridor. Outside, the night was impenetrably dark. An almost imperceptible curve touched his lips, then vanished in the cold light.