DAIMYO: Chapter 31/35

Chapter 31: Keep the Music Going

Daimyo Manor, side hall.

Incense burned quietly in the hall, a faint elegant smoke curling upward.

The sound of string and wind instruments echoed softly.

Arashi leaned lazily on a large, soft couch. His dark robe was loose at the collar, revealing his broad chest. His expression was one of contentment.

In the center of the hall, a group of dancers swayed gracefully.

The lead dancer had a slender figure and a narrow waist.

She wore only a thin pink gauze skirt, barely covering what needed to be covered.

Her movements were nimble, and the view beneath her skirt occasionally showed through.

Her snow-white skin gleamed with a soft luster, and her long, straight legs flashed in and out as her skirt swayed.

Each spin brought a faint scent of perfume.

Each backward glance was filled with charm.

Their dance was graceful and alluring, sometimes flowing, sometimes entwined.

Every movement was a silent temptation, every gesture testing the preference of the man seated above.

They were carefully chosen beauties, gifts for the new Daimyo.

In their eyes burned raw desire.

If they could earn even a trace of favor from that man, they could rise in rank and status.

That thought made their dancing more passionate and captivating.

Arashi watched, a satisfied expression on his face, the fire in his gaze growing stronger.

At his lower seat, Aono Saku sat upright and solemn, completely out of place in this atmosphere.

"Saku."

Arashi withdrew his gaze from the dancers, lifted his wine cup, and spoke casually.

"Yes, Daimyo-sama."

Saku immediately bowed respectfully.

Arashi drank the wine in one gulp. "Are your clansmen settling well in the Fire Capital?"

Saku replied, "Thanks to Daimyo-sama's kindness, our people have settled down."

"Just settling down isn't enough," Arashi said, putting down his cup. "The funds I gave you aren't meant to be hoarded. Tell them to open shops, start businesses, and fully integrate into the Fire Capital."

"Send the talented young ones to school to learn new knowledge. Don't just cling to Ninjutsu."

"You've already joined the Anbu, so your clan should be able to stand proudly in the sunlight, not hide forever in the shadows."

"If your children's faces aren't smiling, wouldn't that make me a failure?"

Saku looked up suddenly, shock flashing in his eyes. Then gratitude replaced it. He bowed deeply, his forehead touching the floor.

His voice was hoarse with emotion. "Thank you, Daimyo-sama. The Senju Clan will serve you loyally for generations."

"Get up," Arashi said with a faint smile. "I'm not a heartless person. With me, you'll only live better."

"Thank you, Daimyo-sama!" Saku kowtowed again.

Just then, Saku caught a glimpse of a shadow outside the hall. The person didn't enter, only gave him a subtle hand signal.

Saku immediately said, "Daimyo-sama, there is news from Jin's side. Please allow me to take my leave for a moment."

"Go."

Arashi waved his hand, his attention already back on the dancers.

Saku left the side hall quickly. In a deserted corner, an Anbu operative disguised as a guard knelt on one knee, presenting a small bamboo tube with both hands.

Without a word exchanged, the handover was complete. The Anbu vanished into the courtyard.

When Saku returned to the hall, the music and dance had stopped at some point.

The dancers knelt on the ground, their bodies glistening with fragrant sweat, not daring to lift their heads.

Arashi was staring at the lead dancer with interest, his gaze openly possessive.

"Daimyo-sama." Saku stepped forward quietly and offered the bamboo tube.

Arashi didn't take it, only asked, "From Konoha?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, what interesting news is there?"

Saku opened the tube, quickly read through the secret letter, and reported concisely, "Minato Namikaze has fully carried out your will, implementing the Genius Cultivation Program and the selection of the Twelve Guardian Ninja. The results are even better than expected."

"Oh?"

Hearing that, Arashi finally sat up straight, his eyes regaining their sharpness.

"Let me see."

"Yes."

Saku handed the note over.

The information was far more detailed than what Saku had summarized.

It recorded how Uchiha Fugaku spoke eloquently, how Hyuga Hiashi schemed in secret, and the attitudes of the Ino–Shika–Chō families. Everything was clearly written.

But what caught Arashi's interest most was the final paragraph.

It described the commotion stirred up in Konoha by the matter of taking concubines.

The Uchiha were preparing to select three of their most beautiful women.

Even clans like the Inuzuka and Aburame, usually indifferent to such things, were stirred into action.

Reading this, Arashi was first surprised, then burst out laughing.

He remembered.

At the court assembly that day, one minister had suggested the idea of taking concubines to curry favor.

He hadn't taken it seriously at the time, only thinking it a gesture to please the people, and casually agreed.

Unexpectedly, that seemingly trivial decision, which he had nearly forgotten, became the final spark that shattered Konoha's balance.

No wonder the changes in Konoha were so drastic.

The Genius Cultivation Program had sown division.

The Twelve Guardian Ninja consolidated power.

And those simple words, "taking concubines," struck directly at the lifeblood of every Ninja clan, bloodline and legacy.

It became the strongest catalyst, igniting all the conflicts he had already set in motion.

In this world, the hardest thing to resist is never some earth-shattering scheme.

It is the primal desires and fears that lie deep within the human heart.

This sword called Konoha.

He had thought it would take great effort to seize it from Hiruzen Sarutobi and the other elders.

Now it seemed it wouldn't take long at all.

Arashi tossed the secret letter aside. Saku caught it and destroyed it with a Fire Release technique.

Arashi rose slowly, pacing in the hall, lost in thought.

Then he walked to the lead dancer, crouched down, and lifted her chin, making her look up.

"Tell me, with your beauty, do you think you could enter my harem?"

The dancer, trembling, replied softly, "This concubine dares not speak presumptuously. It is for Daimyo-sama to decide."

"Hahaha."

Arashi burst into laughter. "Gen."

Gen hurried in. "Your subordinate is here."

"Since everyone is so enthusiastic about the matter of concubines, if I don't handle it properly, wouldn't I be letting down their goodwill?"

A faint smile curved Arashi's lips.

"Pass on my order."

"Announce it throughout the entire Land of Fire."

"All citizens of the Land of Fire, whether nobles, ninja, or civilians, if they have an unmarried daughter of good character and appearance, they may participate."

Gen's expression brightened, and he immediately accepted the command. "Yes."

That his lord was willing to take concubines was something that delighted him.

Because it meant that the future heir would soon be born.

Arashi stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze distant.

He didn't care whether the ninja clans would send their daughters.

What he cared about were the noble families of the Fire Capital. This would be a game of division and allegiance.

The internal situation was about to stabilize.

In that case, it was time to address matters concerning the Land of Lightning.

"Also, notify Minister of Finance Tanaka Shigeru to come to my study tomorrow morning."

"Yes."

Gen bowed and left.

Arashi gestured for Saku to sit, then called to the musicians and dancers still kneeling on the floor.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Keep playing the music and keep dancing."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 32: On Top of the World

The night passed quietly, filled only with the pleasant sound of applause echoing through half the night.

When the first ray of morning sunlight shone through, Arashi woke up.

The hime beside him was still sleeping soundly, her black hair scattered across the brocade quilt, her cheeks flushed.

Like a flower glistening with morning dew.

Arashi's gaze lingered briefly on her curves before becoming calm again.

Last night's intimacy had been delightful, but nothing more.

He got out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold, smooth tiles.

The maids waiting outside entered quietly, their heads bowed, their movements graceful and silent.

One brought a hot towel, another clear salt water.

Arashi spread his arms slightly, allowing them to dress him.

Throughout the entire process, only the faint rustle of fabric could be heard.

By the time he had finished washing and was seated at the dining table, the hime had slowly woken.

Seeing Arashi already seated, her expression turned flustered, and she hurried to get up and bow.

"No need."

Arashi's tone was faint.

"Your dance was good. You will be rewarded."

"Gen will arrange your residence."

He did not look back, only waved his hand.

The hime froze for a moment, then her face brightened with joy.

She knew she had caught the Daimyo's attention.

She knelt respectfully, kowtowed, and quietly withdrew with the maids.

After breakfast, Arashi strolled to the study.

He stood before the enormous map of the Ninja World, hands clasped behind his back.

In his mind, the results of the System's deductions from several days ago began to evolve into specific strategies.

Economic influence and military deterrence.

That was the strategic guideline given by the sandbox.

But it only provided direction, not the means of execution.

The execution, however, was the real test.

Arashi pondered.

The Land of Earth was harsh and cold, and the Land of Wind was barren.

These two nations had a natural hunger for foreign goods.

But simply selling them food and weapons would be strengthening the enemy.

It had to be something non-essential yet irresistibly tempting.

Something that would rot them from within.

Arashi's thoughts gradually became clearer, as if he could already see the future.

In the cold stone palaces of Iwa, soft carpets from the Land of Fire would be spread.

On a wind-swept afternoon in Suna, nobles would sip sweet black tea they had never tasted before.

Once they grew accustomed to such luxuries, they would never return to their former lives.

If the strategy worked, Iwa and Suna's economic dependence on the Land of Fire would grow immensely, and their upper classes would become deeply tied to it.

When the seeds of desire sprouted, they would willingly become pawns in his hands, all to preserve their luxury.

Arashi took a sip of warm tea.

Everything was ready, only lacking an obedient executor.

A knock came at the study door.

"Come in."

Gen pushed the door open and bowed. "Daimyo-sama, Tanaka Shigeru requests an audience."

"Let him in."

Arashi sat back, his expression returning to a lazy calm.

Soon, the slightly plump Tanaka Shigeru entered, dressed particularly formally.

"Greetings, Daimyo-sama!"

He knelt low, performing a deep bow.

"Rise, and be seated."

"Thank you, Daimyo-sama."

Tanaka sat carefully, his posture humble, then presented a scroll.

"Reporting to Daimyo-sama, this is the preliminary budget plan for the concubine selection ceremony. Please review it."

Arashi waved a hand. "For such minor matters, you and Gen can handle them. You don't need to ask me about everything."

"Yes... this official understands!"

Tanaka quickly retracted the scroll.

Arashi spoke directly. "I called you here to discuss something else."

Tanaka straightened immediately. "Please instruct, Daimyo-sama."

"The war has ended. The country must recover, and the people must live in peace."

"I intend to strengthen trade relations with Iwa and Suna."

"What do you think we should sell them?"

Tanaka's mind raced.

Strengthen trade with Iwa and Suna? Why these two nations in particular?

What about Kumo and Kiri?

Years in politics had honed his instincts. Something about this felt deliberate.

He thought for a moment before replying cautiously, "Daimyo-sama is wise. Post-war reconstruction and mutual trade are indeed the best ways to enrich the nation and benefit the people."

"Iwa is cold and harsh, and Suna is barren. If we sell them grain and cloth in exchange for ore and local products, it would be a win-win situation!"

Arashi chuckled softly.

The light laugh made Tanaka's heart sink. He had said the wrong thing.

"Tanaka," Arashi said calmly, "you are good with finances, but your vision is too narrow."

"We cannot sell too much grain or cloth."

"If we give them too much, they will be full and warm, and then they will have the strength to pick up weapons again."

"We want to make money, not strengthen them. Do you understand?"

Tanaka immediately understood.

The Daimyo's goal was not simple trade at all.

This was a grand strategy, a terrifyingly elegant one that used economics as a weapon.

And his earlier suggestion now seemed childish.

He sat frozen, his thoughts spinning.

Not food or cloth. Not strengthening, but weakening through desire.

A flash of inspiration struck him.

Luxury goods!

Silk, porcelain, tea, fine wine.

The unique luxuries of the Land of Fire.

"This official understands! I know what we should sell now!"

"The trade of grain and cloth can remain symbolic, but what we truly need to sell are those things they lack, yet can never abandon once they have them!"

"Like silk. Which noble lady in Iwa or Suna wouldn't crave beautiful clothes? Who would want to face stone and sand forever?"

"And our porcelain. They'll need exquisite tea sets to flaunt their status."

"Oh, and sugar. No one can resist sweetness. Once people taste it, they'll never return to bitter lives!"

"We have endless supplies, and they can only buy them with money."

Tanaka spoke faster, growing excited.

He felt as though he had stepped into a new world.

These luxuries were beautiful poisons, intoxicating and corrupting.

They wouldn't make a nation stronger, only weaker, consumed by indulgence.

Arashi listened quietly, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Good. This old man was still useful.

Just as Tanaka thought he had grasped everything, Arashi asked lightly,

"Speaking of which, Kumo still refuses to sign the peace treaty?"

"They really are a bunch of fools with only muscles for brains."

"A pity. With so many good things, they won't have the fortune to enjoy them."

That one sentence made Tanaka freeze.

Strengthening trade with Iwa and Suna, excluding Kumo, corrupting their elites through luxury, tying them to Fire's wealth—all the clues clicked into place.

The goal was isolation.

To strangle Kumo economically.

This Daimyo had no intention of true peace.

He would use money and trade to choke Kumo to death outside the battlefield.

Tanaka didn't even dare breathe too loudly.

Then another thought hit him.

Iwa, Suna, Kumo... what about Kiri?

He gathered his courage. "Then... Daimyo-sama, what should we do about Kiri?"

"What do you think?"

Arashi returned the question.

Tanaka froze, then sank into thought again.

Kiri... the Hidden Mist Village... was mired in civil war, closed off from the world.

A nation consumed by internal strife, too busy with itself to interfere.

The current greatest threat to the Land of Fire was Kumo, not Kiri.

His thoughts aligned, and he bowed. "This official understands!"

"Kiri is deeply trapped in the Blood Mist conflict and cannot interfere with us, nor can it be a useful ally."

"Our main target is Kumo. We should avoid creating new problems."

"With Kiri, we only need to maintain the status quo, keeping minimal trade, neither helping nor hindering it."

"Mm."

Arashi was finally satisfied.

"Then proceed. Draft a detailed trade list and implementation plan."

"To improve efficiency, you will head a new department—the Foreign Trade Promotion Department—to handle all related affairs."

He had bet correctly.

Tanaka was overjoyed and quickly accepted.

"Oh, and," Arashi added casually, "I have some promising young people skilled in economics. They'll join the department as your deputies to gain experience."

"Yes, Daimyo-sama. This official obeys!"

He understood. These were the Daimyo's confidants.

But he felt no resentment, only relief.

It meant the Daimyo still valued him.

"You may withdraw."

"This official takes his leave!"

Tanaka bowed deeply and left the study.

Only Arashi remained.

He slowly stood and walked to the enormous map.

His gaze fell on the Land of Lightning, eyes gleaming with conquest.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 33: The Daimyo is Choosing a Concubine

The decree from the Daimyo Manor regarding the selection of consorts spread throughout the entire Land of Fire.

The decree mentioned no coercion. Instead, it was issued under the name of celebrating the new ruler's ascension, praying for national prosperity, and extending the Land's fortune. The wording was elegant and sincere.

It stated that the Daimyo, grateful for his people's support, wished to share his glory with all.

Therefore, this selection was not limited to nobles but open to the entire Land of Fire.

Any woman at least eighteen years old, unmarried, and of good character and appearance, regardless of her background, could voluntarily participate.

Once selected, she would gain great honor, and her family would receive generous rewards and protection.

It did not seem like a consort selection.

It was more like a festival that could change one's destiny.

On the day the decree was issued, the Fire Capital completely erupted.

In every street, alley, tavern, and tea house, chatter filled the air.

"Did you hear? Even civilians can join the consort selection! If our daughter is chosen, she'll be set for life!"

"My second daughter is absolutely beautiful!"

"Your second daughter? The one who looks a bit like your neighbor Watanabe?"

"Yes, that's her. It's strange, actually…"

The common folk's conversations were simple and enthusiastic. Though mixed with jokes and gossip, they saw it as proof of the Daimyo's kindness.

But inside the noble estates, the atmosphere was very different.

The noble families of the Fire Capital all held urgent meetings at once.

They understood what this really meant.

This was not merely a consort selection, but an invitation to political alignment.

"We must choose the most outstanding daughter from our clan! This is our chance for a century of prosperity!"

"The rewards don't matter. Forming a bloodline connection with the Daimyo is a priceless treasure!"

Countless greedy eyes focused on this grand event.

If possible, they all wanted their family's daughter to become the Daimyo's lady.

While the outside world was in chaos, the Daimyo Manor remained calm.

In the study, Arashi leaned by the window, leisurely sipping tea while listening to Gen's report.

"Daimyo-sama, several nobles have already sent portraits of their daughters. They've been compiled into a booklet."

Gen's tone carried excitement.

To him, his lord expanding his harem and having more descendants was a great blessing.

"Very good."

Arashi put down his teacup, then suddenly asked, "Gen, do you think I truly lack women?"

Gen froze, unsure why his lord would ask that, and could only bow respectfully. "Daimyo-sama's grace is unmatched. All women in the world are drawn to him."

"You flatter me."

Arashi shook his head slightly.

"What I lack is not women, but an opportunity to see people clearly."

His gaze fell on the streets below, where people bustled about with hidden motives.

"In this consort selection, appearance and talent are secondary."

"This is a large-scale loyalty test, a mirror to expose every hidden monster and schemer."

Arashi turned, his eyes sharp.

"Abolish the previous selection criteria."

"I have only one requirement now. Investigate the families behind the candidates."

"Their loyalty, ambition, and usefulness—these are what matter."

"As for the candidates themselves…"

He paused, a playful smile curving his lips. "What I want are vases."

"The more exquisite, the more they only know how to please me, the better. The simpler, the better."

Gen looked puzzled.

Arashi saw through his thoughts and explained calmly.

"An ambitious, capable woman will think and scheme, bringing unnecessary trouble. And I hate trouble."

"A beautiful vase, however, binds the family behind her to my side."

"What I need is loyalty and control, not a bedmate with ulterior motives."

"Do you understand?"

Gen immediately understood.

So, behind this consort selection, there was far more at play.

"This servant understands!"

"Oh, and one more thing."

Arashi suddenly gave another order.

"Issue a joint command to the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Conduct a full tax audit of all Hyuga Clan properties in the Fire Capital."

"I want to know if every single ryo they own is clean."

The order came abruptly.

It wasn't because the Hyuga Clan had refused to send a family member to participate.

It was because of their subtle hostility toward him.

They needed to be taught a lesson.

As one of Konoha's top noble families, the Hyuga owned vast property in the Fire Capital, the source of their clan's wealth.

This audit would not bankrupt them, but it would be a deep humiliation.

Through this, Arashi sent them a message.

Your hesitation will cost you your dignity.

Either kneel.

Or be crushed.

"Yes!"

Gen bowed deeply and left in a hurry.

Arashi sat back in his chair.

He knew Hyuga Hiashi would understand this warning clearly.

At the same time this order spread,

Inside the guesthouse in the Fire Capital,

Minister of Finance Tanaka Shigeru was hosting envoys from Iwa and Suna.

This time, Tanaka did not take them to the lavish noble districts. Instead, he led them through several ordinary streets.

There, they saw a different side of the Fire Capital.

The air was filled with genuine laughter from the people.

"Please look, honored guests," Tanaka said, pointing to a busy fabric shop with a smile. "The owner was once a Genin from Konoha. He was wounded in the leg during the last war and could no longer serve."

"It was Daimyo-sama who created the Disabled Ninja Support Program, allowing him to receive an interest-free loan and open this shop."

The shop owner noticed Tanaka from afar and hurried over, bowing deeply with heartfelt gratitude.

"Lord Tanaka!"

His sincerity was unmistakable.

After that, Tanaka led the envoys past a tea house.

Inside, civilians and ninja chatted about the consort selection ceremony, their expressions filled with excitement and support.

The two envoys' polite smiles grew stiff.

They exchanged silent glances, unease flickering in their eyes.

The true power of the Land of Fire was not just its wealth, but its unity.

The evening banquet further magnified that unseen pressure.

There was no music or entertainment.

The envoy from Iwa picked up a white porcelain teacup. It felt light and delicate in his hand.

A soft fragrance wafted into his nose.

He took a sip, finding the tea smooth and sweet in its aftertaste.

It reminded him of the moss tea treasured by his Daimyo.

That tea had a rough texture and a faint earthy smell.

Compared to this, it was like heaven and earth.

The envoy from Suna subtly clutched the napkin beside him.

Smooth silk, fine and soft to the touch.

In Suna, such fabric would drive noble ladies mad with envy. Even their Daimyo's banquets used only coarse linen.

But here, it was just a disposable napkin.

Such extravagance made his heart race.

What shocked them most was the sugar.

When desserts drizzled with syrup were served, both envoys froze for a moment.

In their nations, sweetness could only come from honey or fruit syrup, both scarce and seasonal luxuries.

But here, judging by Tanaka's relaxed demeanor, sugar seemed common.

Tanaka raised his cup cheerfully, smiling. He did not mention trade at all, speaking only about Daimyo-sama's devotion to peace and concern for the people.

"Honored guests, after such a long journey, you are the most distinguished visitors of our Land of Fire."

"Our Daimyo-sama often says that war brings only ruin, while prosperity is born from peace and exchange."

Then he subtly shifted his tone.

"Therefore, Daimyo-sama has instructed me to seek deeper cultural exchanges with your nations, to strengthen the friendship between our three countries."

Cultural exchange?

The envoys' hearts trembled.

They were no fools.

Behind Tanaka's warm smile hid a cunning snare.

As soon as the banquet ended, the two envoys returned to their rooms and immediately sent urgent reports back to their homelands, detailing everything they had seen, heard, and felt that day, along with Tanaka's meaningful words.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 34: Goodbye, the Former Me

Fire Capital, underground black market.

In the dark, damp passageway, the stench of rust, cheap liquor, and sweat mixed into an unbearable odor.

Mei lowered her straw hat, letting her wide robe hide her alluring figure.

Her emerald eyes cautiously scanned every shadow.

This was her last hope, her final gamble for the resistance army.

As a representative of the Hidden Mist resistance, she had risked everything to infiltrate the Fire Capital, bringing all of their remaining funds to purchase food and medical supplies for the Dawn Operation.

But reality struck her hard.

"What did you say? Triple?" Mei's voice was low and restrained. "It wasn't this price half a month ago."

Behind the counter, a merchant selling military ration pills picked his teeth with a sneer. "What year do you think it is?"

"Right now, the Land of Fire is hiring like crazy. Wages are going up every day. Even moving bricks pays better than being a ninja."

"Everyone's got money now, so how could prices not rise?"

The merchant spat out his toothpick, his tone impatient. "That's the price. Buy or don't. There's a line behind you, so stop wasting my time."

Mei clenched the money pouch in her sleeve.

The metallic touch bit into her palm.

Undeterred, she went to several other shady shops.

But the results were all the same.

The prices for all necessary supplies had skyrocketed.

Her funds could barely purchase a third of what was planned.

The Dawn Operation had been in preparation for a year, meant to rescue the families of captured comrades.

Without enough supplies, the operation would fail, and those people would die.

A middle-aged merchant, slightly kinder than the rest, noticed her pale face and sighed.

"Girl, stop trying."

"The current Daimyo is like a living god. He's reduced taxes, supports wounded ninja, and even started something called the 'Civilian Genius Cultivation Program.'"

"In the Land of Fire, as long as you're willing to work, you'll never starve."

"Soon, there won't be anyone left doing this kind of black market business."

The man's comforting words were like knives, cutting deeper and deeper into Mei's heart.

She walked out of the black market, the sudden sunlight blinding her eyes.

The wide streets were clean. The air smelled of roasted meat and sweet pastries, a sharp contrast to the stench of the underground market.

People on the streets wore new clothes, their faces full of real smiles.

A group of children ran past, laughing, holding candied hawthorns glistening in the sun.

The bright red color pierced her heart.

She remembered the Hidden Mist Village, shrouded in a haze of blood.

Children there only smiled during the graduation exam, that twisted smile that came when they drove a kunai into a comrade's chest.

But here in the Land of Fire, smiles were free, everywhere.

In front of a fabric shop, a man with a crippled leg stood proudly with his wife, showing his neighbors the pension he had received.

At a teahouse, people crowded together, talking loudly about the Daimyo.

"Did you hear? Even civilians can receive funding from the Genius Cultivation Program!"

"Daimyo-sama truly cares about us commoners!"

Every word of praise was like a silent mockery of her homeland's misery.

She had always believed that all rulers were the same—cruel, selfish, and indifferent—differing only in how they showed it.

She had believed that only rebellion, only blood and sacrifice, could bring peace.

But everything she saw now left her shaken.

A nation could be like this.

It could be prosperous, peaceful, and full of hope under a wise ruler.

People didn't have to live in fear. They could follow their leader toward a better life.

The realization struck harder than any failure.

She stumbled toward the river, gripping the railing, breathing heavily.

The reflection in the water showed her pale face and her emerald eyes filled with confusion.

Why?

Why was the Land of Fire like this, while her homeland was hell?

She thought of her childhood friend, the gentle boy who once cried over an injured bird.

He had once told her, smiling, that when the war was over, he would take her to watch the sunrise over the sea.

But because he possessed a kekkei genkai, he and his family were slaughtered like animals.

The last thing she saw was his mutilated body.

Not even a whole corpse remained.

Hatred and grief surged in her chest.

Yagura Karatachi must die.

The Blood Mist tyranny must be destroyed.

Even if it cost her life.

But when she touched the nearly empty money pouch, despair returned.

Without supplies, the Dawn Operation would fail.

Failure meant her comrades would die.

She could not accept that.

She would rather die herself than see them die for nothing.

Mei's gaze shifted from confusion to pain, and from pain to resolve.

If death held no meaning, what was her pride worth?

She recalled what she had heard earlier about the Daimyo's concubine selection.

If her body and beauty were the only weapons left to her... then why not use them?

A mad idea took root in her mind and quickly consumed her.

Concubine selection.

The Daimyo was choosing consorts, and the decree said anyone could apply.

If selected, their families would receive great rewards.

Rewards...

If she were chosen, she didn't care about glory or title. She wanted money.

Enough money to buy ten times, even a hundred times, the supplies they needed.

If she had to trade her dignity to save her comrades and the Hidden Mist Village, then so be it.

That was a trade worth making.

Once the thought appeared, it could not be stopped.

Humiliation, disgust, and self-loathing flooded her.

She could almost feel a stranger's hand judging her body.

Her stomach churned, and she nearly vomited.

But the faces of her comrades, full of faith, and the dying eyes of that boy burned in her mind.

Her weakness turned to fire.

Pride?

Dignity?

Before the future of her village, they were meaningless.

She straightened, wiping the tears from her eyes.

When she looked up again, there was no confusion left in her emerald eyes, only fierce determination.

She tore off her loose robe, revealing a blue dress that traced her perfect figure.

She combed her long brown hair and let it fall to one side of her face, leaving a hint of mystery and charm.

Looking at her reflection in the river, she gave a bitter smile.

"Daimyo of the Land of Fire... for the Hidden Mist, I will give everything I have."

"I hope you can bear the cost."

She turned away, no longer looking at the light and prosperity behind her.

Resolutely, she walked toward the direction of the concubine selection registration.

With every step, her heart ached a little more.

But her back remained straight.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 35: Broken Mist Flower

The corridor was long and silent.

Mei followed behind a maid, the sound of her wooden clogs echoing softly against the polished floor.

The maid maintained a distance of three steps from her at all times.

She neither spoke nor looked around.

Like a lifeless doll, every movement was precise and rigid.

That extreme adherence to form itself became a kind of invisible pressure.

Finally, the maid stopped before a door with no markings.

She did not open it, only turned to the side and made a slight bowing gesture.

"Please enter. Someone is waiting for you."

Mei's heart tightened.

Was she going to meet that man already?

She steadied her breathing, forcing her heart to calm.

More than a dozen plans flashed through her mind.

Probing conversation. Sudden attack. Even the desperate resolve to die together.

But when her hand touched the cold door knocker, she extinguished every one of those thoughts herself.

It was useless.

She had seen the Anbu during the enthronement ceremony.

In the Fire Capital, in this man's palace, any resistance was laughable.

She pushed open the door.

Inside, there was none of the luxury she had imagined.

It was empty.

The walls were dull gray, the air thick with the mixed scent of herbs and aged wood.

In the center stood three old women dressed in dark kimonos.

Their hair was white, faces wrinkled, and expressions solemn.

As Mei entered, the heavy wooden door behind her slowly closed.

Click.

The soft sound of the lock falling made her pulse quicken.

Her emerald eyes tightened, and her hand instinctively reached for her back.

It was empty.

Only then did she remember that all her weapons had been confiscated before entry.

"No need to be nervous."

The leading old woman finally spoke, her voice dry, like leaves rubbing together.

"We are simply following orders."

Another old woman stepped forward, holding a wooden tray.

On it lay a ruler, a measuring tape, and a thick booklet.

"There are rules for the consort selection."

"There is a system for entering the palace."

"Before you meet Daimyo-sama, you must undergo a full examination."

The color drained from Mei's face.

She was not naive. She knew exactly what "examination" meant.

"Take off your clothes. All of them."

The old woman's tone was calm, almost casual.

But the words hit Mei like a blade.

Humiliation and rage surged through her.

She was the leader of the Hidden Mist resistance.

An elite Jonin who had mastered two Kekkei Genkai.

She had waded through seas of blood, snapped the necks of countless enemies.

And now she was being treated like an object, to be inspected?

"What if I refuse?"

Her voice was cold, trembling slightly even as she spoke.

A ripple finally appeared in the old woman's eyes.

Not surprise, not anger.

Pity.

"Girl, think carefully."

"Once this door closes, there's no turning back."

"If you refuse now, we won't force you. We'll just escort you out."

"But everything you seek will vanish with that choice."

Her words were calm, but each syllable pressed heavier on Mei's chest.

She clenched her fists, her nails cutting deep into her palms. The pain helped her stay clear-headed.

She thought of her comrades still fighting in the blood mist.

She thought of her ruined, suffering homeland.

She was their hope.

If she turned back here, what would their sacrifices mean?

Mei slowly opened her fists.

The fragile pride in her heart was crushed, turned to dust beneath the weight of duty.

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, the anger and resistance were gone.

What remained was acceptance.

And sacrifice.

Her trembling fingers moved to untie the sash at her waist.

The blue dress slipped down, pooling around her feet.

Then the undergarments.

One by one.

Her figure was flawless, every line perfect.

An ounce more would be excess, an ounce less too thin.

The old women's eyes passed over her inch by inch.

There was no admiration.

Only evaluation.

"Turn around."

The dry voice sounded again.

Mei's body stiffened, but she obeyed.

A cold sensation touched her back.

The wooden ruler.

The old woman moved it down her spine, section by section, professional and precise.

"Bones straight. No old injuries."

Then came the tape measure, brushing against her skin.

A chill made goosebumps rise across her body.

"Shoulder width."

"Arm length."

"Waist circumference."

"Hip circumference."

"Leg length."

One measured while another recorded in the booklet.

The process dragged on endlessly.

From height and weight to finger length, even the thickness of her hair was noted.

She forced herself to detach. To empty her mind.

She recalled her clumsy first attempts at Chakra control.

The joy of her first completed mission.

The laughter of comrades drinking under the sunset.

Those memories were her only defense.

"All right."

"Lie face down on that couch."

The voice snapped her back to reality.

She turned her head and saw a narrow couch in the corner, covered with a white cloth.

Her heart sank.

Her worst fear had come.

She didn't move. Her feet felt rooted to the ground.

"Girl."

There was impatience in the old woman's tone now.

"Don't waste everyone's time."

Mei bit her lip until she tasted blood.

She knew she had no choice.

Step by step, she moved forward, her motions mechanical.

When she lay face down on the couch, hot tears slid down her cheeks uncontrollably.

Nausea and shame filled her chest.

Her instincts screamed to resist.

But a hand, cold and heavy, pressed against her back.

She wanted to fight, but she couldn't.

Time crawled.

Each second was torture.

Her mind went blank.

All her pride and strength turned to ash.

She didn't know how long it lasted.

The hand finally lifted.

"Intact."

"No body odor."

"Good condition. Very clean."

The old woman wiped her hands with a white cloth and gave her verdict flatly.

"Get up."

"Put your clothes on."

"Someone will take you to see Lord Gen."

The three old women packed up their things and exited through a hidden door without another glance.

Only Mei remained.

She lay on the couch, unmoving.

Her blank eyes stared at the floor.

There lay her tears.

And her shattered dignity.

(To be continued.)