Chapter 10: Isn't It Just Sharingan? Who Doesn't Have It?
After the assessment was complete, Uchiha Ren left first.
Time was tight, and he couldn't bother chatting about trivial things with a bunch of brats.
Touching the last bit of living expenses he'd earned from the restaurant in his pocket, he headed towards the Uchiha Clan's ninja tool shop.
Speaking of the most profitable shops in Konoha,
Ranked second was Jiying Hall, which sold manga and novels.
Third was Ichiraku Ramen.
And the number one spot was consistently occupied by the ninja tool shop.
The quantity of ninja tools consumed by shinobi was immense; a single chunin would consume at least hundreds of kunai in a year.
Such a lucrative industry should logically attract a lot of people.
What was strange was that there weren't many ninja tool shops in Konoha.
Among them, the cheapest one was the Uchiha Clan's exclusive ninja tool shop.
Uchiha Ren, to practice kunai throwing, had previously spent a year's worth of living expenses buying kunai.
He was very familiar with the shop owner and had even run up a tab twice.
"Oh, it's Ren! What are you buying today?" The shop owner, named Uchiha Zong, was a big fatty, and he greeted Uchiha Ren with great enthusiasm as soon as he saw him.
He knew Uchiha Ren was an orphan, so he took great care of him.
"Boss, I don't have enough money. I promise I'll pay you back when I earn some. I want that one."
Uchiha Zong followed Uchiha Ren's finger, turned his head to look at the giant kunai hanging on the wall, and his mouth twitched twice:
"You want this? This thing is taller than you are! What do you want it for? This is a ninja tool used by the Clan's Sharingan users, specifically designed for their great swords. It's useless to you."
Just as he said this, several more customers entered the shop.
A group of six, each wearing a forehead protector.
These six first glanced at the boss, then began selecting ninja tools.
As for Uchiha Ren, no one paid attention to such a little brat.
"Boss, I want that one. Is that okay?"
"Don't cause trouble, can't you see there are so many people?"
"I'm not causing trouble. I want this one. Can I put it on tab?"
Uchiha Zong frowned, "Look at you, kid! I told you, that's a ninja tool for the Clan's Sharingan users, meant to be used with the great swords of Sharingan. What do you want it for? And put it on tab? Even if you didn't ask to put it on tab, I still couldn't sell it to you!"
He was clearly a bit annoyed by Uchiha Ren, and the six shinobi all turned their heads to look.
"Ah, I'm sorry!" Uchiha Zong quickly bowed ninety degrees.
Uchiha Ren considered it carefully for a moment, "So the reason you won't give it to me is because this thing is used with the great swords of Sharingan, not because I want to put it on tab, right?"
The boss sighed, "You kid, when you awaken your eyes, I'll even give you one for free."
Uchiha Ren slapped all his remaining money on the counter, "No need for a gift, I'll buy it."
Just as he said this, a short-haired Uchiha with no eyebrows walked up to the counter, "Brat, do you know how noisy you are? Get lost!"
Of course, Uchiha Ren wouldn't just leave. He looked at the man, then at the boss, and extended his hand, saying, "I only have this much money now. I'll pay you back in full after ten months."
"Why don't you understand what I'm saying?!" The eyebrowless Uchiha was slightly irritated. He pointed at the enlarged kunai on the wall, "This thing requires activated eyes to use, understand? Get out!"
Uchiha Ren's personality made it difficult for him to cause trouble.
But he thought carefully for a while; if he wanted to learn how to counter the Uchiha Clan's ninjutsu, it seemed he would need to find some reasons.
Like conflicts with Clan members?
Seeing that the little brat didn't move, the eyebrowless Uchiha grew angry.
"You damned brat! Do you have these eyes?!" A pair of red eyes stared intently at Uchiha Ren.
"Ah! He's just a stubborn kid!" Boss Uchiha Zong hurriedly stepped between the two, afraid that something might actually happen.
"You won't be able to possess eyes like these even if you live to be fifty! So, put away your ridiculous ideas, brat!"
"Don't let brats like him into the shop again, he's spoiling my mood!"
"Alright, alright, alright! Yes, yes! Understood, understood!"
He then looked at Uchiha Ren, "Don't force me to discipline you on behalf of your parents! Now get out!"
At this moment, a discordant voice came over.
"Oh? The eyes you said no one could possess even at fifty, are they these eyes?" He pointed at his own eyes amidst everyone's dumbfounded expressions.
In the Queen's Black Community after the rain, the air was permeated with dampness and decay.
The stagnant water on the road hadn't completely receded, reflecting the dim yellow streetlights like broken mirrors, illuminating the weariness and helplessness of this community.
The puddles were mixed with fallen leaves, trash, and some unidentifiable filth, which, under the rain's erosion, emitted a nauseating stench.
These odors, combined with the damp soil, moldy walls, and old building materials, formed a unique and unforgettable atmosphere.
Many of the buildings lining the streets had been dilapidated for a long time, their paint peeling, revealing the bricks beneath, as if years had left scars on their faces.
Some buildings had broken windows, crudely boarded up with wooden planks. Through the gaps, one could glimpse the dim, secluded rooms within, as if hiding unknown secrets.
In the corners of the community, some homeless people huddled amongst rain-soaked cardboard boxes and rags, their gazes vacant and lost, as if they had long grown accustomed to this forgotten corner of the world.
Children played happily in the puddles, their laughter echoing down the desolate street, yet it couldn't mask the bleakness and decay of this community.
Stephen Fang, walking with a bottle of ice-cold Coca-Cola, scoffed disdainfully at the group of black gang members lounging around.
Who said the moon here was rounder?
It's the same here!
He walked past a gun store and arrived at the Chinese supermarket next door.
As soon as he entered the supermarket, the shop owner, Aunt Li, greeted him.
"Little Fang, have you found a job yet?"
"Sigh, don't even mention it! The burger joint's kitchen doesn't want me anymore either. A new 'immigrant' came, and they only need food and lodging, no salary. How can I compete with that?"
"Oh, that's how we Chinese are," Aunt Li smiled bitterly. "How about this? After my niece leaves in a couple of days, you can temporarily stay upstairs."
"That won't do." Stephen Fang immediately shook his head. "I've already stayed for quite a while before. Don't worry about me, I can manage."
"Alright then, see what you want to eat, Auntie's treating."
"Then I'll go grab some dumplings!"
"You kid..."
While the two were chatting, three black men pushed the door open and entered.
These men looked around the room, especially at the surveillance cameras, deliberately pulling their hat brims lower.
Their demeanor immediately told anyone with eyes what they were about to do.
Anyone who could open a supermarket in a black community didn't have bad eyesight.
Aunt Li immediately reached to press the alarm button.
"Don't move!"
A black muzzle was pointed at Aunt Li behind the counter, "If you dare move—"
The man hadn't even finished speaking.
"Ah! F-f-fck!"
The pistol fell to the ground because of the pain in his wrist, and his two companions looked at him dumbfounded.
On his wrist, without anyone knowing when, a dusty compass was stuck in.
The price tag on this compass hadn't even been torn off!
(end of chapter)