Naruto: I Am Uzumaki Naruto!?

The Konoha Police Department was as busy as ever. Inside his office, Uchiha Fugaku, the head of the Uchiha clan, sat behind his desk, flipping through reports with a serious expression.

After reading for a while, his brows furrowed, and he turned to the clan member standing beside him.

"So… the Uchiha clan's expenses have skyrocketed?"

Uchiha Setsuna nodded heavily. "Yes, Patriarch. Lately, everyone's been obsessed with buying a book called Taimanin. That thing is ridiculously expensive—several thousand ryo per copy."

He hesitated before adding, "Most of the clan members can't afford it, and many have been requesting salary increases."

Fugaku's frown deepened. "Taimanin? What kind of book is that?"

After a brief moment of contemplation, he sighed and nodded. "Alright, I'll approve a slight increase in mission rewards. The Uchiha still have a strong financial foundation."

---

The moment Uchiha Itachi and his younger brother, Sasuke, stepped into the police department, they immediately drew attention.

"Itachi's here!"

"What's up? You taking on another mission?"

"Haha, if it's a mission, I've got a decent one for you."

"Tch, that one's dangerous."

"Doesn't matter. Itachi's a genius—his strength is nearly at Jōnin level now. He can handle it."

The clan members spoke with admiration and pride. Itachi, after all, was the most talented Uchiha of his generation.

But the longer Itachi listened, the redder his face became.

He had just been absolutely demolished by a six-year-old boy.

"Ahem." He coughed twice to cover up his embarrassment and quickly hurried inside.

The surrounding Uchiha exchanged confused glances.

"...What was that about?"

Curious, some of them stealthily followed and pressed their ears against the office door.

---

Inside, Uchiha Fugaku looked at his son with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"Itachi, what brings you here?"

Itachi was mature for his age. He rarely came to Fugaku unless it was something serious.

Hearing his son say, "Father, I've caused trouble," only made Fugaku more surprised.

It was unusual for his son to admit to making a mistake. He was strict with himself, disciplined, and precise in everything he did.

"Speak," Fugaku instructed.

Itachi took a deep breath, then, with a flushed face, recounted everything—how Sasuke had lost a bet, how he himself had stepped in to reclaim their honor, and, ultimately, how he had suffered an even bigger loss.

Fugaku's face darkened as he listened.

His youngest son had lost eighty million ryo—and even wagered his own brother in the process.

His eye twitched.

Damn brat! Why stop at your brother!? Why not bet me while you're at it!?

His sharp gaze cut through Sasuke, who immediately shrank back, hiding behind Itachi.

Suppressing his anger, Fugaku let out a slow breath and spoke in a deep voice.

"It's fine. After all, you're still kids. Uzumaki Naruto enjoys gambling, does he? Then, Itachi, challenge him again. Win back as much as you can."

"If he refuses, we can still gather the money. Eighty million ryo… It's not impossible for the Uchiha clan to manage."

Itachi turned even redder. His head dropped lower. His next words came out barely above a whisper.

"I… already bet against Naruto again."

Fugaku narrowed his eyes. "And?"

"...And I lost one hundred and sixty million this time."

Silence.

The air inside the office grew eerily still.

Then—

"BOOM!!!"

The office doors slammed open.

A dozen eavesdropping Uchiha tumbled to the ground in a heap.

But they didn't care.

They scrambled to their feet, eyes wide with disbelief, voices rising in chaotic unison.

"Itachi, you lost one hundred and sixty million!?"

"You—what the hell were you betting on!?"

"That's more than what the Uchiha clan earns in five years!"

"Did that brat Naruto scam you!?"

"Damn it! How dare he trick an Uchiha! Does he have a death wish!?"

Fugaku ignored the uproar for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knocked on the desk sharply, restoring order with a single authoritative gesture.

His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

"Itachi," he said slowly. "Tell me exactly what you were gambling on."

His son's face burned with shame. His head dipped lower.

"...Kunai throwing."

Another moment of silence.

"...What?"

Fugaku blinked. Surely, he had misheard.

Itachi clenched his fists and repeated, "We… compared kunai throwing."

Fugaku: "..."

The surrounding Uchiha: "..."

It was as if time had frozen.

Kunai throwing?

Kunai throwing!?

An Uchiha—a Sharingan-wielding, kunai-throwing prodigy—lost a bet in kunai throwing against a kid who had only recently stopped being the village pariah?

The clan members exchanged stunned glances, all of them struggling to process what they had just heard.

Finally, one of them broke the silence.

"Itachi… are you joking?"

Because surely, this was some kind of mistake.

The Uchiha were renowned for their Fire Release, their Sharingan, and—most importantly—their absolute dominance in the art of kunai throwing.

That was like saying a Hyūga lost in taijutsu.

Or that Kakashi somehow forgot how to read Icha Icha Paradise.

It simply did not happen!

Yet here Itachi was, standing in front of them, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Uchiha Fugaku took a slow, deep breath.

"...Get out."

Itachi flinched. "Father, I—"

"GET. OUT."

Itachi wisely grabbed Sasuke and bolted.

As soon as they were gone, Fugaku buried his face in his hands.

"...I can't believe this."

One of the Uchiha clan elders, still in shock, muttered, "Should we… should we sell some land?"

Fugaku groaned. "At this rate, we might have to sell the entire Uchiha compound."

Meanwhile…

At Ichiraku Ramen, Naruto sat back in his chair with a grin, flipping through a crisp new book.

He glanced at the title.

—Taimanin: Collector's Edition—

"Heh. Not bad."

Slurping up the last of his ramen, he chuckled to himself.

"Man, I should bet with the Uchiha more often."