This time, Yagura didn't write as much.
It wasn't even as long as the previous five-year plan.
The first line outlined the central theme of this meeting. (Everyone: Wait, since when did this turn into a conference?)
The second line detailed the categorization and breakdown of D-rank mission commissions: domestic services, delivery, and logistics.
These three terms were unfamiliar to most people in the room. However, judging from their literal meaning, they could more or less grasp what they implied.
Indeed, D-rank missions could be broadly classified into these three categories.
Domestic services referred to various household chores requested by civilians.
Delivery meant getting things from one place to another as quickly as possible.
Logistics, more precisely, referred to escorting goods. Safe transport didn't require hiring shinobi, but when there were risks involved, ninja escorts became necessary.
In truth, Yagura had a more fitting term in mind, but he held back, fearing it might be too abstract for his subordinates. He would explain it later.
The third line: Computer networks, one-click ordering.
This was...
"Decentralizing D-rank commissions..."
Seeing the confused yet somewhat understanding expressions of his subordinates, Yagura paused before adjusting his phrasing to something more approachable:
"I propose restructuring most D-rank commissions into three primary categories. Of course, this is just a general framework. If any of you think it's unfeasible, feel free to raise objections."
Everyone understood. Same old routine.
After working together for months, they knew Yagura's personality well.
Sure, it was frustrating to work for a leader who only provided broad directions and left 99% of the details to them, increasing their workload.
But so far, his broad directions had never been wrong.
And more importantly—he paid well.
Each department responsible for implementation understood their role, so they had no complaints. Instead, they nodded, signaling for Yagura to continue.
Not only did they have no objections, but at this point, they were actually looking forward to seeing what new ideas he would come up with.
Having led several of these discussions, Yagura had begun mastering the art of leadership speeches.
And what was the first step of any great leadership speech?
Naturally—painting a vision!
Why hold this meeting? What impact would these reforms have if implemented?
How it would be executed? That wasn't the leader's job.
First, sell them on the vision. If they liked what they saw, they would figure out the rest themselves.
Seeing that no one objected, Yagura internally allowed himself a brief moment of symbolic guilt.
Then, he clapped his hands on the board, cleared his throat, and got to the point: "Due to the excessive volume of D-rank commissions and their limited individual value, they've placed a significant administrative burden on the Military Affairs Department. I believe it's time to change how we handle these commissions. Kirigakure should no longer accept D-rank commissions in its capacity as a shinobi village."
From the moment a commission was issued by a client, received by the village, accepted by a shinobi, completed, and then reported back—the entire process was managed by the Military Affairs Department.
It was easy to imagine just how much strain the overwhelming volume of D-rank commissions had placed on them.
Upon hearing this, the personnel from the Military Affairs Department immediately straightened their backs.
Workload reduction! Less paperwork!
Was the Mizukage really about to lighten their burden?!
And on those dreadful, soul-draining D-rank commissions no less?! They had to support this initiative!
"Besides, things like finding lost cats and dogs—do you think a shinobi's time and effort should be wasted on such tasks? You worked hard to graduate from the Academy, rising above thousands of others to become shinobi. Is this what you trained for?"
"If you have time for this, wouldn't it be better spent training and improving your skills? We raise shinobi—not babysitters."
At first, Yagura's tone was formal and diplomatic.
But as he spoke, it gradually shifted into blunt, down-to-earth language.
It was crude, but everyone present agreed with the logic.
Likewise, those who had just graduated from their genin years—Mangetsu, Zabuza, and Mei—silently nodded in agreement.
Every morning, they would arrive at the Mizukage's office and take on five or six D-rank commissions at once, running around from dawn to dusk.
By the end of the day, they felt like all their time had been wasted on trivial chores.
That time would have been better spent training and strengthening their abilities.
The personnel in the room, especially those from the Military Affairs Department who were directly involved, understood this perfectly.
But breaking away from the status quo wasn't so simple.
Even small earnings added up. If D-rank commissions were truly abandoned, the Finance Department would be the first to cause an uproar.
Elder Genshi, who oversaw finances, would never allow such a thing to happen.
That was why Yagura specifically stated that Kirigakure would no longer handle D-rank commissions as a shinobi village.
So, how would they handle them?
"A state-owned enterprise."
The same approach used by the British Empire.
This time, however, the inspiration came from nationalized enterprises—adapted for the shinobi world.
Yagura's knowledge from his past life was his greatest asset.
His goal was to transform that knowledge into tangible benefits for Kirigakure.
Twisting the chalk between his fingers, Yagura circled the three keywords on the board.
"One company for domestic services, one for deliveries, and one for logistics. These state-owned enterprises will handle D-rank commissions. They'll operate like companies, with annual profit shares distributed to the village."
"These companies can hire genin, but they can also employ civilians. D-rank commissions aren't dangerous; they don't necessarily require shinobi."
He paused before adding, "Since the end of the Bloody Mist era, the first batch of graduates who didn't qualify as genin will be finishing their schooling this June. Though they haven't officially become shinobi, they still possess solid foundational skills—enough to perform these tasks competently."
In simple terms, these reserves were highly capable workers.
For delivery services, they wouldn't even need motorcycles or electric vehicles.
These former genin candidates could simply carry the packages on foot, making for extremely efficient couriers.
It was an elegant solution.
Moreover, it addressed employment issues for graduates, reducing potential social unrest.
With even a basic level of chakra training, these individuals were physically superior to regular civilians. Left unemployed, who knew what kind of public safety problems they might cause?
While Kirigakure wasn't as aggressive as Kumogakure, Yagura had handled enough civil disputes to know that things could still get messy.
Providing jobs post-graduation would ease societal tensions.
Additionally, removing these duties from genin would free up their time and energy, allowing them to focus on training and strengthening themselves.
And at the core of it all, Yagura's ultimate goal as Mizukage—enhancing Kirigakure's military power.
By now, the entire room was buzzing.
The Finance Department had already begun calculating figures midway through the discussion.
If Kirigakure established state-owned enterprises, it would only need to fund the initial investment and appoint a capable, loyal director.
From there, the companies would sustain themselves, generating revenue and paying dividends to the village.
Yagura snapped his chalk in half, barely suppressing his excitement.
A working corporate system already existed in the shinobi world—he had seen it firsthand in the Land of Artisans.
The knowledge was there. The path was clear.
Now, it was time to walk it