Already this skilled? Are you trying to fool a fool?
Everyone thought secretly.
"Akaba, your depth truly astonishes me."
Orochimaru mused inwardly, feeling an even stronger sense of crisis. Konoha had always been the village of the greatest shinobi, continuously producing geniuses; he could not afford to slack off.
"Alright, time to move on."
After enjoying the commotion, Sakumo and Shiso waved their hands and prepared to leave.
Akaba turned around, just about to enter the store, when suddenly a harsh cough interrupted him: "Ahem! Did you forget? I haven't drawn a lottery ticket yet!"
Gekko Nightdance wore black clothes and, because of his young age, was quite small in stature. He usually kept quiet—making it easy for others to forget he was around.
"Ahem, right, let me draw now."
Slightly embarrassed, the clone took out the box and let him draw.
Gekko Nightdance pulled out a slip, but his face fell immediately—"Thank you for participating" was written on it.
"Hmm... If you're willing to buy another manga volume, I can give you another chance to draw."
Akaba spoke upon seeing how disappointed he looked.
"Ah? Really?"
"Yes."
Akaba nodded.
He wasn't like those companies that make players spend money without giving them real rewards. With such a high winning rate, buying again would surely result in a win.
Gekko Nightdance hesitated briefly before taking out another hundred taels.
The clone handed him the box again; this time, he didn't have such bad luck—he finally won third prize.
"Two posters. Let me check."
Akaba dissolved his mischievous clone and sat down personally.
Glancing through, he picked two small posters and handed them to Nightdance. Upon seeing them, Gekko Nightdance's face immediately lit up with cheerful delight.
"Thank you. I'll be going too."
Clutching the posters tightly, he turned and ran after the others who had already walked off.
A young worker from the Sakuma clan, who was helping restock the shelves nearby, watched all this and gave a small nod of approval.
Yet—
A clinking sound rang out as another hundred taels were placed on the table.
Gekko Nightdance drew once more. This time, he finally got lucky and won third place.
"Two posters. Let me see..."
Akaba dismissed his trouble-making clone and sat down himself.
Looking through, he selected two small posters and handed them to Nightdance. Seeing the two posters, Gekko Nightdance's face lit up with a delighted smile.
"Thank you. I'm off now."
He tucked the posters under his arm and hurried away to catch up with the others who had long since departed.
The Sakuma clansman assisting with stocking stared, stunned. After hesitating slightly, he asked, "Young Master, one book is enough to read—why did he buy again?"
"If only reading the content matters, then indeed one copy would suffice for sharing among the whole clan. But if it's about collecting keepsakes..."
Akaba sighed lightly.
In his past life, he'd often fallen victim to these kinds of manipulative game mechanics by greedy companies. Now it was his turn to play the trick on someone else.
Besides, for just a hundred taels per volume, the price was already very cheap.
Soon after, many more people came over to buy mangas, leaving only a few spots remaining among the first hundred customers.
By the time the last customer approached, Akaba stood there absentmindedly, clearly drowsy.
But—
Someone else approached with heavy footsteps.
He tilted his head upward lazily, eyes lifting slowly. What met his gaze were feet clad in wooden sandals.
His line of sight moved slowly upward—black robes, a sword hilt protruding at the shoulder, a face cold as ice.
Who is this?
Akaba found him familiar but couldn't recall exactly who he was.
"[Unidentified Customer] Just give me a manga."
His tone was indifferent, giving no clue to his emotions.
Akaba's eyelid twitched. He quickly picked up a book and handed it over, hoping the customer would leave soon. Unfortunately, the guest showed no intention of going. He took the book, leaned against the doorway, and began flipping through it in silence.
After glancing through a few pages, he closed the manga. "This story," he asked, "is it about Naruto Uzumaki, or is it about you?"
"Don't joke around, sir. Of course, the story is about Naruto Uzumaki. I'm not a jinchuriki myself."
Akaba answered with a faint smile, though inwardly he became more certain that this visitor meant no good.
"Not necessarily. Demons also dwell within the Sakuma clan."
His tone was sharp and filled with menace.
Akaba felt an immense aura of terror rush toward him, sapping all his strength.
Was this killing intent?
"The inner demon, you mean?"
"You figured it out, indeed."
The man put the book down, his gaze growing fiercer. "And knowing that, you still don't strive? Still draw these useless things?"
"That's not true. It's a culture, and even more—"
Akaba responded verbally while secretly thinking of countermeasures. By now, he had already guessed the man's identity, which made him even more cautious.
"A weapon for controlling minds! Sakuma Akaba, what are you planning to do?"
In that moment, the piercing look in his eyes was like a razor-sharp blade.
At this time in Konoha, only one man was known as the Shadow of the Ninja World—Danzo Shimura.
Of course, at this stage, Danzo had just retreated into the shadows and hadn't yet gained notorious titles like "the Shadow of the Ninja World" or "Pot Man" (a mocking nickname).
"To be honest, I just wanted to draw. That's all."
"If you're really looking to start something with me, I won't stop you—but it'd be pointless, and frankly, not worth my effort."
Akaba knew that any pretense in front of Danzo would only feed suspicion. In that case, it was better to simply speak honestly.
"You're smart."
Danzo nodded approvingly, then sighed. "Smarter than I imagined. A shame."
With that, he left behind a hundred coins, grabbed the manga, turned around, and walked away.
Danzo didn't reveal his identity nor did he say everything outright, but somehow, he seemed convinced that Akaba would understand both who he was and what he meant. Yet, Akaba still struggled to grasp it fully. Could you please make yourself a bit clearer?!
"Ah, smart people are exhausting enough as friends—being their apprentice is even worse."
Akaba sighed inwardly.
Danzo, who was currently plotting how to secretly take control of Konoha, likely grasped immediately the significance of works like this manga.
The Shadow of the Ninja World—he truly lived up to his name.
Still, what Danzo truly sought wasn't the manga itself, but newspapers.
"Whatever. Take one step at a time. If you really intend to act against me, don't blame me for retaliating afterward."
Akaba murmured silently.
His thoughts were indeed simple—he merely wished to survive comfortably in this ninja world. Whoever tried to make his life miserable, he'd make sure to return the favor.
"Last ticket left. Tsunade, if you don't hurry, someone else will take it!"
Akaba glanced at the box he had hidden.
Inside the box was the "only" ticket—one he'd deliberately kept aside for Tsunade.
Well, since he was running the Lottery himself, cheating a little wasn't a big deal.
However, the longer Tsunade was gone, the more Akaba worried about Jiraiya. If things went as he suspected, the next time they met, Jiraiya might already be in the hospital.
"Jiraiya."
Akaba was about to pretend to sigh dramatically when he saw a green-clad figure leap down from above.
"Ugh, it's all Jiraiya's fault! I wanted to punch him so badly that I didn't come back until now,"
Akaba fumed, stomping her feet angrily.
Judging by the bloodstains on Tsunade's sleeve, someone must have been seriously injured—perhaps already in the emergency room.
Wise enough not to ask, Akaba simply smiled and said, "It's fine. I saved one for you—you're next in the lottery draw."
"Seriously?"
"That's right. You're exactly number one hundred because Danzo didn't take part before you, so there's still one chance left."
He pulled out the box, which only had the final slip of paper left inside.
Tsunade reached in and grabbed the final slip. At first glance, she couldn't help but exclaim, "What? A poster? The One-and-Only Poster?"
"Wow! Sir, you're truly lucky! Congratulations—you've won the grand prize!"
With an exaggerated tone, he pulled out a rolled-up poster carefully stored inside a cylindrical tube and placed it on the table.
"This is it?"
Tsunade's eyes sparkled. Just by looking at the length of the tube, she could tell this painting must be large and detailed—otherwise such packaging wouldn't be necessary.
As it unfurled, dazzling brilliance filled their vision. The image on it was breathtaking beyond belief!
"Th-this… th-this… i-it's…"
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