The Main World.
Spring, Konoha Year 30.
The Meeting Hall, Uchiha Clan Compound.
The sky outside the window had already darkened. A stone lantern had been lit in the courtyard, its small halo just enough to illuminate the steps outside the Meeting Hall.
Uchiha Fushan sat at the head of the hall, a freshly compiled intelligence report spread before him. This was not the first time he had read intelligence on the Toyotomi Clan, but every time, he found figures that made him uncomfortable.
Uchiha Yangwei stood beside the table, holding a copy of the same report. He was one of several clan members responsible for compiling intelligence, a man in his thirties with the Three-Tomoe Sharingan who usually said little.
Fushan turned to the second page and asked without looking up, "Give me the intelligence on the Toyotomi Clan."
Yangwei opened the dossier in his hands. His voice was neither loud nor soft, as though he were reporting in a prescribed order, without deliberately lowering his voice or adding emphasis. "The Toyotomi Clan is mainly divided into two groups. One lives in Konoha, with approximately eight hundred clan members. With support sent from the Country of Roran and tuition fees from the Martial Arts Hall, they live very comfortably and receive money every month. They take no missions and do not go to war."
He paused, then added, "If they have any work at all, it is as teachers and doctors."
Fushan's hand paused briefly as he turned the page, but he did not look up. He wanted to say something, but swallowed the words before they left his mouth. The elders seated opposite him were all waiting for him to speak, and silence held in the Meeting Hall for several breaths.
"A pack of cowards who have lost