Chapter 50: Perhaps He Burned His Hand

On the streets of Konoha, Hui wore the Military Police Force's uniform as he strolled through the crowd. Facing various strange looks and hushed discussions, he suppressed the anger in his heart and expressionlessly headed toward a salt shop.

It was truly impressive that Uncle Hachi could ignore the gossip of these people.

He sighed inwardly, then entered the salt shop.

Everyone in the shop recognized that familiar face and their expressions changed at once; someone immediately headed toward the back.

Hui casually glanced around without stopping them. In a moment, the shop owner hurried over—it was Kamimura Takeshi.

"Lord Hui, may I ask what brings you to my humble shop today? I will certainly cooperate."

Kamimura Takeshi wiped the sweat from his forehead and said in a low voice.

Hui looked at him with some puzzlement; he remembered that he had not mentioned his name yesterday.

"No need to be nervous. The spy hasn't been caught yet. I'm only here today for a routine inspection. Oh, and here is your ledger."

"Thank you for bringing it in person, hehe. Quick, quick, please, Lord Hui—everyone move aside, don't get in the way of the Lord's inspection."

Though Kamimura Takeshi was already in his thirties, facing a ninja ten years his junior, he still dared not show the slightest dissatisfaction.

Hui casually scanned the room and said, "There are indeed no traces of a spy in the shop."

Kamimura Takeshi breathed a sigh of relief at these words, but before he could express his thanks, he heard the other continue: "Though the people in your shop aren't spies, who can guarantee that a spy won't blend in among the villagers coming to buy salt?

If the people here have had contact with a spy, then I'm afraid I'll have to..."

The words were left unfinished, but Kamimura Takeshi's face had already turned ashen. Wasn't this obviously targeting him? However, having been in business for years, he had his own understanding of such things. Rather than talking back, he forced a smile and said, "Lord Hui speaks the truth. Might I borrow a moment to speak privately?"

Kamimura Takeshi raised his hand to indicate they should head toward the back. Hui nodded and stepped forward, only to see the man produce a wooden box and say, "I left in a hurry yesterday and accidentally took this item by mistake. Please, Lord, help me take it back."

Hui raised an eyebrow. Yesterday the man had been brought back under his control—how could he have taken the wrong thing?

He took the box and his expression changed, his gaze drifting unnaturally toward the shop entrance.

"Uh, hmm, I'll take it back with me. You should keep an eye on the villagers coming and going—don't let spies slip in."

After saying this, he stowed the item away. His hands had nowhere to rest, so he simply clasped them behind his back and left the salt shop.

Kamimura Takeshi maintained his apologetic smile all the way until Hui left, then returned to the shop with complicated feelings.

Hui walked along the street, feeling that everyone's gazes seemed even more piercing, making his whole body uncomfortable. He had no choice but to quicken his pace toward the next shop.

He spent the entire day moving among the salt merchants' shops, then, to avoid causing a disturbance, took away the outer-ring grain merchants in batches.

"I can't take it anymore, Lord Yi. This feels a bit weird—it's not the same feeling as when I collect mission pay!

Those villagers were staring at me, right? I didn't act strangely, did I?

They gave me these things of their own accord—I didn't force them!"

With a thud, Hui set eight boxes down on the desk. Looking at Sima Yi, he was somewhat incoherent, pacing constantly back and forth in the study and talking to himself.

Sima Yi sipped his tea. Seeing Hui pacing restlessly without settling down, he felt somewhat helpless. After a long while, he finally spoke: "Look at the bigger picture. This is simply protection money they're giving to the Military Police Force. Konoha is stable, so they can do business with peace of mind. This is all for Konoha, for them."

"Huh?"

Hui stopped, looking at Sima Yi in astonishment, and couldn't help sighing: "Lord Yi, it seems I still haven't fully grasped what you taught me."

"Hahaha, I'll take that as a compliment. Go ahead and open them—see what you collected today."

Sima Yi chuckled, unbothered, and pointed at the boxes to indicate. Hui pondered for a moment, rubbed his hands together, and still couldn't resist stepping forward to open them one by one.

"Three hundred thousand, four hundred thousand, three hundred and fifty thousand..."

Eight boxes, totaling three million ryō—roughly half a month's income for each of them.

Looking at the thick stack of bills, Hui couldn't help but inhale sharply. "These people are really generous—three million ryō in a single day. If I went once every day, that'd be ninety million ryō a month!

That's far more than last year's budget allocated to the Military Police Force! Hehehe, with this kind of money, why do we still have to take that crap from the higher-ups? Let's just train more ninja and stage a rebellion!"

Sima Yi laughed at this: "Ninety million ryō? You sure dare to dream. You'd only get that much if you confiscated everything they own."

Hui chuckled, stroked the bills, and said: "I get it—steady and sustainable, right? If they can't give ninety million, nine hundred thousand is fine too."

Sima Yi nodded. "Three times should be the limit. After that, wait for them to bring it up themselves."

This kind of wealth was ultimately unsustainable, and Sima Yi didn't particularly care about the nine hundred thousand ryō either. He pushed the boxes toward Hui. "Take this money."

"For me?"

Hui froze. As a jōnin of the Uchiha clan, a bona fide elite of Konoha, if he were let loose to take on missions, three million ryō was no problem at all for him.

But this money was different. One was compensation earned through life-and-death combat; the other was handed over by others during a street patrol.

"Not for you—for the Military Police Force.

Observe carefully within the Military Police Force. See which families are having difficulties. Even if there aren't any, you can usually invite people out for drinks and make some friends..."

Before he could finish, Hui already understood Sima Yi's intent. He cheerfully pocketed the money and said, "That's right—this is all for the Uchiha, for Konoha!"

Knock knock knock—"Grandpa, I'm back."

Startled! Hui had just stacked the money into a pile and was about to put it away when Shisui's knocking came from outside the door.

Sima Yi wore a smile, happily watching Hui's flustered antics, and said softly, "Come in, Shisui. Hui happens to be here too."

Shisui pushed the door open and entered, only to see Hui rubbing his chest with one hand while the other groped along the desk, seemingly searching for something.

"Brother Hui, what's wrong with you?"

"Huh? Me? Nothing. I just came to ask Uncle Yi if he wanted to go out for drinks. Since he's not going, never mind—I'll head to the Military Police Force and get barbecue with everyone."

As he spoke, Hui seemed to just remember Shisui and asked, "Shisui, do you want to come along for barbecue?"

"No thanks, Brother Hui. I just had grilled fish."

"Oh, alright. Then I'll be going first."

Shisui looked suspiciously at the flustered, departing Hui and couldn't help asking, "What's wrong with him?"

Sima Yi smiled, picked up his teacup, and replied, "Perhaps he burned his hand."

Shisui nodded, suspecting nothing and not pressing further. He closed the door and said with a serious expression, "Grandpa, the higher-ups have made another move. When I was coming back today, I did some asking around—that incident of the drunken ninja conflict has spread throughout all of Konoha. The villagers are all criticizing the Military Police Force for inaction!"

Sima Yi's expression remained calm as he asked without batting an eye, "What do you make of this?"

"Grandpa, you taught me to analyze cause and effect through interests. This kind of despicable act is just like the old incident with White Fang—it must be the Third's doing!"

(End of this chapter)