Village Management was the most offensive department within the Konoha Security Force. It was responsible for overseeing the vendors, which inevitably brought it into conflict with both the vendors themselves and the influential shinobi clans backing them.
But it wasn't just the vendors. Even the nearby residents often complained. The noise from the marketplace disturbed their rest, leading to rising tensions—and in the end, all the blame landed squarely on the village management office.
And when that office was under the authority of the Uchiha Security Force, naturally, the Uchiha bore the brunt of the villagers' resentment.
The current reorganization was only the beginning—a small test for Uchiha Naraku. In time, departments like Village Management would be split off entirely from the Security Force. Ordinary villagers would be recruited to take over these roles.
This strategy not only reduced friction with the populace but also cut costs. Rather than paying a trained chunin 400,000 ryō annually, the same job could be handled by civilians for just 100,000 ryō or less.
A secondary proposal involved the Third Squadron's ninjas recruiting villagers to assist in management tasks—paid out of the squad's own wages.
After all, the vendors were ordinary villagers. They had no chakra, no shinobi rank. It was reasonable to place them under the supervision of civilian staff.
However, since Naraku had just cut the security shinobis' salaries, tensions were already running high. Asking them to fund assistants out of their own pay could provoke outrage.
Most of the Uchiha were straightforward, not politically savvy. All they would see was: "First, you cut my salary. Now you want me to spend even more?"
Naraku worried this would spark a backlash. He needed to strengthen his control, not alienate his own forces.
For now, the Uchiha accepted the salary cuts only because of the clan head's influence. If Naraku pushed too hard too fast, he could incite rebellion within the ranks.
That was why divesting these volatile responsibilities—like village oversight—was the safest move.
Another department that needed reform was Public Security. Mediating disputes sounded noble, but it offended one side every time. No one appreciated being told they were wrong, and even the side that won never remembered.
They'd just claim they were in the right all along.
And the loser? They'd hold a grudge against the Uchiha for "siding against them."
To reduce resentment, Naraku considered opening the Public Security sector to members of other clans. That way, mediation outcomes wouldn't always be blamed on the Uchiha alone.
Even if people bore a grudge against an individual, the weight of that resentment wouldn't necessarily land on the whole Uchiha clan.
However, there were divisions Naraku would never hand over.
The Criminal Investigation Division was one of them—this was where the elite Uchiha made their names.
It was critical to keep talented Uchiha shinobi out of the frontlines of future wars. The clan needed to preserve its strength, not sacrifice it to the meat grinder of the shinobi world.
The same principle applied to Special Police and prison staffing—important, strategic, or safe positions must remain in Uchiha'siha hands.
As for jobs that involved constant contact with villagers—like basic patrols and market enforcement—those could be assigned to other clans or even civilian auxiliaries.
Naraku understood that these changes would draw criticism from within. Transferring departments away from the Uchiha Guard meant fewer jobs for Uchiha shinobis.
For now, this plan existed only in Naraku's mind. He hadn't spoken a word of it to anyone.
The key was to wait. Only once he officially became the Commander of the Konoha Security Force could he begin reshaping it through quiet, calculated authority.
The Uchiha had been comfortable le too long. Naraku believed some of them needed to integrate more into village life—to form teams, to serve Konoha in new ways.
The Security Force should be elite.
It should be open only to the strongest Uchiha, the most gifted, and those who require special care or protection.
Ordinary clansmen needed to ask themselves—Are you truly qualified to wear this uniform?
—
Inside the First Division office of the Security Force Building, Uchiha Naraku sat alone, deep in thought.
A week of reassignments had passed. Today marked the official start of the new job structure.
In the First Division's Criminal Investigation Unit, only two teams remained at their desks. The other two were out patrolling—looking for suspicious activity and ready to provide rapid response to other divisions if needed.
Meanwhile, the 4th Special Mobile Squadron had deployed two teams—one patrolling east, the other west. The remaining two were resting, prepared to mobilize during emergencies.
—
On Konoha's Third Lane, the market was bustling. Vendors called out, selling dango, ramen, yakitori, pancakes, and takoyaki.
Among them was Yamashita Matsumaru, descended from some of Konoha's earliest settlers. His family had fallen into poverty, but he had one saving grace: his skill in making delicious, sweet sanshoku dango.
At the urging of neighbours, he set up a small stall. To his surprise, his dango became a hit. He now made thousands of ryō daily and could finally smile again.
"Uh-oh! The Security Team is coming—run!"
A man selling candied apples panicked and grabbed his stick, bolting down the alley. Other vendors followed, scrambling to pack up their stalls.
But the Uchiha patrol team arrived in a blur of speed before anyone could flee far.
Vendors froze in fear. Everyone remembered the beatings and scoldings from previous patrols.
Uchiha Mokuka, 23 years old, was a Konoha chūnin and wielder of a two-tomoe Sharingan. He belonged to the Second Platoon of the First Division.
Today, his orders had changed. Street enforcement was no longer his job.
Though the patrol zone had expanded, the workload felt lighter—emotionally, at least.
In the past, patrolling streets meant constant disgusted looks, curses, and exhaustion. Mokuka often wondered why they were hated so much when all they did was serve the village.
Today, while patrolling, Mokuka saw two large men bullying a smaller boy. He stepped in with a stern rebuke, dispersing the aggressors.
The crowd watching applauded.
That startled him.
He glanced at the vendors—people he once saw as nuisances. He chose to ignore them and continued walking.
Surprised, the vendors blinked, unsure whether to stay or flee.
For once, there were no cold glares, no confrontations. Just quiet.
One old woman turned to a nearby vendor. "Did the Uchiha have a change of heart today?"
"I have no idea," the man chuckled. "But they didn't stop us. I guess we're safe."
He put his bag down and sighed in relief.
"Could this be... a trap?"
The vendors murmured, puzzled and confused.
Yamashita Matsumaru scratched his head. He had planned to flee, but now...
Maybe trumoursors were wrong, he thought. Would a real Uchiha officer go around bullying villagers?
He returned to his dango, shaking his head and smiling.
"Guess it's just another day," he whispered—and resumed cooking, the smell of sweet dumplings once again wafting through the street.