217. Daimyo

“In the current situation, my appearance would only backfire,” a lean figure emerged from the shadows. It was none other than Uchiha Tajima, who had returned from the dead. His weathered face carried a hint of relief, and his black eyes softened as he gazed at the retreating figures of Uchiha Madara and his brother. Letting out a sigh, he explained,

“Are you planning to leave without saying goodbye?”

Uchiha Gin raised an eyebrow at his uncle’s resigned demeanor. First, he wanted to meet his nephews; now he didn’t. Gin couldn’t make sense of it. It was just a farewell, not some life-and-death parting.

“Madara has already made what he believes is the right choice. If I appear now, it will only unsettle his mind,” Tajima shook his head. He knew his son well. Madara was highly emotional, and the slightest action or word from others could sway his judgment. If Madara found out his father was alive, there was no telling what might happen. Tajima was determined to avoid such disruptions.

“Alright then. Let’s head out,” Gin stretched lazily, deciding not to overthink his uncle’s logic. Turning to Tajima, he gestured, “Shall we?”

“This is quite far from the coast. You don’t need to come. I’ll go meet Elder Haru alone,” Tajima replied, shaking his head. With the current festivities, Gin’s sudden disappearance might raise unnecessary concerns. Tajima preferred to leave quietly.

“I insist, Uncle,” Gin smirked, placing a hand on Tajima’s shoulder. Before the older man could react, both figures vanished from the room without a trace.

Meanwhile, Senju Tobirama, dressed in the formal attire of the Senju Clan, narrowed his crimson eyes at a group of mysterious young women from the Uchiha Clan. One particularly tall, dark-haired woman caught his attention. Her aura felt oddly familiar, though he couldn’t place where he had encountered it before.

“Flying Thunder God’s aura? But it’s different...” he muttered to himself.

Just as he was deep in thought, a sudden spatial fluctuation broke his concentration.

“Tobirama! Why are you staring at the Uchiha girls like that? Don’t tell me you…”

Senju Hashirama, clad in a beige outer robe, appeared behind his younger brother, slapping him heartily on the shoulder with a wide grin. Yet, there was an uneasy undertone to his cheerful demeanor.

“Hmph! Do you think everyone is as frivolous as you?” Tobirama, visibly irritated, delivered a sharp elbow jab to his elder brother and retorted disdainfully, dismissing the spatial anomaly from his mind.


---

On the coastal border of the Land of Fire, a massive black ship lay hidden among cliffs and jagged rocks. Uchiha Haru stood on the deck, directing his men to load heavy wooden crates onto the vessel. Suddenly, a golden flash lit up the deck, and two figures appeared.

“Ugh…” Tajima, looking pale, stumbled to the side of the ship and began retching violently. Gin, the culprit behind his uncle’s discomfort, could only sigh, patting his back sympathetically.

“You’ll get used to it. Everyone does on their first time,” Gin said nonchalantly.

“This technique… is it that Senju white-haired brat’s jutsu?” Tajima turned his ashen face to Gin, still reeling from the nausea. He had always found Tobirama’s space-time jutsu unsettling and difficult to counter.

“Nope, mine’s way better than his,” Gin denied with a wave of his hand, clarifying that his version was far superior.

His technique was an improved variant of the Flying Thunder God, inspired by Minato Namikaze’s perfected method. It was far beyond Tobirama’s capabilities.

“You’re truly a genius,” Tajima remarked, casting a profound glance at his nephew. Since Gin had narrowly escaped the Senju years ago, he had undergone an extraordinary transformation, becoming a man of unparalleled mystery and depth, even to his uncle.

“That’s a fact!” Gin replied with a cheeky grin.



“Old Clan Leader, have you finished speaking with the Clan Head?”

On the deck, Uchiha Haru asked Uchiha Tajima, who had just recovered somewhat,
“We’ll save the meeting for another time. There are more pressing matters to handle,” Tajima replied, shaking his head. Still trembling from his earlier nausea, he didn’t want his presence to disrupt his son’s judgment.

“Impressive! The Uchiha truly excel in technology. You actually built it!”

Taking advantage of the conversation’s pause, Uchiha Gin wandered around the steel ship, marveling at its design. The ship was a spontaneous idea of his—after sketching a rough draft, he handed it to Uchiha Haru for refinement. Once Haru confirmed it was feasible, Gin immediately handed over ten gold ingots to the astonished elder, insisting that the project be expedited.

The ship’s design was inspired by a modern destroyer from Gin’s previous life. It lacked the traditional masts of the current era, relying entirely on chakra for propulsion. Its deck was equipped with multiple turrets, allowing combatants to unleash jutsu for attacking enemies.

“Gin, where exactly are you taking us?”

After finishing his exchange with Haru, Tajima approached Gin, who was still awestruck by the ship. The elder asked, his tone laced with curiosity and suspicion as he tried to read his enigmatic nephew.

“Uncle, while there’s temporary peace between the Uchiha and Senju, we can’t put all our eggs in one basket,” Gin replied. Standing at the bow of the ship, he pointed toward the horizon and explained to the pondering elders,
“In that direction lies a small island nation called the Land of Waves—a place forgotten by the nobility.”

“The Land of Waves? The island neighboring the Land of Whirlpools?”

Uchiha Haru, with his vast knowledge, quickly recalled the location and asked with visible confusion on his aged face.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“And what are we supposed to do there?”

Hearing the destination was a minor island nation, Tajima was visibly displeased. After all, he was once a major figure in the Land of Fire, commanding a significant portion of the ninja world. How could he stoop to such an insignificant place?

“To become its daimyo,” Gin declared.

“Ha! Become what? I won’t—wait, what did you say?”

Tajima was about to protest angrily when Gin’s words caught him off guard. The unfamiliar yet intriguing title made his heart skip a beat, and his tone turned hesitant.

“I said, you’re going to be the daimyo of the Land of Waves.”

The Land of Waves, situated between the Land of Fire and the Land of Water and adjacent to the Land of Whirlpools, lacked an official daimyo. Tajima’s arrival would perfectly fill that void.

“Though the Land of Waves is a crucial maritime hub for merchant ships to resupply, it has no native ninjas—only rogue ninjas and pirates running rampant,” Mio remarked, raising a logical concern. Nobles typically relied on wealth to control ninjas, who in turn secured their power. Without native ninjas, no noble would invest in the Land of Waves.

“You think I brought all these people just to give them a vacation?” Gin scoffed, rolling his eyes as he pointed to the Uchiha clansmen busy on deck.
“These are your ninja, Uncle. They’ll serve you as daimyo. Just make sure to pay their wages!”

“Pay them? With what money?”

Tajima grimaced, realizing he was now penniless after leaving everything behind. He wondered if he could just rely on his reputation, but Gin quickly burst his bubble.

“Go take a look at what they’re loading,” Gin said, gesturing toward the wooden crates.

Curious, Tajima and Mio opened a crate, only to be momentarily blinded by the dazzling gold within. Tajima, whose eyes were still adjusting to a recent transplant, was moved to tears by the overwhelming brilliance.

“Gin, where did you get so much gold?”

Even a seasoned figure like Tajima couldn’t hide his shock. His voice trembled as he asked.

“I went on a little trip to the Land of Wind and stumbled upon some ruins. There was plenty of gold inside, and I took it all,” Gin replied smoothly, crafting a flawless lie that left no room for doubt.

“With the people and the money in place, this could work. But the Land of Waves borders the Land of Whirlpools. The Uzumaki clan won’t be easy to deal with,” Tajima admitted. His initial resistance softened as he envisioned the potential of ruling the island, but the thought of the Uzumaki clan—renowned for their strength—left him uneasy. After all, his Mangekyo Sharingan had been transplanted to Madara, and his current eyes were mere replacements from Mio’s stockpile, greatly limiting his combat capabilities.

“As the saying goes, more friends mean more opportunities. I’ve already secured a route through the sea. Trust me, Uncle, once you arrive in the Land of Waves, focus on being a stable daimyo. Develop the economy, conserve your strength, and the time to act will come,” Gin reassured.

Tajima’s concerns weren’t unwarranted. Despite their recent absence in the Land of Fire, the Uzumaki clan had earned a fearsome reputation at sea, even clashing with the Land of Water and humiliating several prominent clans there.

“Is that an enemy?”

As the trio conversed, a small boat sped toward their ship from the distant sea. Tajima, sensing the presence, asked with a serious tone.

“No, it’s a friend coming to guide us. You’ll get along well in the future,” Gin replied calmly.