Uchiha Kei: Game Dev in the Shinobi World

In Sunagakure, the Third Kazekage stared silently at the intelligence report in his hands.

After a long while, he summoned Rasa and ordered him to organize another diplomatic mission to Konoha. Their goal: to negotiate the import of the new game, *Ultimate Storm*.

Rasa agreed at once, but hesitated a moment before asking, "Kazekage-sama, what price must we pay this time? Are we... opening up the Wind Country's markets even further to Konoha?"

Over the past few months, sharp minds had already noticed the impact of Konoha's Game Guild opening arcades across the Wind Country. It had created countless jobs, solved unemployment for both Sunagakure shinobi and civilians, and spurred unprecedented economic growth.

But people like the Third Kazekage had begun to see the downside.

Not because he had some great insight—but because he'd felt it firsthand. Lately, whenever he tried to exercise his authority, he found himself blocked at every turn.

Shinobi who had benefited from working at the Konoha Game Guild were no longer motivated to take on missions. After all, the jobs at the guild were easier and paid better. It was practically a vote with their feet.

Even the shinobi clans weren't immune. Following Uchiha Kei's orders, the guild had cleverly established commercial ties with these clans, offering profits that seemed insignificant to Konoha but were unimaginable to Sunagakure's provincial elites.

Now, these clans cared more about collaborating with the guild than fulfilling missions from their own village.

When Konoha reduced its mission intake and distributed them among other nations, Sunagakure received more assignments—but their pool of active shinobi had dwindled.

Worse, when the Kazekage tried to reassert his authority and distribute missions directly, he met passive resistance from both commoners and clans alike.

They didn't outright refuse. They just made excuses: illness, family matters, breakthrough training periods, even claiming it was their... time of the month. And not just the kunoichi—male shinobi too. The Kazekage felt like he was being made a fool of.

But there was nothing he could do. Force them, and they'd still go—but carelessly, as if their minds were elsewhere.

Mission completion rates dropped. It was maddening.

To make matters worse, the nobles of the Wind Country had been thoroughly bought out by the Konoha Game Guild.

While Sunagakure's partnership with the guild had been mostly surface-level, the nobles—who controlled the lion's share of resources—were deeply entangled.

In just a few months, Konoha had recruited top talent from the Fire Country, deployed them strategically, and formed lucrative ties with influential merchants and aristocrats.

Markets everywhere had become open fields for the guild's unchecked expansion. As a result, nobles and daimyo alike pressured Sunagakure to cooperate and not obstruct the guild's operations.

The Kazekage wanted to curse out loud.

This stark reality made him realize: Konoha's "generosity" came with strings. They'd acquired everything they ever wanted—and more—while subtly tightening their grip on Sunagakure.

It was terrifying.

And the worst part? The Kazekage had no counterstrategy. He felt trapped in a cage—every move was wrong.

Compared to politics, shinobi were far better at battle. This sort of economic infiltration was simply beyond them.

Even on Earth, with a weak domestic economy and an irreplaceable influx of foreign goods, few nations could resist such tactics. All you could do was watch your country get consumed. Those who understood the danger were left impotently raging.

Some even gave up entirely, choosing to lie flat and play along.

That was where the Kazekage now stood. And Rasa—first in line to inherit the title due to Sasori's defection—understood this grim truth too.

Both men, who had dedicated their lives to Sunagakure, could not bear to see the Wind Country fall into Konoha's hands, nor see their own authority eroded.

If they could, they'd eject the Konoha Game Guild altogether.

But that was impossible. The guild had entrenched itself too deeply. The Kazekage had even tried to consult with clan elders—only to be harshly rebuked.

To the impoverished Sunagakure, the wealth brought by the guild was simply too tempting. It was a classic case of: "I wanted to refuse Konoha with righteous fury, but they gave us too much."

The Kazekage and Rasa both now felt surrounded by traitors—not rebels, just those who opposed their stance on the guild.

That's why Rasa had asked about "the market." It was a concept he'd only recently learned through dealing with the guild.

The Kazekage sighed. "There's nothing we can do. We have nothing. If we want something, we must pay a price."

"You've read the report on *Ultimate Storm*. You should understand what it means to us. Sure, we could refuse the game. But when every other village accepts it, we'll fall behind."

"And in a future Great Ninja War, that would cost us dearly."

Rasa fell silent. Then he nodded. "Understood. Leave it to me, Kazekage-sama."

The Kazekage nodded with satisfaction. He'd always thought Rasa was capable, but now he saw him as a godsend—a rare youth who upheld the ideals of the Wind and had not succumbed to greed.

A worthy successor.

He planned to pass the mantle of Kazekage to Rasa one day.

Of course, Rasa had no idea he was being groomed as the ultimate workhorse for the village. He did dream of becoming Kazekage—but in his own time.

Maybe that was why he already carried the "protagonist's burden," worrying about Sunagakure's fate and visualizing himself solving its problems.

He was anxious, unsure how to fix anything.

By contrast, the Kazekage was calm. "Don't fret too much, Rasa. Yes, Konoha's tactics are devious. But they've lost their way."

Rasa blinked. "Kazekage-sama... what do you mean?"

The Kazekage smirked. "They've forsaken the path of the shinobi. Prioritizing profits over missions, turning into a commercial city—this will be their undoing."

"It might earn them quick gains, but it's unsustainable. When the next war comes, the other villages will pounce like bloodthirsty beasts. And Konoha, having lost its foundation, will be defenseless."

"We may lose now, but we'll take it all back—tenfold!"

As he spoke, the Kazekage's confidence surged. He envisioned the fall of Konoha—its wealth devoured by the hungry nations of the shinobi world.

His words roused Rasa's spirits. Yes, this was the way things worked in the shinobi world.

So Rasa departed with his delegation.

And they weren't alone. Missions from all the other major and minor shinobi villages were also en route—to negotiate for *Ultimate Storm*.

They all believed: once war broke out, Konoha would be an easy target.

Sure, the game came from Konoha. Sure, it proved their strength.

But even Konoha couldn't take on four great villages at once.

And once it fell—its riches would be theirs.

So yes, they'd pay the price for *Ultimate Storm*. Because soon, they'd take back even more.

But when the delegations arrived and saw Konoha, their assumptions were shaken.

The village had transformed—prosperous, bustling, nearly unrecognizable. Representatives from every shinobi village were stunned, their confidence in their predictions shaken.

Was Konoha really going to collapse under its own indulgence and luxury?

The splendor before them felt more like stepping from a rural backwater into a hyper-modern metropolis. The gap was overwhelming.

Konoha's old districts remained, but the newly constructed zones were filled with modern residential blocks and industrial workshops.

Even Boruto proved the shinobi world's tech level was absurdly advanced. When Konoha devoted its resources and manpower to construction, it replicated "Shenzhen speed" with terrifying efficiency.

Now, skyscrapers like the ones seen only in the Boruto era were already under construction—a full district of them.

Completed towers stood tall. Others were halfway there. The sight left the visiting delegates speechless.

Sure, places like Amegakure had cyberpunk aesthetics, but those were built over decades, often repurposing ancient legacies.

Konoha, however, had achieved this leap in mere months. For leaders like Rasa, who had only visited a short while ago, the change was staggering.

The dissonance shook their beliefs.

But then came their reception—and the doubts faded.

Konoha's hosts were gaudy, greedy, and openly soliciting bribes.

Yes. Bribes.

The Konoha shinobi tasked with receiving them actually asked for bribes. It nearly fried Rasa's brain.

They'd never experienced this. Sure, bribery wasn't rare in dealings among nobles, daimyo, or merchants, but among pure-blooded shinobi? Unheard of.

Ninjas preferred to let strength speak.

Perhaps the shinobi system hadn't been around long enough—barely a few decades and frequently interrupted by wars. Maybe with prolonged peace, these things naturally crept in.

Still, to be hit with such blatant corruption was eye-opening.

Inside the embassy, Rasa sat across from Sarutobi Suimoku, a grinning Konoha shinobi. He didn't know what to say.

In the end, Rasa silently took out his wallet and placed a wad of ryo—about ten thousand—on the table.

The smile vanished from Suimoku's face.

Lighting a cigarette, he exhaled a thick cloud right into Rasa's face.

Rasa coughed violently.

Before he could get angry, Suimoku spoke words that froze him solid.

"Well then, Lord Rasa. I suppose Sunagakure isn't interested in the uncut version of Ultimate Storm, huh? In that case, enjoy your stay in Konoha."

He stood to leave.

Rasa was stunned. The implication hit hard. And with Suimoku about to walk out, Rasa acted on reflex—he called out to him and quickly apologized.

He had no choice. No matter how furious or humiliated he felt, he couldn't afford for the negotiations to fail.