"Despicable! Shameless! Utterly disgraceful!" Rasa slammed his fist on the table in a fit of rage, sending the teacup tumbling over and spilling tea across the surface.
"If you're angry, just say so, but why take it out on the table? Now I have to clean up," Karuke muttered as he pulled out a cloth to wipe the mess.
"Have you ever seen anything ? Have you? The factory hasn't even been running for a year, and this oxygen-tube-wearing old man has already raised taxes for the third time! What does he want? I bought the land along the river with real money for a fifty-year lease, so what gives him the right to demand more taxes? If he pushes me too far, I'll move the factory elsewhere. Tax hikes? Let him go tax the River God of Shule instead!"
"Move the factory? That's not an option. Did you forget what the Kazekage instructed? We're supposed to stay by this river," Karuke said, trying to calm Rasa down as if soothing an upset child. He poured Rasa another cup of tea.
Rasa slowly regained his composure, taking a sip of tea. "So, it's just one million ryō for 'sanitation fees'? Fine, give it to him. Consider it charity for a beggar."
"I think we can pay it, but we shouldn't give in so easily. If Hanzo of the Salamander can extort us at will, he'll only become more brazen in the future," Karuke cautioned.
"Of course, it won't be that easy!" Rasa said with a sly smile. "Send him an invitation. Let's have dinner tonight and propose that he sells us the Sumu Iron Mine. If he agrees, this one million can be counted as a personal gift from Sunagakure's Sandglass Group. Forget calling it 'sanitation fees' or 'garbage fees'—those terms sound too degrading."
"And if he refuses?" Karuke asked.
"If he refuses..." Rasa's lips curled into a sinister smile.
"Then I'll report him to the Kazekage and take this greedy old man down! Honestly, I'm starting to think the Second Kazekage, Shamon, was absolutely right—Amegakure deserved to be crushed!"
"I have a feeling this situation might be more complicated than we think. How about I write a report detailing everything here and submit it to Jinghang-sama? Let's see what he thinks," Karuke suggested.
"Good idea," Rasa nodded.
"We'll write it tomorrow. Tonight, let's first hear what that old man has to say. Oh, and temporarily halt the refugee intake from Amegakure. Let's throw that old man into some chaos first. If I'm not happy, he doesn't get to have peace either. Let him know this pot is made of iron."
Meanwhile, in Amegakure, Hanzo of the Salamander swirled the red wine in his glass, observing how it clung to the sides. Removing his mask, he took a delicate sip, savoring the taste. His expression softened, and his brows relaxed. After a long moment, he replaced his mask.
"What was Rasa's response when you delivered the notice this morning?" Hanzo asked.
"He didn't say yes or no. He just mentioned needing to hold a meeting to discuss it. But judging by his expression, he wasn't happy," reported Rō, his tone formal and precise.
"Not happy? Hahaha! With that sour face of his, when is he ever happy? Hahaha!" Hanzo burst into laughter, finding his own joke far too amusing. He laughed so hard it took him a while to stop.
"This Rasa is nothing more than a watchdog Jinghang left behind. At best, he's second-rate. A mere one million ryō in taxes is nothing more than pocket change, yet he still begrudges me. If it weren't for Jinghang's influence, I'd shut down that ridiculous Sandglass Factory tomorrow! Such a pathetic excuse for a leader!" Hanzo sneered.
Ever since the Sandglass Group established itself along the Shule River, it had provided Amegakure with a substantial cash flow. The initial investment of 20 million ryō, the 50-year lease of riverside land for 50 million ryō, the 50-year lease of the Sada Iron Mine for 30 million ryō, and the monthly 2 million ryō in commercial taxes—all these massive sums had Hanzo seeing stars. For context, a village the size of Sunagakure typically operated on an annual budget of 30 million ryō, while Amegakure, a much smaller ninja village, received just 10 million ryō annually from the Land of Rain's Daimyō. Suddenly, nearly 100 million ryō had fallen into Hanzo's lap, leaving him feeling like a nouveau riche.
With the war in the Land of Rain now completely over and Sunagakure helping to resolve the refugee crisis that had plagued him, Hanzo felt no more pressure. He had fully embraced a life of indulgence, abandoning his formerly austere and rugged lifestyle. Now, he drank fine wine, enjoyed tea ceremonies, watched dances, and even visited brothels. As Hanzo himself put it:
"I've fought wars my whole life—don't I deserve to enjoy myself now?"
"Report! Rasa has sent an invitation, requesting your presence for dinner tonight."
"Hmm, it seems Jinghang left someone sensible by that sour-faced man's side. Smart move. Send word that I'll attend at midnight," Hanzo said, taking the invitation, reading it, and nodding in satisfaction.
"There's one more thing."
"The Sandglass Group's refugee shelter has announced that it will stop accepting refugees as of today. A large number of refugees are now heading toward the Rain Tower."
"What?!" Hanzo stood up abruptly.
"Why aren't they accepting refugees anymore?"
"They claim they've reached their labor capacity for the year and can't afford to take in more..."
"Bastards! How many are heading this way?"
"Men, women, children—about twenty thousand in total..."
Crash! The ornate wine glass shattered into countless pieces on the floor.
The famous American psychologist Stuttgart once said:
"Sex is truly the best stress reliever. When faced with work pressure or emotional issues, not only does the human brain tense up, but the body also becomes rigid. Sex allows warmth to flow through the touch of hands and skin, promoting the release of endorphins in the brain—a chemical that induces feelings of happiness and calms emotions."
This statement had been scientifically proven, and Jinghang could attest to its truth. Watching Tsunade, who was now sound asleep on the sofa bed beside him, he gently pulled the blanket over her exposed shoulder. It was clear that Tsunade had been under immense pressure. Last night's activities had been almost frenzied by the end. If not for Jinghang's years of physical training and his disciplined lifestyle, he might not have survived the night.
Quietly getting up, Jinghang rubbed his slightly sore back, wrapped himself in his bathrobe, and carefully left the resting room. Since it was the weekend and the lab was empty, he took advantage of the early morning to sneak back to his villa.
The first thing he did was take a long shower. As he scrubbed himself clean, he pondered how to handle his relationship with Tsunade. As the Kazekage, it was impossible for him to marry into Konoha. Yet, having Tsunade move to Sunagakure seemed equally challenging. Although the two villages were allies now, who could say how long the alliance would last? Cross-village marriages, like Shikamaru and Temari's, only became possible after the Fourth Shinobi World War, during a time of unprecedented peace. But now? With the Second Shinobi World War raging and the Third looming on the horizon, the political climate made marrying someone like Tsunade—a "princess" of a prestigious clan—unthinkable. A political marriage? Forget it. A union between people of their status would essentially bind Konoha and Sunagakure together. Even if Konoha's leadership agreed, the elders of Sunagakure's council would never approve.
"Damn it, what's done is done. I'll just take it one step at a time," Jinghang muttered, unable to come up with a better solution. He decided to stop worrying about it for now.
After his shower, he changed into fresh clothes, made two sandwiches, and packed them into a lunchbox. With a mix of nervousness and anticipation, he headed back to the underground lab.