"It's a pleasure to work with you!"
"It's a pleasure to work with you!"
After the deal was completed, both parties shook hands with great enthusiasm. Their faces were lit up with excitement, each thinking they had struck gold.
Peter believed that if the rich man spent five hundred million on him, the commissions he'd receive would be astronomical. That kind of money could keep his business running for years—and perhaps even elevate it to another level. He was already imagining a lavish life filled with luxury and status.
On the other hand, the wealthy client felt like he had struck the biggest bargain of his life. He had just bought an entire stockpile of firearms for half a billion. With this arsenal, every single one of his gang members would be fully equipped with an assault rifle. That kind of firepower was unheard of in the underworld of the Fire Nation.
He could already imagine the impact—his gang would be transformed from a back-alley syndicate into a military-grade powerhouse. The day was coming when his crew could challenge any group in the Fire Nation. Perhaps even dominate them all.
Peter had once confidently told him that an assault rifle's firepower was far superior to that of the Desert Eagle he always carried on his waist. Although the rich man didn't fully understand the technical aspects of the rifle, he had personally witnessed what the Desert Eagle could do. That was proof enough.
Just yesterday, after leaving Peter's shop with excitement, he had rushed back home to count his wealth. As he entered his private vault, ready to marvel at his riches, something unexpected happened.
Out of nowhere, a shadowy figure emerged in front of him.
This person didn't speak—he launched a direct attack without warning!
Fortunately, the rich man had lightning-fast reflexes. He pulled out the Desert Eagle from his waist and fired without hesitation.
The bullet tore through the attacker's arm, causing him to stagger and flee instantly.
The rich man remembered it vividly—the moment the bullet connected, the mysterious figure's composure cracked, and he vanished without a trace.
He wasn't a ninja, but he wasn't clueless either. He could tell that his assailant wasn't some ordinary thug. The guy moved with speed and strength that could only belong to someone of Elite Jōnin caliber.
But even someone at that level had been forced to retreat by a single shot from the Desert Eagle.
Now imagine—if that was the power of a Desert Eagle, what could an assault rifle do?
That thought thrilled him to the core. Assault rifles were more powerful, more rapid, more relentless. They were the future of warfare in the ninja world, and he had just bought three hundred of them.
The rich man began to fantasize. With these weapons, he would overthrow the Daimyo of the Fire Nation. His gang would crush the ninjas of Konoha beneath their boots. He would reshape the entire power structure.
"Hahaha! Boss Peter, I'll be heading off now!" he said, slinging two Desert Eagles around his waist and hanging an assault rifle proudly on his chest.
"Boss, you must come again!" Peter responded, holding the man's hand tightly with a broad smile.
"Don't worry, boss. I'll definitely be back to spend more when I make more!" the rich man promised, returning the gesture with equal enthusiasm.
"That's wonderful news!" Peter nodded with deep satisfaction.
He watched the rich man board the luxurious carriage and added warmly, "Boss, do be careful on the way!"
With pride gleaming in his eyes, the rich man tapped the assault rifle hanging in front of him. "With the weapons provided by Boss Peter, who in the ninja world can stand against me?"
"Haha, that's right!" Peter laughed heartily in agreement.
Indeed, when considering the entire ninja world, only the Akatsuki organization could be seen as a true threat to this newly empowered gang. No one else could compare.
Three hundred assault rifles firing in unison—such a barrage could decimate even a squad of well-trained ninjas. In the end, no matter how advanced ninja arts might be, ninjas were still carbon-based lifeforms.
And firearms were the great equalizers in this world.
Except for the absolute elite among ninjas, most would be reduced to lifeless bodies in front of modern weaponry.
Peter gazed at the carriages vanishing into the distance and murmured to himself, "With these rifles in hand, perhaps he really can change the future of the Fire Nation…"
---
On the border of the Fire Nation
"Senior, is that store you mentioned really as good as you say?" asked Uchiha Shisui, his tone full of curiosity.
Uchiha Obito nodded confidently. "Of course. We're almost there. You'll see for yourself soon," he said, quickening his pace.
Suddenly, Obito stopped walking.
He raised a hand to signal silence, his expression turning serious. He listened carefully.
After a few moments, his ears twitched. A sound—faint but rhythmic—traveled through the trees.
"Tap tap tap."
"Horse hooves!" Obito exclaimed with sudden excitement, a gleam of greed flickering in his eyes. "There's a caravan nearby. This could be a huge score!"
His eyes burned with desire, as if he could already see piles of gold and jewels waiting to be taken.
Without another word, Obito dashed toward the direction of the sound. His body moved like a shadow, weaving through the dense forest at breakneck speed.
Caravans often transported treasures—merchandise worth millions, sometimes tens of millions. To Obito, this was an unexpected windfall, an irresistible opportunity.
"To think we'd run into such luck on the way to Peter's store! The heavens are smiling upon us today!" he laughed.
"Senior, wait for me!" Shisui shouted, trying to catch up.
After a brief sprint, Obito saw several large carriages ahead, ornately decorated with gold trim and heavy lacquered wood.
His heart raced. "With carriages that fancy, the owner must be loaded!"
"Senior, what exactly are you planning to do?" Shisui asked, slightly uneasy.
Obito threw him an annoyed glance. "Isn't it obvious? Robbery!"
Shisui was stunned. He had admired Obito as a powerful, respectable shinobi—he never imagined someone like him would resort to banditry.
His worldview was momentarily shaken.
"You stay here and keep watch. I'll handle the rest," Obito said in a low voice.
"Uh... alright…"
Without hesitation, Obito ran up to the carriage and knocked out the coachman with a swift strike.
Inside the lavishly furnished carriage, the rich man was lovingly polishing his new assault rifle. Every part gleamed under the sunlight, and he admired it like a priceless treasure.
Suddenly, a noise outside made him freeze.
He instinctively raised the assault rifle and aimed toward the door. His gut told him something was wrong.
The curtain was suddenly pulled aside, and a man stepped in.
"Robbery. Hand over your money and I'll let you live," Obito said coolly.
But as his eyes fell upon the rich man, he froze. Recognition dawned.
The rich man's eyes lit up. "Hahaha! It's you? Then prepare to die!"
Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger.
Obito's pupils contracted sharply. The weapon in the man's hand was not just any iron lump—it was the real deal.
In that moment, only one thought raced through his mind: It's over.
"Da-da-da-da-da-da!"
The muzzle of the assault rifle flared as a hail of bullets erupted. The sound was deafening, the speed terrifying.
"Puff, puff, puff!"
Obito gasped as multiple bullets tore into his body. Pain exploded in waves. Blood burst from his wounds.
Desperate, he activated his Mangekyō Sharingan and escaped into the Kamui space.
---
Inside the Kamui dimension
Obito collapsed onto the ground, his body trembling.
His stomach was riddled with holes—raw, gory craters that oozed blood without pause.
His face had turned the color of ashes, lips quivering as he stared into the void.
"Damn it… That iron lump is even stronger than I thought…" he muttered, coughing up blood.
He tried to raise his hand to cover one of the wounds, but his arm was shaking too badly. Blood continued to pour out, staining the ground beneath him.
If it weren't for the regenerative properties of Hashirama's cells within his body, he would have already bled to death.
Even now, despite the healing, he could feel the life draining out of him.
His vision blurred.
His strength was vanishing.
He realized he was on the edge of death.
"If I don't find help soon… I won't make it," he thought in despair.
Øóffer going on for diamond tier
pàtreøn (Gk31)