Naruto: Starting as the Third Hokage with Tears in His Eyes

Chapter 273 The Troubles of the Deer Antlers, The Acting Hokage on the Verge of Collapse

The warm tea soup slid down my throat, and a clear and sweet aroma quietly spread through my chest and abdomen, dispelling the last trace of fatigue from the long journey.

A gentle river breeze stirred the wisps of steam rising from the teaware on the low table.

Hiruzen Sarutobi squinted, enjoying the tranquility of this stolen half-day of leisure, feeling as if he were about to melt into this serene landscape.

Meanwhile, in Konoha Village, thousands of miles away, the Hokage's office presented a completely different scene.

There was no aroma of tea here, only an overwhelming, pungent smell of ink, mixed with the musty odor of old files and the acrid smell of burnt lamp oil, all intertwining to create an atmosphere of despair.

"Why…"

A long sigh drifted out from behind the mountain of documents that almost reached the ceiling.

Acting Naruto Nara Shikanobu felt his soul slowly leaking out from the top of his head, like a wisp of weak smoke struggling to drift towards the dazzling blue sky outside the window.

He was buried alive.

In a physical sense.

On the left is the "Final Accounting List Regarding the Distribution of Compensation for Those Killed or Wounded in This War," which is as thick as a brick.

On the right is the "Preliminary Procedure Plan for the Post-War Victory Celebration", along with an "Application Form for the Amaterasu Nine Dragons Flame Shuriken Performance" from the Uchiha clan.

Directly in front of me is a twenty-page "Celebration Banquet Menu Alternatives" from the Akimichi clan, which insanely details which year's sake should be paired with each type of grilled meat, and whether the sauce should be sweet or savory.

Nara Shika felt a throbbing sensation in his temples.

He suddenly let out a long yawn, forcing out a few drops of physiological tears from the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision.

"I...can't remember how long it's been since I last saw the cloud in my own yard."

He murmured hoarsely, the expensive wolf-hair brush in his hand feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds.

The pen tip hovered in mid-air, trembling slightly, and hesitated to fall.

Approving a twenty-page menu...

This is even more complicated than designing an encirclement to wipe out hundreds of ninjas!

trouble.

This is too much trouble!

Nara Shika let out a long, long sigh, completely giving up the fight. He slumped into the chair like a lump of mud, feeling utterly drained, both physically and mentally.

"Father."

Just then, a slightly immature but exceptionally calm and composed voice came from the office doorway.

"Um..."

Nara Deer Antlers didn't even bother to lift his eyelids, only managing to squeeze out a weak syllable from his throat as a response.

He saw his son, Nara Shikaku, carrying a light-colored wooden food box, carefully avoiding the scattered rolls on the ground as he walked in.

Shika placed the food box on a corner of the table—the only small space on the vast battlefield of the desktop that wasn't occupied by documents.

He glanced at his father's lifeless eyes and ashen face, and calmly stated a fact.

"You look somewhat listless."

"nonsense……"

Nara Shika's voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded. He had no doubt that if he looked in the mirror now, he could see three large, blood-red characters floating above his head—"I'm about to die."

Shikaku silently opened the food box and laid out the dishes one by one.

Two perfectly round rice balls garnished with black sesame seeds, a plate of golden and tempting tamagoyaki with a sweet aroma, and a small portion of braised mackerel with a rich, glistening sauce.

"My mother asked me to bring this."

Lu Jiu handed over the chopsticks and relayed the words expressionlessly: "She said that even if you're about to collapse from exhaustion, you have to fill your stomach first and die a full-bodied ghost."

"..."

Smelling the aroma of the food, Nara Deer Antlers' empty stomach let out an untimely rumble in protest.

He took the chopsticks, picked up a thick piece of tamagoyaki with trembling hands, and stuffed it whole into his mouth without regard for his image.

The sweet and soft texture and rich egg aroma exploded on his taste buds, and the warmth was like a pure chakra, which slightly revitalized his brain, which was about to completely shut down.

"Delicious..." the deer antlers mumbled in praise.

"The speed at which you process documents is not proportional to the frequency with which you complain about the hassle."

Nara Shikaku looked at the mountain of documents on the table, which had hardly diminished, and delivered a precise blow in a calm tone as if analyzing a battle report.

"Based on this pace, the probability of you going home tonight is less than 10%."

Nara Shikamaru felt the tamagoyaki in his mouth suddenly lose its sweetness.

He glared fiercely at his own son. Why did this kid have to say such unpleasant things?

But ironically, he couldn't find a single word to refute it.

"Cough cough, what do you know?"

With its neck stiffened, the deer defended its last shred of dignity, "This is called... this is called strategic delay! Yes, some things, if left aside, might never need to be resolved."

"for example?"

Nara Shikaku's counter-question was as swift as lightning.

For example...for example...

The antlers got stuck.

He sadly discovered that among these documents that could bury him alive, not a single one could be set aside!

Would you dare delay the compensation? Would you dare delay the celebration? You wouldn't even dare delay this damn menu!

Seeing his father completely lost his composure, Nara Shikaku suddenly spoke, his tone carrying a hint of academic rigor.

"Father, I've used my knowledge of logic to deduce that there are three key points in your current workflow that can be optimized. If we integrate and categorize the parallel applications submitted by different departments, and then set priorities according to three levels—urgent, important, and deferable—theoretically, we could increase your work efficiency by 7.8%."

The chewing motion of the Nara deer antlers slowly came to a stop.

He slowly, inch by inch, turned his stiff neck and stared intently at his son, who was earnestly offering his rational suggestions, with an unprecedented gaze.

"Shikaku."

"Yes."

Do you know what your father wants to do most right now?

"Based on your micro-expression analysis, pupil contraction frequency, and the tension of your masseter muscle, you probably want to find a place to lie down immediately and stare blankly at the clouds in the sky."

"No."

Nara Shika shook his head.

He put down his chopsticks, leaned forward, and spoke slowly and deliberately in an extremely dangerous, deep voice that seemed to come from the depths of hell.

"I—want—to—hang—you—on the Hokage Rock, and make you loudly recite the Konoha Village Labor Law, enacted by the Hokage, in front of the entire village, young and old!"

Nara Shikaku: "..."

He was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly.

Right.

If you only consider the efficiency of the machine and don't consider the people who operate it, they will get tired.

This was my oversight.