After leaving the thoroughly plundered Kitahara family, Shen Mo paused outside the brightly lit mansion. He gazed up at the full moon, a silent smile spreading across his face as he unconsciously reached out a hand toward the celestial body.
"Eleven million!" he whispered, the total Transaction Points now flashing in his mind after deducting all costs. A net gain of 10 million TPs from a few hours of work.
The exhilaration he felt went beyond the sheer profit. He genuinely enjoyed the sales process—the spectacle of watching ordinary people, like the Kitaharas, succumb to their deepest desires and become utterly obsessed with his jars.
"It feels like designing the ultimate game," he mused, a joyous expression on his face. "A game where customers buy happiness and change their destiny by spending money. That feeling... it's truly addictive."
Shen Mo, at his core, was a creator who loved engineering powerful, non-malicious surprise. As a former game designer, he saw this entire venture as an elaborate, immersive experience. This feeling cemented his commitment to the life of an interdimensional merchant.
He looked around the quiet, high-walled town. While the Kitahara family was the largest, he was in no rush to find the next target. Having a multi-million-dollar safety net on hand was enough to dispel the anxiety of being stranded in a hostile world.
"Time to relax and recharge," he decided. "A secretive merchant doesn't stay in hotels."
He scanned the system for a suitable accommodation item and found it: the Anywhere Door from the world of Doraemon.
The item's concept was simple but magical: attach the door to any surface, open it, and step into an extra-dimensional, non-existent room. Removing the door from the inside would erase its existence on the outer wall. A self-contained, perfect hideaway.
Value: 2.3 Million Transaction Points.
"It's expensive, but absolutely necessary," Shen Mo confirmed. Compared to items that altered space and time, a utility item that merely created a personal pocket dimension was relatively affordable, yet perfectly effective for his need for comfort and security.
"Bought!"
With his new wealth, Shen Mo embraced extravagance. He located a hidden alley wall, deployed the door, and stepped through. He found himself in a fully furnished, modern apartment complete with a microwave, washing machine, and electric kettle—a slice of the modern world.
"Now, time to refuel," he said, opening the door inside his pocket dimension. He purchased a luxurious meal from the world of Toriko, the explosive flavors of the gourmet food instantly dissolving his loneliness.
While Shen Mo savored his dinner, the rest of the world was in turmoil because of him.
Tsunade was racing toward Konoha. Meanwhile, after ensuring his terrified guards were dismissed, Yuuki Kitahara barred the family gates and began the night-long process of opening his 40 sets of Tier Two Jars.
The opening was slow, methodical, and carried out entirely by the patriarch, with his two sons forced to watch in agonizing silence. The Tier Two Jars contained item descriptions, removing the initial fear of the unknown. Kitahara carefully categorized every item: disposable buffs, potions, weapons, and accessories.
But every time an Experience Aura or Physique Fortification Liquid appeared—items that promised immediate, tangible power—he used them instantly.
His eldest son, Kyona, watched with visible, seething jealousy.
His second son, Ryuta, merely stood with his head bowed, respectful but alert.
Finally, the last jar was opened.
The results were spectacular: powerful weapons, rare medicinal elixirs, and, most crucially, three vials of the Fountain of Youth, each promising to extend life by one month.
Yuuki Kitahara slowly closed his eyes, savoring the power and the temporary reprieve from mortality. When he finally opened them, his gaze was utterly ruthless as he stared at his sons.
"Kyona. Ryuta. Not a word of this leaves these walls. This concerns the future—and the survival—of the Kitahara family."
His sons trembled. The blatant murderous intent in their father's eyes made it clear that any lapse in secrecy would be answered with death.
"Kyona," Yuuki Kitahara commanded, his tone sharp. "Take a selection of these lesser artifacts and sell them on the ninja black market. Secure the highest price possible. Ryuta, you will accompany me to the Capital."
The change in orders struck both sons like a physical blow, though the reactions were opposite.
Kyona's face flushed with betrayal and rage. For years, he had been the heir apparent, his position to the capital secured. Now, his father was clearly shifting his favor to the more obedient and capable Ryuta. He clenched his fists but dared not speak, terrified of his father's scrutiny.
Ryuta, meanwhile, was barely able to contain his ecstatic excitement.
Yuuki Kitahara, however, was already distracted. He was clutching the elegant communication badge Shen Mo had given him. Excitement, tension, and a powerful, overriding fear all mixed in his chest.
He wasn't foolish enough to believe he was the merchant's only client. There were far richer, far more powerful nobles and merchants in the capital. He had to be both careful and quick.
He vividly remembered the situation: the Fire Country Daimyo's own father-in-law was rumored to be on his deathbed, a decline that even the great medical ninja Tsunade couldn't halt.
This was his chance. The chance to use the merchant's ultimate wares to secure an eternal political alliance and power that would make his lost fortune irrelevant. He would use his remaining life to introduce the merchant to the highest authority in the land.
The pursuit of the next jar had begun, now fueled by ambition and desperation, directed straight toward the heart of the Land of Fire's government.