Hatake Satoru stuck out his tongue innocently and made a face at Deidara, turning his head.
It couldn't be helped. Hatake Satoru was so misleading that many people thought he was very reliable.
But he just did things as he pleased.
"Please don't destroy any more of the porcelain that can bloom."
"There's already so little of it left. If you keep destroying it, we'll lose not only the technique but even the proof that it existed."
After walking to a place near the current village chief's house, the group couldn't help but shield their eyes from the flashy, nouveau riche atmosphere of the building.
A circle of villagers surrounded the entrance, looking like they were watching something interesting.
The group, also curious, went over to join them. Judging from the sounds coming from inside, something seemed to be happening.
As they squeezed into the crowd, Deidara whispered to Sasori beside him.
"You said that guy's dad was an artist."
"But his taste is completely terrible, yeah."
And seeing such a scene of near begging, the current village chief seemed to be lacking in both taste and character.
Hatake Satoru found a spot at the front of the crowd and raised his eyes, looking over with curiosity.
Sasori, due to his height, didn't have time to answer Deidara. At his current height, all he could see were legs.
Annoying. He'd have to get Hatake Satoru to adjust his height when they got back.
At least give him a height where he could see things!
Don't turn everyone into kids just because you like them, you guy!
Karna paused. He didn't really like walking through crowded places like this.
But Sasori looked like he was about to get lost in the crowd, so he dutifully picked Sasori up.
Then he put him on his shoulders so he could see everything.
The golden armor that Karna wore gave off spikes, and instantly a path opened up for him in the crowd.
Hatake Satoru turned his head and looked over, amused.
He didn't expect the armor to have the effect of clearing crowds, but walking around like that was a bit too noticeable.
Deidara's eyes lit up, and the group huddled together.
"I knew it would end up like this, yeah."
"Sasori, you really don't like walking, do you? You used to lie down inside Hiruko and have him carry you around, yeah."
There was a hint of disgust on Deidara's face.
The kind of look you give someone who's so lazy.
"You talk too much. Aren't you the one who's always standing on your birds and never walking on the ground?"
Sasori, sitting on Karna's shoulders, kicked him to the side without hesitation.
Even if it was true, it was his freedom to use his puppets however he wanted, wasn't it?
Hatake Satoru had already complained about his height, and now Deidara was complaining about how he sat inside his puppet.
Hiruko was so small, what else could he do but lie down?
It felt like Sasori's status had been dropping ever since he came to Hatake Satoru's side.
Was it just because this body was too cute?
It would be nice to make another Hiruko, Sasori pondered absentmindedly.
"What's the point of keeping that kind of thing? It won't sell and it just gets in the way."
"Clear out the space to store things that can actually be sold!"
"Art, art... what's the use of being an artist?"
"After all, you're all poor guys who can't even fill your stomachs. If I hadn't come to reform you, would you be making this much money?!"
A man in colorful clothes, even studded with diamonds, shouted at the people kneeling on the ground.
The clothes were so tacky and vulgar, just like the building, giving off a disgusting feeling.
Even Hatake Satoru, who didn't have high standards for art, felt a bit of a cringe.
For him, a man who was good at everything, to feel like this was quite something.
White fragments were scattered on the ground, reflecting the warm sunlight in a dazzling way.
That was the downside of porcelain: it was too fragile, like human life.
Sasori's gaze darkened, but even so, he couldn't stand this guy's speech.
"If Master Moshao saw you like this..."
The person kneeling on the ground said sadly in a low voice. Moshao slapped him without hesitation, sending him flying.
The guy seemed to be unable to hear anything about his own father, and shouted angrily.
"People who talk about art are just a bunch of arrogant, self-important, unrealistic trash!"
"What's the point of art, what's the point of blooming? Do those things really matter?"
"Making money is the most important thing. You need to be able to eat before you can think about that other stuff."
"Just think they're something special, tch."
Ah, an interesting statement.
While many people did judge art in this way, these words were undoubtedly stimulating the two people next to him.
Artists and ordinary people looked down on each other. This kind of thing was pretty common.
After all, it was true that artists thought they were something special...
Hatake Satoru looked to the side with a bit of amusement.
Sasori's face was dark, but he didn't seem like he was going to do anything.
He was a bit annoyed that he was being included in the insult, but it was someone else's business after all. It wouldn't be good to cause too much of a scene here.
"Don't do anything here."
Sasori glanced helplessly at Deidara beside him.
Deidara's veins were bulging in his forehead, almost visibly. He pulled open the tool pouch under his Akatsuki robe, and one hand was already inside.
"He's insulting art this much, I can kill him, yeah!"
Deidara glared angrily at Moshao. Nineteen years old, he probably hadn't even gotten out of puberty yet.
When it came to art, he got angry easily.
"Well, it's not like you can't, but we still have to go inside after dark."
Hatake Satoru gave Deidara a sly smile across Sasori.
Deidara understood, and threw a pile of small white clay spiders from his hands. Moshao didn't seem to realize that something had been added to his clothes.
After all, the clay spiders were smaller than the diamonds on his clothes.
"What's there to see? Hurry up and get back to work!"
As soon as Moshao finished speaking, Hatake Satoru reached out and wagged his index finger.
Ahem.
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