Shikaku melancholily scrolled several lines onto his notepad, simple observations about the layout of the map and the placements of clan territories. He was primarily concerned with appearing to be preoccupied with his scribbles, a classic Nara misdirection technique, while his more analytical side of his mind was focused on Danzō's words and maintaining the subtle mental channel with his teammates. Chōza, the master of playing dumb when politics were concerned, deliberately exaggerated a look of confusion, as if the complexities of meeting discussions were beyond him. Inoichi, however, was having the hardest time. His Yamanaka clan technique required immense focus to keep the mental connection open and secret while keeping a neutral, passive expression on his face. The strain showed faintly around the man's eyes, but he was perpusly hiding behind Chōza’s large frame.

  Danzō finished polishing his previous target and pivoted his attention, the focus of his cold gaze landing squarely on Shikaku. “Nara,” he began, his voice flat. “During the recent attack, a few nonessential buildings, along with certain agricultural areas, were destroyed near your clan’s primary compound. Is your clan capable of incorporating this section into your territory?” Danzō gestured with a long, thin pointer to a detailed map of the village spread across the meeting table, indicating a substantial, newly vacant patch of forest and farmland.

  Shikaku paused, offering a thoughtful nod. “Of course, if it’s for the sake of the Leaf Village’s stability, my family is ready to put in the necessary extra effort to cultivate and secure the land immediately.” He kept his tone cooperative, almost docile.

  “Hmm. That is acceptable. However, this constitutes a rather large increase in the territory granted to your clan,” Danzō continued, his gaze unwavering. “In an attempt to maintain an appearance of fairness, the village will ask your clan to withdraw some of your claims on the edges of the main market district. I do not wish to give the impression that the village leadership is playing favorites with certain powerful clans.”

  Shikaku barely suppressed a slow, rising irritation. “It will certainly be a difficult organizational change for our clan, but we can begin reviewing the documentation to detail precisely which market properties will exchange hands.” He managed to deliver the acceptance without betraying the slightest hint of displeasure. Danzō’s attempt was transparently corrupt to half the experienced shinobi in the room, and deeply suspicious to the rest.

  The delicate balance of the Nara clan’s property holdings was crucial to their stability. Their territory was not merely land; it was the sacred forest where they raised their unique breed of deer, whose shed antlers were essential ingredients in a variety of complex medicinal treatments. They would harvest these materials, process them, and then sell the finished goods through their storefronts located directly in the market district. Danzō was not just taking land; he was attempting to diminish the critical cash flow of the Nara clan, knowing full well that a loyalist ally of his would undoubtedly take over the market property at a substantially reduced rate.

  “Which of the Minor Clans do you think is going to receive the prize?” Inoichi’s voice, filtered through the Shintenshin connection, was sharp with inquiry in Shikaku’s mind.

  “I doubt even Danzō himself knows the final recipient yet; he was almost certainly expecting me to object immediately and fight him on the issue,” Shikaku mentally transmitted back. “He is probably scrolling through a list of potential beneficiaries in his head right now.”

  “Is this going to damage your clan’s bottom line significantly?” Chōza added, his thought voice still sounding mildly annoyed about the chip situation.

  “Not too badly, ironically. We have been struggling with low supply ourselves,” Shikaku explained. “Between the demands of the last war, the recent Nine-Tails attack, and the ongoing recovery efforts, we were already considering cutting back on utilizing the ingredients ourselves in favor of saving them for village reserves. We can always negotiate a favorable distribution contract with the new clan taking over our shops, or failing that, locate different business partners. The short-term reality is that we will have to diminish the total amount we sell publicly for a time, ensuring that we only use what we manage to harvest for our own internal benefit.”

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  “Chōza,” Danzō said, smoothly transitioning, barely waiting for the Nara discussion to conclude. “I noticed that your family’s many establishments went relatively unharmed during the attack. You must have felt relieved?”

  Chōza puffed his chest slightly, his disappointment over the chips momentarily forgotten. “Yep. Except for a single collapsed wall at our southern branch, the vast majority of our restaurants sustained only minor damage. All of them were fully back in order and operational just three days after the attack.” A look of genuine pride spread across his face.

  “That is certainly commendable resilience,” Danzō acknowledged, though his tone suggested otherwise. “Not only that, I have observed that the consumer prices at your establishments have increased noticeably.”

  “Only marginally, for the most part,” Chōza corrected quickly. “They largely stayed the same. There was an initial surge in spending and eating out for various reasons, but that demand has since returned to a more consistent level, closer to what it was before the war began. The prices reflect stability and high quality, not inflation.”

  “Yes, however, the current pricing structure is a matter of concern for the village elders,” Danzō countered, leaning forward with the air of a concerned bureaucrat. “Is there nothing you can do to help relieve the financial strain on the common citizens? Perhaps providing cheaper, more easily mass-produced alternatives?”

  Chōza shifted uncomfortably. “I thought the overarching goal was to project stability and get things back to normal? Changing up our established menu, which relies on high-quality meats, would require a significant, disruptive change in our supply chain and distributors.”

  “There are a few newer farms closer to the Land of Tea that have seen a sizable increase in their soybean production,” Danzō pushed, ignoring the logic. “Providing more tofu-based options would allow more common citizens to dine in your establishments without impacting your profit margins.”

  Chōza looked aghast. “The majority of our signature dishes are focused on perfectly cooked steak and classic barbecue restaurants. Tofu would not mesh well with the established experience our business already provides. It would look desperate.”

  “Also,” Inoichi suddenly interjected, his voice now projecting clearly into the room, abandoning the silent communication. “Aren’t we trying to show national strength right now? Watching a bunch of Akimichi eating tiny cubes of bland tofu doesn’t give off the same powerful intimidation as seeing them rip into a bloody, glorious steak.”

  “And regarding those farms near the Land of Tea,” Shikaku added, his voice following immediately behind Inoichi’s, “aren’t we trying to circulate the village’s economy by supporting our internal distributors right now? I was operating on the logic that internal meant inside the village, not the land of fire.”

  Danzō was momentarily thrown, visibly taken aback by the three-pointed, back-to-back responses that had completely dismantled his suggestion. He composed himself quickly. “It was only a simple suggestion, designed to help lift our more financially struggling villagers. I merely hope that you would take my advice under consideration.”

  “He got overconfident because Nara capitulated too fast on his own issue,” Chōza’s voice rang triumphantly in his teammates' minds. “Watch, I bet he doesn’t even try to go after Inoichi now.”

  “Next,” Danzō said, successfully regaining control of the room, “I would like to go over the proposed placement of the Village Police Headquarters.”

  “Called it!” Chōza's triumphant thought voice was so loud and clear in Inoichi’s and Shikaku’s minds that it was extremely difficult for both of them to keep a straight face while dealing with his childish antics.

  Danzō pointed to a section of the map far to the side, running along the village’s outer wall. “It had already been decided that relocating the main station would be the wisest, most efficient move for the village’s overall security layout.”

  “This is the first I am hearing of the matter,” Fugaku Uchiha spoke. His voice was calm, almost dangerously so. “Why was I not informed of this decision?”

  “We are informing you now, Uchiha,” Danzō replied with a chilling calm, the sharp edge of mockery clearly audible in his words. “We have selected a generously large portion of land for your facility to relocate to. It is highly defensible and private.”

  Fugaku’s gaze fixed on the map. “What is this? How are the common people supposed to come to the police for aid when we are relocated to the extreme edges of the village, so far from the rest of the populace?”

  “You do not need to concern yourself with that logistical problem,” Danzō said, his expression becoming predatory. “ANBU will be taking a more hands-on, direct approach when it comes to internal village security matters and daily patrols.”

  A tense silence fell. Fugaku slowly stood up, his posture radiating quiet power. “My people will not take kindly to this displacement.”

  Danzō paused for a long, calculated moment, locking eyes with Fugaku Uchiha across the table. “Do not worry,” he concluded, a thin, cruel smile touching his lips. “I am entirely confident ANBU and my Root program can easily make up for the Uchiha’s absence.”