Chapter 47: Kamimura Takeshi

"You Uchiha can't do this! Do you know my uncle is the Minister of Finance — a minister! If you dare throw me in prison, my uncle won't let you off!"

In the Uchiha prison, Osaka Tomosuke pounded frantically at the iron cage before him, his expression vicious, no longer his former elegant composure.

And in the cells next to his, eight more merchants were locked up. Though they came from different places, they shared one thing in common: they were all salt merchants.

Some were deathly pale and at a loss, some regarded him coldly and stayed silent, some put on smiling faces and fawned obsequiously.

Hui walked past the cells one by one, watching their expressions without caring.

"So it's the Minister of Finance. If you hadn't told me, I'd have thought you were someone from the Tōnin family?"

A moment later, he turned back and stopped outside Osaka Tomosuke's cell, saying teasingly.

Osaka Tomosuke's expression faltered; he opened his mouth but made no sound.

If he actually knew anyone from the Tōnin family, he wouldn't have brought up his uncle — after all, this was Konoha, and here Tōnin's assistant was the important figure.

"You really don't know them?"

Hui was a bit disappointed, having originally hoped for a pleasant surprise. Seeing this, he could only wave his hand and say, "Forget it. Since you don't know them, then just wait here."

Saying that, he headed to the interrogation room and questioned each of them one by one alone.

"Name?"

"Kamimura Takeshi."

"Age?"

"Thirty-four."

"Shop income — how much tax paid?"

"Uh..."

Kamimura Takeshi paused, his face deathly pale, and said, "Monthly income of sixty thousand ryō, tax paid twelve thousand ryō."

"Hmm?"

Hui raised an eyebrow. With his keen senses as a ninja, he immediately noticed something off in the other's expression and snorted coldly, "Kamimura Takeshi, did you forget your account books are still with me? Besides, I'm an Uchiha!"

Under the gaze of the three-tomoe Copy Wheel Eye, Kamimura Takeshi's pupils shrank and his expression changed drastically. He immediately gave an awkward laugh and said, "Yes, I remembered wrong. It should be monthly income of six hundred thousand ryō, and tax paid should be one hundred twenty thousand ryō."

"How much?"

Hui's eyes went wide. If he recalled correctly, what these people sold had nothing to do with ninja — a jin of salt was only eighty ryō — and the other party was just a small salt merchant. How could there be that much? "No, no, no, I remembered wrong again, wrong again!"

Sensing a cold, chilling aura from Hui, Kamimura Takeshi shook his head repeatedly and corrected himself once more.

"That's what I thought."

Hui finally breathed a sigh of relief. He'd thought just anyone off the street earned more than a ninja.

"I didn't actually pay one hundred twenty thousand ryō in tax. Uh, hehe, actually I only paid thirty thousand ryō."

"..."

Hui looked at the fellow before him who was all groveling and servile, silent for a long while, then picked up pen and paper again and asked, "How many shops do you have?"

"I'm a man of modest means, just a nobody, so I only have three small shops in Konoha."

"Oh? And outside of Konoha?"

"There are a few more in the surrounding towns, but their income combined doesn't even match what's here." Kamimura Takeshi answered each question, not daring to hide anything more.

"Good. Last question — do you know any ninja in Konoha?"

Kamimura Takeshi's eyes shifted. He keenly sensed that today's interrogation might not be about spies.

He pondered for a moment, then looked up and replied, "I've had dealings with a ninja from the Finance Ministry, but I don't know his name.

We only contact each other when it's time to collect taxes. He helps cover things up for me, and I give him compensation."

"Very good. You may leave." Hui nodded, quite satisfied with the answer. He hadn't expected the very first person interrogated to meet Sima Yi's requirements.

"Yes, thank you, my lord!"

Kamimura Takeshi was overjoyed, not expecting the other to let him off so easily — but just as he was about to stand, he saw a pair of three-tomoe Copy Wheel Eyes.

When he came to his senses again, he was already back at his shop, with that confession still tucked in his arms.

Kamimura Takeshi fell into deep thought, recalling the scene he had witnessed in the illusion.

On the other side, Hui finished interrogating the remaining seven salt shop owners one by one, leaving only Osaka Tomosuke unattended.

Hui looked at the records in his hands and couldn't help feeling a bit indignant.

These salt merchants earned countless times more than he'd imagined, and each one was full of schemes. If not for the fact that he'd seized their account books in advance and had these eyes as a deterrent, he'd probably have had to use the Copy Wheel Eye to control them one by one to get them to speak the truth.

Quite a few of them had ninja clan backgrounds — Tōnin, Mitomon... but only loosely connected, to the point that even those ninja clans didn't know these fellows were making this much money.

"These salt merchants — their combined monthly income actually reaches six million ryō! No wait, that fat man hasn't been questioned yet. They all say that fat man is the big one — he alone probably earns over two million ryō."

"Damn it, I have to complete several S-rank missions to get that kind of income, and these fellows just sit there enjoying life and the money rolls into their pockets!"

Hui gnashed his teeth in anger. He flipped through these people's tax records — combined, they didn't even reach three hundred thousand ryō. And the absurd part was, the more they earned, the less they paid.

"I absolutely won't let these people off this easily!"

He slammed a fist on the desk with a heavy thud, and the wailing of Osaka Tomosuke, far off at the other end, abruptly stopped.

"Lord Ninja? Lord Uchiha! I really haven't been hiding any spies! My lord, you have to believe me, I'm innocent! My uncle is a minister!"

The wailing echoed once more through this empty prison, but Hui was nowhere to be seen.

Late at night, Hui brought the account books to Shisui's home, where Jin Huo was lying on a tree digesting his food.

"Brother Hui?"

"What are you doing up in the tree?" Hui looked at Jin Huo's bulging belly and asked curiously, "Did Shisui treat you to barbecue today? Your belly is that big?"

"Barbecue — bleh~" Jin Huo's stomach churned. He quickly clamped a hand over his mouth and pointed behind him, "Lord Yi is waiting for you in the study. Go right in."

After saying that, Jin Huo hurried away. Hui watched his retreating figure, scratching his head with a puzzled look, but couldn't be bothered to think too much about it and went straight to the study.

"Uncle Yi, I'm here."

Hui moved gently and carefully, pushing the door open and poking his head inside.

In the study, only Sima Yi was present; Hui slipped in as if he were a thief.

"Shisui is training in the back courtyard. Sit down."

Sima Yi smiled at the sight, rose and tidied the items on the desk, then asked, "Did you bring the things?"

"I brought them. Uncle Yi, these profiteers are truly despicable—they're secretly making big money!"

Hui handed several people's account books along with today's recorded revenue and tax data to Sima Yi, his face still showing indignation and a trace of anger.

Sima Yi paid that no heed. He took the data, glanced over it, then turned to the account books.

Ever since awakening the Copy Wheel Eye, his brain had undergone further enhancement—past memories grew clearer, and his calculating ability had improved greatly as well.

He casually opened two account books, his fingers counting as he calculated, and in no time arrived at the result.

"They're fake."

"What's fake?"

"These account books have been tampered with. The income and expenditures within a month don't match up—presumably they're trying to evade taxes."

"These bastards!"

(End of this chapter)