In the evening, Ruichi returned to Ichiraku Ramen.
"Earth Release: Earth House."
Rumble—
The ground trembled lightly as earth surged upward, rapidly shaping itself into the framework of a snack stall, complete with a roof and counter.
The earth-and-stone structure was solid and level, with the counter at just the right height.
Construction cost: one steamed bun per square meter. It just burns too much chakra—otherwise, I could probably make a fortune in construction, Ruichi thought.
Without pause, he formed hand seals again, chakra flowing into the stall.
"Earth Release: Rock Furniture."
The interior refined itself instantly. Shelves and a workbench formed behind the counter, while several fixed tables and chairs rose from the ground in front.
The stone tabletops were polished smooth like mirrors, and the shelf spacing was exactly to his taste.
Finally, he went next door to draw a bucket of water.
"Water Release: Wash."
Water flowed on its own, scrubbing every corner and washing away all the dust from the newly formed earth and stone.
From an empty lot to a fully functional snack stall—it took less than ten minutes.
Several passersby stared in stunned silence.
"Can ninjutsu even be used like this?"
"Even a Jonin couldn't pull off Earth Release with this level of precision, right?"
Ruichi ignored the comments and casually hung up a wooden sign:
Ruichi Snacks — Open When Fate Allows
Job done.
Under the crowd's complicated gazes, Ruichi stretched lazily and headed back to his apartment.
Open a shop? First, sleep.
---
Ruichi slept until the sun was high in the sky.
No missions.
No alarm clocks.
No performance quotas.
Ah… this is real life.
After washing up, he strolled to the market to buy ingredients and began preparing for a noon opening.
Finished dumplings.
Marinated meat skewers.
A large pot of mung bean soup.
He pushed a creaky cart toward the stall he had "built" the day before.
By lunchtime, Ichiraku Ramen next door was already packed.
Ayame stole a moment to wave at him, silently mouthing, "You can do it!"
Ruichi smiled and flashed an OK sign as he parked the cart.
Light the fire.
Heat the pan.
Pour the oil.
His movements were smooth and practiced—completely at odds with his lazy personality.
The stall that had appeared out of nowhere had already drawn attention, and passersby gathered nearby.
"Isn't that the kid from Ichiraku Ramen?"
"Yeah, yesterday he just bam—built this place out of thin air. I thought I was caught in a Genjutsu."
"What's he selling? Doesn't look like ramen."
Ignoring the chatter, Ruichi picked up a plump white dumpling and placed it steadily into the pan.
Sizzle—
A pleasant sound rang out as the dumpling hit the hot oil.
He lined them up neatly, then formed hand seals with one hand. A thin layer of chakra spread across the pan's surface.
"Fire Release: Pan-Fried Dumplings."
A daily-life ninjutsu he'd refined yesterday, ensuring even heat across the entire pan.
Once the bottoms turned golden brown, Ruichi picked up a kettle and poured water along the pan's edge.
Hiss—
Steam exploded upward, enveloping the stall in white mist.
"Water Release: Steam Circulation."
Another daily-life technique—allowing the steam to circulate perfectly so the dumplings cooked fast while the wrappers absorbed just enough moisture, becoming chewy and springy.
Five minutes later, the steam cleared.
Ruichi lifted the lid.
Rendered pork fat blended perfectly with the sweetness of Chinese cabbage. The overpowering aroma seemed to grow legs, forcefully invading the noses of everyone nearby.
"Gulp."
Someone swallowed.
The golden crust connected all the dumplings together, while the tops were thin, translucent, and stuffed full—like a piece of edible art.
"Boss… h-how much is this?" someone finally asked.
Without looking up, Ruichi lifted the dumplings with a spatula.
"Six per serving. Fifty Ryo."
"Fifty?!"
Gasps erupted.
A bowl of Ichiraku Ramen only cost sixty or seventy ryo—six dumplings for fifty sounded outrageous.
"That's expensive…"
"Way too pricey…"
Ruichi held back the urge to argue.
Then, a soft, hesitant voice spoke up.
"Um… Brother Ruichi, I… I'll take one serving."
The girl stepped out from behind the crowd.
It was Hinata Hyuga.
Her face was slightly flushed, index fingers nervously poking each other.
Ruichi smiled gently.
"Thank you for your business. Since you're my first customer—buy one, get one free."
He slid the plate toward her and added a small dish of homemade dipping sauce.
All eyes immediately turned to the young lady of the Hyuga Clan.
Under the attention, Hinata grew nervous, but she still picked up a dumpling, dipped it carefully, and took a bite.
"Mmm!"
Her eyes widened instantly.
First came the crisp crunch of the fried bottom.
Then the chewy wrapper gave way, releasing a burst of piping-hot, savory meat juice.
Meat aroma, vegetable sweetness, and wheat fragrance exploded together, overwhelming her taste buds like a tidal wave.
Her shoulders relaxed.
Her expression softened.
Her pale eyes—faintly revealing the Byakugan—narrowed slightly as a blissful smile spread across her face.
She looked like she'd fallen into a warm dream.
"Hiss—!"
The onlookers sucked in sharp breaths.
"That good?! She looks like she's about to ascend!"
"Boss! One serving—no, two!"
"I'll take one too!"
"Move aside! I was here first! Boss, three servings—takeout!"
The crowd exploded.
Ruichi twitched at the corner of his mouth.
…I may have underestimated the killing power of good food.
While expertly frying dumplings, he took payments, already calculating whether he needed to prep more ingredients tomorrow.
Soon, the meat skewers and mung bean soup followed—both selling just as fast.
The skewers, grilled with precise Fire Release heat control, were crispy outside and tender inside. Genin devoured them with greasy mouths, shouting in satisfaction.
The sweet, refreshing mung bean soup was especially popular with the girls.
By sunset, everything was sold out.
Ruichi sat in front of the empty stall, counting his earnings.
A thick stack of bills.
Net profit: over five thousand ryo.
That was already comparable to the payout of a C-Rank Mission—and this was just day one.
No risk.
No ninja tool expenses.
No medical costs.
It completely crushed the income of most Genin.
Yet Ruichi wasn't happy.
He rubbed his aching waist and stared at his grease-covered hands.
From morning to night—shopping, prep, cooking, selling, giving change, dealing with weird customers, even handling troublemakers—he hadn't stopped once.
This… doesn't really feel like the "lying-flat" life I wanted, does it?
Making money was satisfying.
But the process was exhausting.
This wasn't the laid-back dream of sleeping in, selling casually, then lying on a rocking chair in the sun.
Ruichi looked at the money in his hands.
For some reason, it felt… too hot to hold.