Registration for the Genius Class wrapped up by midday.

By afternoon, Kitazawa made his way to the ANBU Base, the quiet corridors echoing faintly with the disciplined footsteps of operatives.

At the entrance to his office, Konan was already waiting. As always, she moved with grace, opening the door for him a step ahead.

She had long since adapted to life in Konoha’s ANBU—her stoic demeanor blending seamlessly with their shadows.

“Thank you,” Kitazawa said as he entered.

Konan nodded slightly and handed him a sealed scroll.

“This arrived yesterday—from the Ocean’s Heart Jewelry Store in the Capital of the Land of Fire.”

Kitazawa broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. His eyes scanned the neat handwriting as Konan stood silently by.

The report was promising.

The Ocean’s Heart store had officially opened and was already thriving. The fame of the Daimyō’s wife—and the buzz from the Necklace Auction—had turned it into a sensation overnight.

Every day since the grand opening, customers flooded in. Both luxury commissions and the standard necklace lines were selling out faster than expected.

The Hyuga Clan artisans had been working nonstop for over half a month, exhausted but exhilarated—because ten percent of the profits went directly to them.

Kitazawa couldn’t help but chuckle. “With this much money coming in, I honestly don’t even know how to spend it all.”

Konan gave him a look of quiet disbelief but said nothing.

Still, the numbers startled her. The sheer profit margin was staggering.

A faint thought crossed her mind—all those years, Akatsuki ran missions across the continent, risking their lives for pocket change… and here a single jewelry shop earns more in a month than we did in years.

It was almost absurd.

Fortunately, Kitazawa had already promised her that, as Akatsuki’s Advisor, he would oversee its financial division once the organization stabilized. Soon, Akatsuki would no longer need to rely on mercenary contracts or blood-soaked missions.

Beyond the Eye of the Moon Plan, their remaining revenue could finally be used to rebuild the Land of Rain and restore Amegakure.

That had always been Akatsuki’s original dream.

When Yahiko lived, the organization had been created not for domination—but for peace. Peace for the Land of Rain, peace for a war-torn world.

But Yahiko’s death, Nagato’s descent into despair, and the emergence of the masked man claiming to be Uchiha Madara had twisted that dream into something far darker.

“What are you thinking about?” Kitazawa asked suddenly, noticing Konan’s distant gaze.

“…Nothing.” She shook her head, then added smoothly, “I was just considering the construction progress of the Land of Rain’s Silver Processing Plant.”

Kitazawa nodded. “At best, half a month. A full month if there are delays.”

Once operational, the plant would refine the mined silver ore into materials suitable for jewelry crafting—a critical step in expanding production.

“When it’s finished,” Konan asked after a moment, “do you plan to open more stores? If so, where?”

“Anywhere in the Five Great Nations,” Kitazawa replied, smiling slightly. “Which one do you have in mind?”

Konan considered for a moment. “The Land of Earth,” she said finally. “Many of Akatsuki’s old clients were nobles from there. If we use the same promotional approach, they could help spread the brand quickly.”

“Fair point.” Kitazawa set the scroll aside, his expression thoughtful.

Truthfully, he hadn’t yet decided how to advertise Akatsuki’s upcoming silver line. But there was time—and he trusted his instincts to find the right moment.

“I do have one question,” Konan said, frowning slightly. “How will we handle transportation? The distance from the Land of Rain to the Land of Earth isn’t exactly short.”

“That’s easy,” Kitazawa replied with a faint grin. “We’ll use large Summoning Beasts.”

Konan blinked. “Summoning Beasts…?”

Then the realization hit her—and her eyes lit up.

It was actually brilliant.

Akatsuki had no shortage of massive summons. Pain’s Animal Path alone could summon creatures like the Multi-Headed Dog, the Hell Crab, and the Eight-Handed Crow—each capable of hauling tons of material.

Not to mention, the Deva Path’s gravity manipulation could lift and move entire shipments effortlessly.

But then she froze.

The thought of using Yahiko’s body—the Deva Path—to carry boxes of silver ore felt… almost sacrilegious.

Her gaze drifted toward Kitazawa again.

Ever since joining him, her way of thinking had changed more than she liked to admit. The cold logic of the shinobi world—life, death, duty—had started to blur around him.

She was beginning to view ninja not just as warriors, but as… tools of progress. Resources. Productivity.

“What’s wrong?” Kitazawa asked, meeting her eyes. “Still have questions?”

Konan quickly composed herself and shook her head. “No, that’s all.”

“Then we’ll leave it at that for now,” he said, stacking the papers neatly on his desk before standing.

As he walked past her toward the door, Konan followed him with her gaze—quietly realizing something unsettling.

Kitazawa wasn’t just reshaping Konoha’s system.

He was reshaping the very idea of what it meant to be a shinobi.

And somehow… she found herself wanting to see how far he would go.

Kitazawa had originally been heading straight to see Tsunade, but midway through the walk, a thought struck him. He changed direction and instead made his way to the Hokage Secretariat.

Currently, Konoha’s administration boasted thirteen secretaries—four supervisors and nine assistants.

Each of the four had their own office, while the nine shared one large workspace.

Kitazawa stopped before a familiar door and knocked lightly.

“Come in,” came a calm, composed voice from inside.

Kitazawa pushed the door open with a smile. “Itachi, long time no see.”

“Lord Kitazawa,” Itachi greeted respectfully, standing immediately.

Technically, he didn’t need to use the honorific—Secretaries ranked directly under the Hokage—but Kitazawa was no ordinary official. He was Tsunade’s prized disciple, Konoha’s most promising rising figure, and someone who had helped the Uchiha Clan more than once.

“I have a favor to ask,” Kitazawa said directly. “Help me locate a place—Forgotten Island, in the Land of the Sea.”

He intended to find Uzumaki Honoka, who had been living in seclusion there. If he could bring her back to Konoha, she could oversee the Ocean’s Heart jewelry business as its manager.

Originally, Kitazawa’s ideal choice for that role had been Konan. She had learned a great deal under him—business acumen, strategy, and leadership. She was perfect for managing the jewelry stores, trade routes, and even the underwater exploration teams.

But that would only be possible if she joined Konoha.

Which meant one thing: the Akatsuki would either have to submit—or be crushed.

Right now, he lacked the power to challenge them. For the moment, he would have to rely on patience… and the system.

“I understand,” Itachi said at once. “I’ll have a team begin the search immediately.”

“Good. Notify me when there’s progress,” Kitazawa instructed, then added, “And don’t alert anyone on the island.”

“Understood.”

After a brief exchange, Kitazawa left the Secretariat and made his way to the Hokage’s Office.

The moment he entered, Tsunade’s golden eyes lit up. “You came just in time. Over here.”

“What’s up?” Kitazawa asked, curious.

“Give me money.”

Kitazawa blinked. “…What?”

“The profits from the Jewelry Store!” she demanded, holding out her hand like a debt collector.

Ah. Of course.

The ANBU’s intelligence division always sent reports in duplicate—one to him, one to her. She must have already seen the latest financial summary from the Capital.

“I told you I’d keep it safe for you,” he said with a grin.

“Then at least give me one million ryō,” Tsunade countered, lips curling into a faint pout. “I’ll go to the casino after work and relax.”

“Relax?” Kitazawa raised an eyebrow. “Every time you ‘relax’ at the casino, you come back ready to punch a hole through the wall.”

Tsunade’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you giving it or not?”

Her glare could make a lesser man crumble. Kitazawa sighed in mock surrender, pulling a thick bundle of cash from his pouch. “Eight hundred thousand ryō.”

“Why two hundred thousand short?”

“Because eight hundred thousand sounds luckier,” he said seriously. “It’ll boost your gambling fortune.”

For a moment, Tsunade stared—then burst out laughing, her shoulders shaking. “You’re impossible.”

Still, she pocketed the money without complaint. Eight hundred thousand was plenty—and she wasn’t about to bite the hand that fed her.

“What did you come here for?” she asked after a moment, tucking the cash away. “If it’s nothing serious, you can take over for me this afternoon. I’m going to the casino.”

Kitazawa immediately held out his hand. “Only if you pay me.”

“In your dreams.”

Their hands met midair with a sharp smack.

“Then work yourself,” Kitazawa said bluntly.

“I’m still your teacher,” Tsunade shot back, crossing her arms. “Don’t you think it’s wrong to talk to me like that?”

“I’ll listen,” Kitazawa said, smirking, “but on one condition.”

Her instincts flared. “What condition?”

“I want Kabuto to become Orochimaru’s assistant.”

Tsunade froze for a moment—then unexpectedly exhaled in relief.

“That’s it?” she said. “You scared me. Honestly, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Exactly. Kabuto has talent in research. If he learns under Orochimaru, he could make real progress.”

Tsunade nodded. “Fine by me. Whether Orochimaru teaches him depends on how useful Kabuto proves.”

“Oh, he will,” Kitazawa said confidently.

After all, in the original timeline, Kabuto had inherited nearly all of Orochimaru’s knowledge and perfected his techniques. Kitazawa had no doubt history would repeat itself—just a bit earlier.

“Alright then,” Tsunade said, standing up. “If you’re done, I’m heading out.”

Kitazawa gestured toward the Hokage’s chair. “Then hand over the seat.”

“If someone overheard that,” Tsunade quipped, “they’d think you were plotting a coup.”

Kitazawa leaned back in the chair, smiling lazily. “If I did rebel, shouldn’t that make you happy?”

She blinked, then chuckled softly as the meaning sank in.

If Kitazawa ever overthrew her, she’d finally have an excuse to retire—and she couldn’t even deny that the thought was appealing.

As she turned to leave, she paused by his chair, leaned down slightly, and pressed her lips to his forehead.

“Borrowing you some luck,” she said, smiling faintly before walking away.

The door closed behind her.

Kitazawa chuckled under his breath.

Tsunade really has changed… more than she realizes.

Settling into the Hokage’s chair, he began to handle the day’s paperwork.

Most of it was routine—nothing the Secretariat couldn’t manage—but it gave him time to think and refine his Yang Release Chakra Mode.

The next morning arrived—Monday, the official start of the new school term.

It was Iruka’s theory class, but Kitazawa still stopped by the Ninja Academy, wanting to check on his new transfers: Kimimaro, Haku, Jugo, and especially Tayuya.

To his mild surprise, they were behaving well.

Well… three of them were.

Tayuya, however, couldn’t seem to sit still.

She fidgeted during lessons, tapped her desk, and stared out the window more often than she listened.

Kitazawa watched from outside the window, then sighed quietly.

It wasn’t disobedience—just habit.

Orochimaru had taken her from a young age and raised her in a brutal environment of endless combat and survival. She’d been trained only in Ninjutsu—never in reading, writing, or theory.

For someone like her, sitting still through a lecture was harder than fighting a battle.

Kimimaro, Haku, and Jugo had likely come from similar circumstances. They just hid it better.

Still, watching them now, sitting among the next generation of Konoha’s geniuses, Kitazawa couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride.

The world was changing—and so were its shinobi.

After the first class ended, Kitazawa met briefly with Iruka to discuss the issue.

There was only one real solution—personal tutoring.

Given Iruka’s existing workload, Kitazawa arranged for an additional theory instructor from another division to assist him, dedicating one-on-one sessions for Kimimaro, Tayuya, Jugo, and Haku.

They weren’t behind due to lack of talent, but because their lives had been nothing but survival and combat.

Books and theory had no place in that kind of world.

When the theory period ended, it was time for the part of the curriculum they understood best—practical training.

Tuesday Morning

After breakfast, Kitazawa made his way to the teacher’ss office, where Hiruzen, Kosuke, and Kakashi were gathered.

None of them had attended the enrollment ceremony, so they hadn’t yet heard about the four new transfers.

“Orochimaru’s subordinates?” Hiruzen muttered, exhaling smoke from his pipe. “That man never did anything humane… not even in Otogakure.”

Kosuke gave a small sigh. “Even so, their potential is undeniable—especially Kimimaro. The Kaguya Clan was once the most prominent bloodline clan of the Hidden Mist.”

Hiruzen’s expression darkened slightly. “Hidden Mist’s way of handling them was too brutal. Wiping out an entire clan… that’s not justice. That’s self-destruction.”

Kitazawa stayed silent, though something stirred in his chest.

The Kaguya Clan’s fate was not so different from the Uchiha’s.

If not for his butterfly effect, this very conversation might have included the Uchiha massacre as well.

“What’s your plan for these kids?” Kakashi asked, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll take responsibility for them,” Kitazawa replied. “But I’d like all of you to keep an eye on them for now—at least until they adjust.”

“No problem,” Hiruzen nodded.

Kosuke and Kakashi gave their quiet assent as well.

Kitazawa went on to outline his next idea—a practical examination involving every student in the Genius Class, scheduled for the first monthly test of the term.

All three agreed without objection.

The students of the Genius Class had gathered in full at the training ground.

“So it’s finally time to fight?” Tayuya asked, her eyes lighting up at the word practical. To her, “training” and “battle” were one and the same.

“It’s training, not fighting,” Ino corrected, hands on her hips.

“What’s the difference?” Tayuya frowned. “Isn’t fighting the best kind of training?”

Ino sighed. “In the Genius Class, fighting is for testing progress, not for fun.”

Tayuya blinked at her, clearly not understanding.

Still, she thought to herself, at least these people have good snacks.

“Before we start, I have an announcement.”

Kitazawa walked to the front, his presence instantly silencing the group.

“Given that we have four new classmates, the first practical exam will include every student in the Genius Class.”

“Alright!” Naruto pumped his fist. “Finally, I get to spar with Sasuke again!”

“Prepare to lose,” Sasuke replied calmly, hands buried in his pockets.

“This is such a drag…” Shikamaru muttered. He was training harder than before, but hard work could only take him so far—not when facing monsters like Sasuke.

“Ino,” Sakura said suddenly, turning with a determined spark in her eyes. “You’d better prepare to lose too.”

“Hey! Don’t copy Sasuke’s lines!” Ino shot back.

Tenten tilted her head. “Sakura, why do you sound so different lately?”

Sakura crossed her arms and huffed. “Because everyone said I was too weak. So I’m going to prove you all wrong!”

Around them, excitement buzzed through the class.

“I can’t wait to see how strong everyone here is,” Tayuya said, clenching her fists.

Kimimaro glanced at her but said nothing.

For him, first place wasn’t a goal—it was an identity.

He had been first in Otogakure: the strongest, the chosen vessel, the perfect weapon.

And now, in Konoha, that would not change.

Jugo and Haku stood nearby, calmer and less competitive. They simply wanted to participate—not to dominate.

“Alright,” Kitazawa said, “you can all begin your standard training. Kimimaro, Tayuya, and Jugo—come with me.”

He led them to the far end of the training ground, away from the others.

He didn’t call Haku — the boy was already learning Ice Release under ANBU guidance. His regimen didn’t need to change.

When they stopped, Kitazawa turned to the three and said, “In the Genius Class, we design personalized training for every student.”

The three stared at him, momentarily stunned.

Personalized training?

It sounded like heaven.

In Otogakure, the method had been brutally simple—teach a jutsu, then throw the child into a pit of death matches.

Those who survived were allowed to keep learning.

Those who didn’t… became corpses to study.

The contrast was staggering.

Tayuya folded her arms, skeptical. “They probably just teach basic Ninjutsu here.”

Kitazawa’s gaze fell on her. “Tayuya, I’ll teach you a B-rank genjutsu.”

Her eyes widened. “Huh?”

“This technique is called Demonic Flute: Illusory Sound Locking.”

He held out his hand. “Give me your flute.”

She blinked, confused, then reluctantly passed him the instrument.

Kitazawa raised it to his lips and channeled chakra into it.

The haunting melody filled the air—and instantly, Tayuya’s vision warped.

She was no longer standing in the training field.

Blood.

Corpses.

The screams of the underground arena in Otogakure echoed around her.

Before she could breathe, spectral ropes descended and bound her limbs.

Fear clawed up her spine.

Is he trying to take revenge on me?

And then—silence.

The flute sound stopped. The illusion shattered.

When her vision cleared, she found herself back in the field, trembling and drenched in cold sweat.

“This,” Kitazawa said evenly, handing her the flute, “is Demonic Flute: Illusory Sound Locking. From now on, my Shadow Clone will instruct you in mastering it.”

He formed a seal, and a clone appeared beside her.

Tayuya stood frozen, her heart still pounding.

But realization slowly dawned on her.

She had mocked him, doubted him, even disrespected him—yet he was still teaching her a B-Rank technique.

Her gaze flickered toward Kimimaro and Jugo.

If someone like her was given this kind of instruction…

Then what kind of terrifying training had the others received?

——————————–

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