Compared to player-versus-player battles, player-versus-dungeon-boss fights better suited this unfair competitive setup.
Sadly, that wasn't viable here.
Not now, at least.
What loomed was the first true member showdown—Zabuza versus Sasuke.
Shen Mo had to nail down the PVP rules before then.
Though this world differed vastly from a game, Shen Mo's spirit buzzed with excitement, a rare spark of creative fire.
"Other merchants don't get my shot—to turn a whole world into a profit stage."
Grinning, Shen Mo summoned a coffee, fingers flying over the keyboard.
In the days that followed…
Beyond Shen Mo's work, Zabuza and Haku honed their strength rapidly. Sasuke and Naruto trained too, though Naruto's "training" was selling chakra via Sasuke's membership badge to buy cans from Shen Mo.
Way faster than self-training.
Of course, busy Shen Mo didn't show, using the System's custom function to teleport cans. Once the System confirmed the trade, it extracted chakra.
Forty Level 1 cans daily.
In just four days, Naruto earned his own badge.
The cost? He spent those days mostly sleeping to recover.
The Nine-Tails was utterly baffled.
"This kid… isn't someone using him as a chakra-draining tool?"
The Nine-Tails grew uneasy.
Under the seal, its chakra was siphoned daily by Naruto for quick recovery.
Draining chakra without killing him? It felt targeted.
With Strength Series cans…
Naruto's power surged.
If he took a Power Pill now, he'd solidly hit jōnin level.
By day six…
Shen Mo eyed a page, sighing long.
"Finally done."
After endless tweaks and deliberation…
His future profit path clarified.
Selling cans was the core plan—no change there. Normal item-selling games couldn't match can profits.
"Zabuza's about ready," Shen Mo said, using a scrying spell to watch Zabuza and Haku's tightening teamwork. Glancing at Sasuke's group, he pondered, stood, and called to a listless Hiju. "Let's go, Hiju. Time for a walk."
"Meow—!"
Hiju perked up, spinning three circles before nimbly climbing Shen Mo's pant leg to his shoulder.
Cooped up for nearly a week, she was stir-crazy, feeling her belly chub grow.
She wasn't a tabby.
Outside, it was noon, the sun blazing.
"Time to visit that infamous tycoon."
Shen Mo squinted at the sun, strolling toward a mushroom-shaped building in the forest.
Right—his target was the tycoon Gato.
A commoner whose vibe clashed with his status.
Shen Mo recalled the Beiyuan clan from his first town. They hired a special jōnin and five or six chūnin as guards, carrying a noble clan's poise. Gato, a world-class magnate, acted like a buffoon.
Even with his wealth spread across vaults…
Ninjas like Zabuza, enraged, would kill him for free.
Most baffling?
Gato seemed clueless about ninja strength, relying on bandits while personally meddling, despite the cutthroat shipping trade.
With a hunch, Shen Mo sauntered to Gato's mushroom-like base.
Gato's stronghold.
Tall trees blocked sunlight, casting gloom even at noon.
Noisy chatter echoed inside.
Creak—
The gate opened automatically for Shen Mo.
The noise hushed, all eyes turning to him.
They exchanged glances.
"Boss, your guest?" a samurai-dressed man with a machete asked, tilting his head toward the man inside.
Short, fat, in a suit with a laughable hairstyle—like a dressed-up monkey.
Gato.
He held a wine glass, tipsy.
He barely glanced at Shen Mo, waving his cane dismissively. "Don't know him. If he's not yours, kill him and toss him out. Oh, keep the cat."
Even from afar, he saw Hiju's value.
A super-cute, flawless furball.
Noble ladies' favorite.
"That so?"
"Haha, this guy's screwed."
"Hey, your outfit's neat. Got cash? We might let you go."
"Strip first. Look at that soft skin, heh."
The bandits stood, laughing, spewing filth, lawless scum.
Shen Mo's smile didn't waver.
Hiju, though, puffed up, arching and meowing angrily—her sharp claws hidden, all cute.
"Easy, girl."
Shen Mo soothed, petting Hiju's head, ignoring the circling bandits.
Snap—
A crisp finger snap.
Soft, yet eerily ringing in everyone's ears, hearts even.
Space seemed to freeze briefly.
Then, horror struck.
"Boss, your hand…"
A bandit stared at his leader, voice shaking, eyes wide, seeing something terrifying.
"Hand?"
The bandit boss raised his arm, watching his clothes, then flesh, turn to dust, drifting away.
Skin, veins, muscle…
"Aaah—!"
Hysterical, fear-filled screams echoed through the building. The more he moved, the faster he crumbled. Others followed, one by one, faces frozen in terror, dissolving into dust, scattering, then gone with the wind.
No stopping it, no fighting it.
They couldn't comprehend it.
Just watched their bodies collapse, feeling the dread of being torn apart bit by bit.
--------------------
Want to read ahead? Early chapters on: patreon.com/ShadowKage