Naruto: After Seclusion Becoming Naruto Grandfather

The Daimyo of the Land of Fire grinned, his bloated face twisting into a mask of smug hypocrisy.

"Sandaime," he sneered, "you've gone from a human to a ghost, and yet you still don't understand proper decorum."

The Third Hokage blinked, momentarily stunned by the insult. Subconsciously, he asked, "Don't understand decorum?"

The Daimyo's grin widened, his tone dripping with mockery. "Exactly! Decorum."

He leaned back, waving the national letter teasingly in the air.

"My decree has always been something Konoha couldn't do without. And if I just hand it over to you so easily, tell me, what will I do afterward?"

"You've got to give me proper compensation for this!"

The gathered ninjas were momentarily struck speechless by the Daimyo's shameless audacity.

Here was a man who had been ousted from power, saved only by Konoha's intervention, yet he acted as though they were the ones begging for his help.

Many clenched their fists in silent frustration. If not for the presence of the Third Hokage, this pompous fat pig would've been given a swift and painful lesson.

But the Third Hokage's perspective was entirely different.

To him, the Daimyo represented Konoha's only viable chance of rallying the ninja world against Shin-Konoha. The prestige and plight of the Daimyo of the Land of Fire could be used to unite the great nations in a collective effort to crush Uzumaki Chito.

Even a self-proclaimed "god" like Uzumaki Chito couldn't withstand the might of the united ninja world, he thought.

And with victory, the Third Hokage would solidify his place in history as Konoha's savior—a legacy etched onto the monuments for all time.

More importantly, having been resurrected in his current immortal form, the Third Hokage envisioned himself ruling Konoha indefinitely, far beyond the natural span of human life.

But for now, his power was precarious, resting entirely on his reputation and his connection to Jiraiya as the current Hokage.

So, after a moment of thought, the Third Hokage forced a humble smile and asked, "What kind of compensation are you asking for, Daimyo-sama?"

The Daimyo's face lit up with delight, his smugness reaching new heights.

Truthfully, he had been testing his boundaries, uncertain of how far he could push. He understood the precariousness of his position—alone in a village of trained killers, his life hung by a thread. A single word from the Hokage, and he could be silenced forever.

But now, the Third Hokage's willingness to entertain his demands emboldened him.

"Ah, Sandaime, you truly are an understanding Hokage!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily.

"I don't want much—just a luxury villa befitting my status, a modest number of maids, and some appropriate comforts. After all, if dignitaries from the Land of Thunder or the Land of Wind see me living in squalor, it might undermine my credibility as Daimyo."

The Daimyo's reasoning, while self-serving, was cleverly framed to appeal to Konoha's interests.

Several of the gathered ninjas, though initially furious, begrudgingly found themselves nodding along. He does have a point—his appearance needs to reflect his authority.

But then, the Daimyo took it a step too far.

"Also," he added, his tone turning lecherous as he eyed Kurenai Yuhi, "it would be wise to appoint a liaison for better communication. Perhaps... this lovely female ninja with red eyes?"

The room fell into a tense silence.

Kurenai's crimson eyes narrowed dangerously. With a flick of her hand, she nearly unleashed a devastating genjutsu technique to teach the Daimyo a humiliating lesson.

Beside her, Asuma Sarutobi's hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his chakra-infused trench knives. His expression darkened, his fury barely restrained.

If this arrogant pig doesn't shut his mouth...

But despite their seething anger, neither acted rashly. Both knew the political ramifications of attacking the Daimyo, especially under the watchful gaze of the Third Hokage.

Surely, they thought, the Third Hokage would step in and reject such an inappropriate demand.

However, what happened next stunned everyone.

The Third Hokage's translucent face grew pensive, and a thoughtful glint appeared in his eyes.

"Old man... what are you thinking?!"

Asuma's voice rang out, raw with disbelief and rage. He couldn't believe what he was seeing—the faint trace of consideration in his father's expression.

This can't be real. My own father, the man who raised me, is actually thinking of sacrificing Kurenai to appease this gluttonous fool?

His anger boiled over, and he shouted, "Father, are you seriously considering this?!"

The Third Hokage's expression hardened, his voice cold as he snapped, "Asuma! How dare you behave so disrespectfully in front of the Daimyo!"

"Apologize to him immediately!"

Asuma froze, his breath catching in his throat.

This wasn't just about the Daimyo. This was about his father—his mentor, the man he had looked up to his entire life.

And now, that man stood before him, demanding that he bow and scrape to protect the whims of a corrupt aristocrat.

Asuma's knuckles turned white as his grip on his trench knives tightened.

"No," he said quietly, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "I won't."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.

The Third Hokage's eyes narrowed, his ethereal form radiating cold fury.

"Asuma," he said slowly, his tone deadly, "do not defy me."