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Resets Weekly! [Monday]
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Inside a public restroom in the Land of Birds.
This was no ordinary restroom; hidden within was an underground exchange point—a hub for the underworld. Murder, theft, kidnapping, smuggling, money laundering, even orchestrating coups—if it was illegal and profitable, you could find someone here to do it. As long as you could afford the price, anything was possible.
At this moment, Kakuzu was meticulously counting stacks of money. At his feet lay a lifeless body—his latest target, it seemed.
After finishing the final bundle of bills, Kakuzu nodded in satisfaction and placed the money into a briefcase. His obsession with money was unparalleled; every time he completed a mission, he would count the payment himself, bill by bill. It wasn't that he didn't trust the exchange point—it was simply that he enjoyed the act of counting money, savoring the scent of fresh ink. In his long, endless life, only money gave him a sense of security and fulfillment.
"Perfect. Exactly three million ryō. He's all yours now." Kakuzu nudged the body at his feet with disdain. Two employees from the exchange point quickly came over to remove the corpse.
"Mr. Kakuzu, please wait a moment."
Kakuzu paused mid-step and turned to look at the employee who had spoken.
"We have a client who specifically requested you for a custom job. The payment is substantial. Would you be interested?"
"A custom job? What's the price?"
"What's the job?" Kakuzu's interest was piqued. In times of war, human life was cheap, and while his workload had increased, the pay had not. Jobs paying less than five million ryō used to be beneath him, but now, out of necessity, he had to accept smaller contracts three-million-ryō one. A ten-million-ryō job, custom-tailored for him? How could he not be tempted?
"This person." The employee handed him a photograph.
"Hanzo of the Salamander?" Kakuzu raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Exactly. That's the target," the employee confirmed, adjusting his slightly slipping sunglasses.
"This man is known as the 'Demi-God of the Shinobi World.' His ninjutsu is exceptional, his scythe techniques are precise, and his summoning beast, Ibuse, is ferocious. He's not an easy target..."
"Are you saying you're declining the job?"
"No, I'm saying the price needs to go up."
"Our client anticipated this. Given the difficulty of the task, they've authorized me to negotiate the fee. Please, name your price." The employee spread his hands.
"Seventeen million ryō," Kakuzu said, testing the waters with a high number.
"Deal," the employee replied with a slight smile.
Damn it, should've asked for more. Kakuzu cursed himself internally. But it was too late to renegotiate, so he let it go.
"Fine, I accept. What's the proof of completion? Bring back the body or something else?"
"No need. From the moment you accept the job, as long as news of the target's death reaches the public within three months, you can claim your payment. The client has their own ways of verifying the result."
Kakuzu nodded and glanced at his watch. "Then let's start the clock now."
"Come, come, eat up! These are fresh hot spring fish, just delivered this morning from the Land of Rivers. The meat is tender, the flavor exquisite—a rare delicacy. You must try some, Lord Hanzo," Rasa said with a standard fake smile, courteously offering the dish.
Hanzo of the Salamander sat at the head of the table, untouched by the lavish spread of food and drink before him. He silently toyed with his sake cup, his half-open, half-closed eyes fixed on the dancing geishas in the room. His expression was unreadable, and the atmosphere quickly grew awkward.
"Manager Rasa," Hanzo finally broke the silence after a long pause.
"Yes, Lord Hanzo?" Rasa immediately straightened up, adopting a posture of attentiveness.
"We're feasting here, but my people can't even afford to eat."
"Is that so? That's terrible news. Everyone knows how much you care for your citizens, Lord Hanzo. Clearly, your subordinates need to be disciplined. We can't let them tarnish your reputation," Rasa replied with a laugh, completely ignoring the fact that Hanzo's face was now tinged with anger.
"Manager Rasa, are you unaware? Yesterday, twenty thousand refugees surrounded my Rain Village Tower. It nearly turned into a bloodbath," Hanzo said, his patience wearing thin and his tone growing sharper.
"Really? That's unfortunate. But why are your Rain Village refugees acting ?" Rasa continued to feign ignorance, deliberately emphasizing "Rain Village refugees" to make it clear that this wasn't his problem.
"I have an agreement with Lord Jinghang! Sunagakure's factories in Amegakure are supposed to help resettle the refugees!" Hanzo finally lost his composure, laying his cards on the table.
Damn beggars, and they still complain about the quality of the food. Rasa cursed silently.
"Times are tough, you see. The factories are already operating at full capacity, and we simply don't need more workers. Besides, the taxes in Rain Village are exorbitant and keep rising. Our two factories are barely breaking even. I've already reported this to the Kazekage and am considering relocating the factories. I hear the Land of Rivers has a favorable environment, and Lord Hot Water of Yugakure has a good relationship with the Kazekage. Moving there shouldn't be an issue," Rasa said bluntly, no longer bothering to be polite.
"You—!" Hanzo was so infuriated that he was at a loss for words. All he wanted now was to draw his scythe and cut down this smug, smirking man.
"However, there might be room for negotiation," Rasa said, taking a sip of sake, as if he hadn't just provoked the infamous demi-god.
"Oh?" Hanzo, sensing a potential compromise, calmed himself.
"Here's my suggestion. We recently received a large order from Kumogakure, and our Sada Iron Mine is struggling to meet the demand. If Lord Hanzo could transfer the mining rights to the Suma Iron Mine, I believe the refugee issue could be resolved. After all, mining operations require workers, don't they?"
"You want the mining rights to the Suma Iron Mine? For how long?"
"The usual—fifty years."
"Twenty-eight million ryō."
Hanzo fell silent. The Suma Iron Mine was slightly smaller than the Sada Iron Mine, but its ore quality was significantly higher. Twenty-eight million ryō was neither a high nor a low price, leaving him hesitant.
Seeing Hanzo's hesitation, Rasa threw out another bombshell.
"If we finalize this deal, an additional two million ryō will be your personal... tea money." Rasa snapped his fingers, and his assistant Karuro stepped forward with a briefcase. Opening it, he revealed neatly stacked bundles of cash.
"Lord Hanzo, if you ever find yourself short on funds, just let me know directly. There's no need for all these nuisance fees like sanitation charges or garbage collection taxes. Why complicate things? We're friends, after all," Rasa said with a smile.
Hanzo's eyes were glued to the cash, a greedy glint flashing within them. After a long moment, he picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of fish, and removed his breathing apparatus to eat it. His eyes widened in surprise at the taste.
"This hot spring fish is indeed exquisite," Hanzo said, replacing his mask.
"Perfect. Enjoy yourself, Lord Hanzo," Rasa said, clapping his hands. Two stunning geishas gracefully moved to either side of Hanzo.
"Remember, Lord Hanzo is the famous demi-god of the shinobi world! Treat him well!" Rasa instructed.
"Yes," the geishas replied with a bow, their revealing attire making even Hanzo's heart skip a beat.
"Take your time, Lord Hanzo. Eat, drink, and enjoy. I have other matters to attend to, so I'll leave you to it."
"Good, good. Go handle your business," Hanzo said, already preoccupied with the geishas.
"Honestly, I've never seen someone so happy to sell off their ancestral assets. Makes me almost not want to kill him," Rasa remarked as he exited the hall, speaking to Karuro.
"Too late. The Kazekage has already given the order," Karuro said, handing Rasa a small note.
"Oh, really?" Rasa's eyes lit up as he read the note, his smile growing wider.
Listening to the laughter and merriment coming from the hall, Rasa couldn't help but smirk coldly.
"Eat, drink, and enjoy yourself, old man. You won't have many more days to do so."