Days later, the Land of Iron, thousands of miles away, learned of this and felt a sense of crisis.
Their status was in jeopardy.
Unfortunately, Konoha Village was thousands of miles away, their reach did not extend that far.
Fortunately, this rise of private ninja tool shops only occurred in Konoha.
The other nations still needed to purchase their ninja tools from the Land of Iron.
Time flew by.
Demand for ninja tools in Konoha’s market hit saturation.
It took Kakuzu ages to recoup his investment in the factory, and just as profits began trickling in, the local market dried up.
Unless war broke out and devoured tools by the crate, Konoha shinobi wouldn’t buy another shuriken.
He turned his gaze outward.
His tools matched the Land of Iron’s quality yet undercut them on price.
They’d sell like hotcakes in other villages.
He filed an export application with the Hokage.
The First Hokage didn’t bat an eye after reading it.
Tailed Beasts were far more terrifying than mere ninja tools, yet Hashirama gave those away for free.
Compared to that, approving tool exports was trivial.
Tobirama rushed to the Hokage Office the moment he heard, but he was too late, Hashirama had already dispatched a courier with the approval.
Fortunately, Tobirama knew the Flying Thunder God.
He intercepted the messenger mid-route.
“I’ll deliver this.
You can go back.”
After dismissing the courier, Tobirama found Kakuzu personally and thrust the document into his hand.
“To think such a trivial matter required your personal attention,” Kakuzu said, feigning surprise.
He knew exactly what Tobirama suspected: ulterior motives.
“I’m not opposed to you exporting tools,” Tobirama stated, “but Konoha’s needs come first.
Only the surplus goes abroad.”
Kakuzu lifted the folder.
“Of course.
I made that clear in the application.
Did you not read it?”
Tobirama narrowed his eyes.
“I naturally wouldn’t peek at your documents.”
‘Tch, who would believe that!’ Kakuzu scoffed internally.
“Additionally,” Tobirama continued, “specialty items like Explosive Shuriken need restrictions.
Beyond prioritizing Konoha, you must limit export volumes.”
“Explosive Shuriken require my personal craftsmanship, so production is inherently capped.
Large-scale export is impossible anyway.
Rest easy on that front,” Kakuzu replied.
“Still, I expected an outright ban, not just a restriction.”
Tobirama chuckled at that.
“If I had banned them outright, would you have agreed?”
“Yes.” Kakuzu nodded.
“Would you smuggle them?”
“Definitely.” Kakuzu nodded again. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
A verbal ban meant nothing.
Besides, as Konoha shinobi completed more missions abroad, Explosive Shuriken were already gaining notoriety.
No matter how effective the tool, the real factor remained the shinobi wielding it.
“You truly value money over your life,” Tobirama muttered.
But this was fine, it made them easier to control.
The worst were those who refused to listen to reason, they had to be eliminated.
Kakuzu smiled.
“I’m no longer a shinobi.
I’m a merchant.”
What was so great about being a shinobi?
Living by the blade every day with no guarantee of decent pay.
Kakuzu already had plans for the future.
He was no hot-blooded protagonist with no intention of improving himself through constant fighting.
As the saying goes, “Knowledge is cheap, but combat training is expensive.” To grow stronger, he needed to make enough money first.
In this era, with the war just ended, everything needed rebuilding, and making a fortune was easiest.
Standing at the forefront of the times, even a pig could fly.
Let alone someone like Kakuzu, who carried the wisdom of a past life.
After watching Tobirama leave, Kakuzu brushed the dust off his clothes.
“I should train some talent.”
One person’s power to save others was limited.
He needed the strength of others to help him.
He had already found a candidate, the most famous scientist in the Naruto-verse, Orochimaru.
In the story of the Naruto-verse, some believed in bloodlines, some in spirit, some in the body, and some in eyes.
Some believed in innate inheritance, others in acquired effort.
Only Orochimaru believed in science.
Such an independent thinker, yet unfortunately born in wartime, which doomed the first half of his life to tragedy.
Fortunately, he pulled back from the brink in the end and lived a long life.
Orochimaru’s entire life story need not be repeated here, because Orochimaru was only three years old right now.
Moreover, with Kakuzu’s intervention, Orochimaru’s fate would change along with it.
Orochimaru’s parents were still alive, ordinary shinobi in Konoha.
His mother was skilled in Earth Release and made molds at Kakuzu Factory.
His father came to visit once, his pale skin made Kakuzu think of Orochimaru.
After a little investigation, sure enough, they had a son named Orochimaru.
Although Kakuzu was eager for talent, he didn’t make a move right away despite having discovered Orochimaru long ago.
Only after about a month did he set up a training class under the guise of developing talent, welcoming the employees children to come and learn.
Kakuzu knew there were spies planted by Tobirama inside the factory.
So the training class didn’t teach anything about shinobi or ninjutsu.
It only taught knowledge, knowledge that even ordinary people could learn and apply.
As expected, this training class prompted Orochimaru’s parents to bring Orochimaru over.
They had initially planned to send Orochimaru to the Ninja Academy next year.
But since a small training class had opened at the factory, letting their son learn more was a good thing.
Besides, Orochimaru had nothing to do staying home alone all day anyway.
“Children, repeat after me: one times one is one, one times two is two…”
The world at its core was made up of math, physics and chemistry.
Kakuzu started by teaching the multiplication table, something incredibly simple to adults. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
But the students in the small training class were as young as three and no older than six.
Even a mere multiplication table was very difficult for them.
There was one exception, and that was Orochimaru.
Although Orochimaru was only three, there were future examples like Kakashi graduating at five and Itachi heading to the battlefield at four.
Orochimaru himself was a prodigy, displaying intelligence surpassing his peers at the mere age of three.
“Orochimaru, why aren’t you reciting the multiplication table with everyone else?” Kakuzu asked.
Even though Orochimaru was a renowned scientist in the canon, without the right development, the potential to become a scientist could still be ruined.
“Because it’s too easy.” Orochimaru’s high pitched voice rang out.
Some of his pronunciation was even a bit slurred, he was, after all, a three-year-old child.
“Orochimaru, you’re bragging again,” a white-haired child piped up in a childish voice.
“Let me ask you, what’s nine times nine?” Kakuzu raised an eyebrow.
Who was this boy?
He was only a few years old, yet his head was full of white hair.
Looking closely he realized, ‘Oh, this was Jiraiya!’
“Eighty-one,” Orochimaru said confidently.
He had spent three minutes reciting the entire multiplication table, his tone steady, confident in his own abilities.
The class stared in stunned silence.
Most looked at Orochimaru with admiration.
Basking in the center of attention, Orochimaru smirked, enjoying the feeling immensely.
Kakuzu found himself speechless as Orochimaru showed off before the entire class.
At three years old, he had still been babbling.
The Naruto-verse truly bred prodigies.
*Cough.* Kakuzu cleared his throat lightly, drawing the children’s attention back to him.
“Orochimaru did an excellent job.
I’m giving these teaching materials to you.
Everyone should learn from him.”
He resumed the lesson.
Orochimaru watched Kakuzu, then lowered his gaze to the few sheets of paper in his hands.
This was the elementary and middle school math knowledge Kakuzu had painstakingly recalled over the past month, enough for Orochimaru to teach himself for a while.
Children naturally loved to play and hated to study.
In anyone else’s hands, these materials would probably be tossed into a corner and forgotten in no time.
Orochimaru was different.
He read with great relish.
Seeing Orochimaru absorbed in his studies, Kakuzu breathed a sigh of relief and resumed teaching.
Occasionally, factory workers walked by, pausing at the training class window to watch for a moment before moving on.
“Lord Tobirama, the knowledge taught in the training class does not involve shinobi or ninjutsu at all.”
That night, inside the Senju Clan Compound, a worker from Kakuzu Factory reported to Tobirama.
“Mm, keep watching.” Tobirama waved the man off and frowned.
‘Are you really just trying to teach them some common sense?
You’re getting harder to read, Teuchi…’
Although Teuchi looked harmless, he could not let his guard down.
The last time he lowered his guard, the man came up with an explosive shuriken.
If he let his guard down again, who knows what kind of chaos he would create?
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