"Puuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu—why time, ninja?"
"Remember, the future belongs to electricity. Refrigerators, televisions, computers, trams… everything will run on it."
"Alright, I've given you all the information. Study it, think it through, draft a plan, calculate the budget, then act. Work hard, put in the effort, struggle, and succeed!"
Naruto grabbed Yakushi Kabuto for a private chat, tossing him a pile of materials. These contained detailed methods for manufacturing electrical appliances, lists of raw materials, and equipment blueprints.
Yes—Naruto's plan was for Kabuto to start producing electrical devices and open up an entirely new market in the shinobi world.
He believed Kabuto was sharp enough. As long as he provided proper support, Kabuto could rise to become a top merchant and rake in unimaginable wealth.
With people and money on his side, things would naturally move forward smoothly.
Kabuto himself felt a strange excitement stir within him. He dove into this new world wholeheartedly, determined to fight for it.
That was his nature—give him direction, and he'd throw himself into it completely.
And when he saw Yakushi Nonō with the orphans, smiling with genuine happiness, Kabuto silently vowed: he would never let the orphanage fall into poverty again.
"Damn it! Why are there so few bounty targets lately?"
In one of the black markets, Kakuzu—draped in his red-cloud Akatsuki cloak—glared at the mission board, roaring in frustration.
In just a month or two, his workload had plummeted.
So had his income.
He was furious.
Without criminals, there were no bounties. Without bounties, there was no money. And without money… his heart felt hollow, his entire being uncomfortable.
"Lord Kakuzu, recently two extremely powerful bounty hunters have appeared in the black market. They've swept the boards clean, capturing most of the targets. That's why things are like this."
"Bounty hunters? What kind of bounty hunters?"
"They're mysterious. Wearing white cloaks with the word Justice across the back, and strange animal masks. Just like… that guy."
The steward lowered his voice and pointed at a man who had just walked in.
The newcomer matched the description perfectly—white cloak, "Justice" written boldly on the back, and a dragon-headed mask covering his face. Beneath the roaring dragon design, a twisted mouth pattern gave the illusion of a sinister smile.
"Bounty target: Momojuro, a rogue Mist shinobi. Four million ryō!"
Thud!
A lifeless corpse slammed onto the counter. The dead man's dull, gray eyes stared blankly upward, making the steward flinch.
"Confirmed. Mist Shinobi Momojuro. Five percent commission deducted. Here—3.8 million ryō."
The dragon-masked man scooped up the thick bundle of cash, turned on his heel, and left swiftly.
Before walking out, he cast Kakuzu a meaningful glance.
"…Four million ryō. Impressive."
Kakuzu muttered to himself, then also left the black market.
"Two uncles, huh? Wonder who'll show up here next time…"
The steward sighed. For him, this was just another day.
By a stream in the wilderness, surrounded by bushes and soft grass, the dragon-masked man stood silently, as though waiting.
"Waiting for me?"
Kakuzu appeared across the water, only his eyes visible above his cloth mask. His voice was cold.
The dragon-masked man said nothing. He just sized Kakuzu up, as if gauging where best to strike.
"Hand over your bounties, and I might let you live," Kakuzu warned, his eyes flashing with greed. "All of it. Make it easy on yourself."
But before he could finish his seals—
Boom!
A fist slammed into his face, smashing him straight into the ground. The impact shook the stream, sending water spraying everywhere.
"Ghh—!"
Kakuzu spat blood, his mask drenched. He curled up in pain, his body half-buried in a crater like a broken eggshell.
"I hope you've got enough cash on you," the dragon-masked man said coldly. "Otherwise, your life is the price."
He stepped closer, echoing Kakuzu's earlier words with mocking precision.
"Earth Style: Earth Spear—!"
Desperate, Kakuzu lunged, driving a hardened spear of stone forward.
But the masked man caught it casually—then turned it around and drove it into Kakuzu's thigh, pinning his leg deep into the ground.
"You really don't learn. Now, hand over the money."
Kakuzu's body trembled. This opponent was overwhelming. He couldn't fight back at all.
"Fine! Fine—I'll give it! I'll hand over everything I have!"
The masked man slammed a foot into the earth.
Crack!
A second Kakuzu shot up from underground, blood spraying as one of his masks shattered.
The Kakuzu in front of the masked man burst apart—a clone.
"Yes! I'll give it all! Here, take it all!"
Now truly terrified, Kakuzu fumbled out several sealing scrolls—the total of his recent earnings, not yet deposited.
"Well, well. Over 30 million ryō. You've got a future after all."
The masked man laughed, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
"Sometimes, what you're looking for falls right into your lap. Kakuzu, was it? I look forward to our next meeting."
Still laughing, he vanished into the night, leaving Kakuzu pale and shaken.
This time, he had slammed straight into an immovable wall.
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