The gates of Konohagakure were grander than he had imagined.
The massive green wooden doors stood wide open. A fabric curtain bearing the character for 'Hermitage' hung from the frame.
But that was merely the surface.
The moment Sosuke stepped through the gates, he felt something abnormal. It was like a film of water, invisible to the naked eye, gently sweeping over his body.
A sensory barrier.
Used to screen the chakra fluctuations of outsiders.
Sosuke kept his head down, trailing behind Takaya Jiro. The sliver of chakra within his body was far too weak—weaker, even, than a newly enrolled Academy student. The Sensor Division ninja manning the barrier would almost certainly dismiss him as an ordinary civilian.
"The passes are clear."
The inspection was handled by two men in dark blue uniforms. The cuffs of their sleeves were embroidered with a red and white fan crest.
The Uchiha Clan.
The Konoha Military Police Force.
Sosuke stole a glance. These two Uchiha clansmen wore expressions of cold arrogance. They looked at the merchant caravan with an innate sense of superiority. Even when faced with Takaya Jiro—who was smiling obsequiously while slipping them money—they merely scoffed.
"Too many outsiders in the village lately," one of the Uchiha said coldly, pocketing the stack of bills Takaya had handed over. "Keep your men in line. If there's any trouble in this district, we won't bother with an interrogation. You'll be detained immediately."
Takaya Jiro bowed repeatedly.
"Of course, of course. We are all honest businessmen."
The caravan was let through.
Once inside the village, Takaya Jiro wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Those red-eyed bastards are getting harder to please by the day," the fat man cursed under his breath.
Sosuke didn't reply.
He was observing the interior of Konohagakure. It was prosperous. The streets were wide, lined with shops on both sides. But what he saw, more than anything else, were the hallmarks of militarization.
Dark silhouettes occasionally flickered across the rooftops. Those were patrol ninja. Conscription flyers were plastered on the utility poles. Though soaked by the rain, the words 'For the Will of Fire' remained starkly legible.
The peace here was built on highly strung nerves.
The convoy stopped in the backyard of an inn within the commercial district. This was the Takaya Merchant Guild's stronghold in Konohagakure.
"Sosuke, come with me."
Takaya Jiro stepped down from the carriage. Though he still needed support, his complexion had recovered significantly.
He led Sosuke through two streets, arriving at a relatively remote neighborhood. It was near the edge of the village, a fair distance from the bustling main roads. The surroundings were mostly civilian residences, dotted with small shops running low-end businesses.
A blacksmith, a tailor, a stall selling cheap dango.
Takaya Jiro stopped in front of a small, two-story building.
The house was old. The wood was blackened with age, and moss grew on the front steps. A paper seal was pasted across the door.
"This used to be an apothecary." Takaya Jiro pointed at the building. "The previous owner was a lonely old man. He died last month. The guild reclaimed the property."
He pulled a key from his coat and tossed it to Sosuke.
"Business downstairs, living quarters upstairs. I've already had someone handle the paperwork. You are my distant nephew, and the acting manager of this shop."
Sosuke caught the key.
It was cold.
"The conditions?" Sosuke asked.
Merchants didn't do charity.
"First, I want seventy percent of the monthly profits." Takaya Jiro held up a fat finger.
Cutthroat.
"Second, you keep your damn mouth shut about that silver tube."
He was afraid for his life.
"Third, and most importantly." Takaya Jiro stared into Sosuke's eyes, his smile vanishing. "Don't cause trouble for me. Especially not with the shinobi."
Sosuke nodded.
"Deal."
"Here is 2,000 Ryo in startup capital, along with the first batch of basic medicinal herbs." Takaya Jiro gestured to two crates being carried over by his men. "Mind yourself."
With that, the fat man turned and left.
No hesitation, no lingering. He was a smart investor; having placed his bet, he gave it room to breathe.
Sosuke tore off the seal.
The key slid into the lock, turning with a crisp click. The door opened. A wave of musty air hit his face.
Sosuke stepped inside.
It was dark. The counter was coated in a thick layer of dust. The medicine cabinets in the corner were completely empty, save for a few broken clay pots.
Sosuke closed the door.
Leaning his back against the wood, he let out a long exhale.
Safe.
At least for now.
He finally had a space of his own. No more worrying about sleeping on the streets. No more worrying about getting his throat slit in the middle of the night.
He walked to the window and pushed it open a crack.
Outside were the streets of Konohagakure. A few children ran past, clutching toy shuriken. In the distance, the three carved faces on the Hokage Monument overlooked the entire village.
The First, Second, and Third Hokage.
Sosuke drew the curtains.
The room plunged back into darkness. He held out his hand. With a slight shift in thought, a bead of pure gold materialized in his palm.
In this isolated space, he could finally examine his wealth without restraint.
But he didn't smile.
This gold bead couldn't buy power.
He casually set the gold down on the dusty counter. Then, he started cleaning. He fetched water and a rag. He worked methodically. From the inside out, he scrubbed every corner spotless.
Until night fell.
The shop was thoroughly refreshed. Old, yes, but it finally felt lived-in.
He pulled out the [Basic Chakra Refinement Method].
This was his first night in Konohagakure.
He was hungry.
That 2,000 Ryo of startup capital wasn't just for stock; it had to cover his meals. Prices in Konoha weren't low. Especially for meat.
Sosuke rubbed his stomach.
"I need to find a way to make some money," he muttered to himself.
Not by exchanging gold and silver directly. That was too easy to expose. He needed to turn his silver into a commodity. A product that no one could trace, but everyone had to buy.
His gaze fell on the broken clay pot.
Medicine.
In an era where medical ninjutsu was scarce, civilians had to endure illness through sheer grit or chew on raw herbs. If a wound was infected—a biological reality the ignorant locals superstitiously called an 'Evil Wind' entering the body—the mortality rate was staggeringly high.
The corners of Sosuke's mouth ticked upward.
He thought of the silver tube that had saved Takaya Jiro's life.
Silver ions. It was the most primitive, yet most effective antibiotic.
He could create 'Silver Water.' Or, more accurately, colloidal silver. It didn't require complex industrial processes. He only needed to use his ability to generate microscopic silver particles and suspend them in distilled water. It could kill bacteria, reduce inflammation, and sanitize wounds.
To the public, he would claim it was an ancestral secret potion. No one was going to run a chemical analysis on its contents. Even if they did, they would only find silver.
Sosuke stood up.
He extended a finger in the darkness. Specks of silver dust, like falling starlight, drifted from his fingertip into a bowl of water on the table. The water rippled.
Inside the strongest military base in the shinobi world, an inconspicuous little shop quietly opened for business.
Morning.
The streets of Konohagakure woke early. Steam rose from the breakfast stalls, and the patrolling Military Police Force changed shifts.
Sosuke's shop door opened.
He hung a new wooden sign by the entrance. The characters were freshly painted from the night before: 'Sosuke'sSundries'. Beside it ran a line of smaller text:
There were no firecrackers, no congratulatory flower baskets. It was utterly desolate.
Sosuke didn't expect a flood of customers right out of the gate anyway.
He pulled up a chair behind the counter, gnawing on a loaf of rye bread. This was his breakfast. It was rock-hard and slightly sour, but it filled his stomach.
As he ate, he circulated chakra through his body.
That weak wisp of chakra, after a few days of careful nurturing, had grown a fraction thicker. If it was the width of a single hair before, it was now about two.
Progress was agonizingly slow.
Sosuke could feel his body protesting. His cells were screaming in hunger. With every cycle of chakra refinement, the physical deficit deepened.
"My nutrition can't keep up."
Sosuke swallowed the last bite of bread and sighed. The old adage—'the poor study literature, the rich study martial arts'—was perfectly embodied in the shinobi world.
To get stronger, he needed meat. Specifically, the meat of ninja beasts rich in cellular energy, or specialized medicinal diets.
And those required money. Vast amounts of money.
Ting.
The wind chime at the door rang. Sosuke immediately halted his refinement and looked up.
It wasn't a customer.
It was a middle-aged man wearing a green flak jacket. He held a clipboard in his hand, and an administrative staff badge hung from his chest.
"Are you the Sosuke registered by the Takaya Merchant Guild?" The man's tone was strictly business; he barely even bothered to glance at Sosuke.
"I am." Sosuke stood up.
"This is your temporary residence permit. Valid for three months." The man tossed a card onto the counter. "It will be reviewed in three months. If you have any criminal record, you'll be deported immediately."
"Additionally, commercial tax is due on the first of every month. Sanitation management fees are due on the fifth. The Will of Fire Development Donation... that one is voluntary, but it is highly recommended you pay it." The man rattled off the list in one breath.
"How much in total?" Sosuke asked.
"For the first month, including the processing fee, 500 Ryo."
Sosuke pulled out the cash he had prepared in advance from under the counter.
500 Ryo. A quarter of the startup capital Takaya Jiro had provided was gone in an instant. Paying out before he'd even opened for business.
This was reality.
The administrator pocketed the money, his expression softening just a fraction.
"This area is secluded. Don't wander around at night."
Dropping that piece of advice, he turned and left.
Sosuke put the temporary residence permit away. It was a stiff piece of paper stamped with the red seal of the Hokage's Office.
With this, he had finally planted a root in Konohagakure.
Even if it was a desperately shallow one.