"You can come down now, old man," Ren called out, his voice cutting through the wind. "Or are you planning to float there until your back gives out?"
High above the tree line, the air shimmered. Slowly, a short, hovering figure descended. It was an old man with a large, bulbous red nose and a thick beard, floating effortlessly.
Onoki, the Third Tsuchikage of the Hidden Stone.
"Sharp senses, brat," Onoki grunted, landing lightly on the snow, though he kept hovering an inch above it to avoid getting his feet cold.
Ren crossed his arms. "What brings you to a missing-nin?"
"I am here to make a deal."
He floated closer, his eyes shrewd and calculating. "In the Second Ninja War, we saw Konoha ninja using miraculous healing tags. But after your... departure... Konoha stopped using them. Their supply dried up."
Onoki narrowed his eyes. "That tells me one thing: You were the one creating them. You controlled the production. So, I just want to buy your product. We have a common enemy, don't we? It's just business."
An hour later, the setting had shifted from a frozen battlefield to a warm, private booth in a high-end restaurant within the neutral zone of the Land of Iron.
Ren sat on one side, flanked by his parents. Onoki sat opposite them, floating on a cushion of air to reach the table's height.
On the wooden table lay two pieces of paper: A Type-1 Healing Tag (Standard) and a Type-2 Healing Tag (Advanced/Regenerative).
"So," Onoki said, tapping the table. "Name your price."
Ren's mind began to race with calculations. Back in Konoha, I sold these dirt cheap to the village. But inflation is a thing... and he is a Kage... maybe I should ask for 500,000 to 700,000 for the Type-2? That seems fair. Maybe push for 750,000 if I'm feeling greedy?
Ren opened his mouth to speak. "I think—"
"10,000 Ryo for the Type-1," Kaori interrupted, her voice smooth and cold as ice. "And 1.5 million Ryo for the Type-2."
Cough!
Satoshi choked on his tea. Ren stiffened, his eyes widening imperceptibly. 1.5 million?! Mom, are you trying to rob him?! He'll outright refuse it!
Onoki didn't blink. He stared at Kaori, his face a mask of stone. Kaori stared back, her dark eyes radiating a terrifying calmness. Neither flinched.
"That is robbery," Onoki stated flatly. "We can pay 3,000 for the Type-1 and 500,000 for the Type-2."
Ren's internal monologue screamed: Yes! Take the money!
"Impossible," Kaori countered instantly, leaning forward. "You clearly don't understand the complexity of the craft. The ink requires materials that are exceedingly rare. The paper itself must be treated with a solution made from fine-grade Chakra Metal dust—which currently costs 6 million per kilogram, by the way."
Onoki knew she was bullshitting. He knew it deep in his bones. But he had absolutely no evidence to prove it.
Ren, keeping a poker face, was sweating bullets internally. Chakra Metal costs 6 million per kg? Did I buy fake Chakra Metal? If I wasn't the inventor, even I would be believing this scam right now!
She gestured to the Type-2 tag. "And the advanced tag requires materials that are a trade secret. If you can't afford, perhaps we should speak to the Kazekage? Or maybe... we sell back to Konoha? I'm sure Hiruzen would pay double to get his hands on these again."
The threat hung in the air. Selling to the enemy.
Onoki gritted his teeth. "I can go to 800,000 for the Type-2. But 1.5 million is absurd."
"1.2 million for the Type-2," Kaori said, not backing down an inch. "And 7,000 for the Type-1. That is the floor. Take it or leave it."
Onoki floated there, weighing the cost of the tags against the cost of losing the war. He looked at the confident smirk on Kaori's face. He knew he was being squeezed like a lemon, but he also knew the value of instant regeneration.
"Fine," Onoki grumbled. "1 million for the Type-2. And 4,000 for the Type-1. And that is my final offer. Push me further, and I walk."
Kaori smiled, a terrifyingly pleasant smile that probably scared the ghosts in the room. "Deal."
"We want 50 Type-2 tags and 3,000 Type-1 tags," Onoki ordered.
Ren did the mental math instantly. 50 x 1,000,000 = 50 Million. 3,000 x 4,000 = 12 Million.
Total: 62 Million Ryo.
Ren sat there, stunned into silence. I think my brain just short-circuited.
Satoshi looked equally bewildered, staring at his wife as if she had just grown a second head.
"It will be completed in a month," Ren managed to say, his voice surprisingly steady despite the internal screaming.
"Can it be done earlier?" Onoki pressed. "The war waits for no one."
"No," Kaori cut in sharply. "One month. There is no room for negotiation on the timeline."
Onoki scowled but nodded. "Very well. How do I contact you?"
"We will contact you," Kaori said, standing up. "Prepare the money."
Onoki floated out of the booth and exited the restaurant without another word. As soon as he was gone, Ren and Satoshi turned to Kaori. Their jaws were practically on the floor.
"Mom..." Ren whispered, terrified admiration in his eyes.
Kaori counted the invisible money in the air with a satisfied grin. "You should always strive to extract money from people like him, because they have a lot of it. And there is still time for the war to end."
Satoshi frowned, rubbing his temples. "But... Kaori... why would they need that many Type-2 healing tags? Are they planning to equip every single attacking Jonin with one? This feels dangerous."
"Whatever they do with it, what do we have to do with that?" Kaori dismissed his worry with a wave of her hand. "Our job was just to sell the tags, and we got a 62 million deal."
Inside Ren's mind, the battlefield of his conscience materialized.
On his right shoulder, a tiny, chubby angel that looked exactly like his father appeared in a poof of white smoke. He adjusted his tiny halo and wrung his hands. Angel-Satoshi: "Son! There is something ethically wrong here! We are fueling a war machine! Think of the geopolitical consequences! We should return the money and live a humble life!"
On his left shoulder, a burst of hellfire erupted. A tiny, chubby devil looking exactly like his mother stepped out, holding a pitchfork in one hand and a sack of cash in the other. Devil-Kaori: "Oh, shut up, you feather-duster! There is nothing wrong! We just need to sell the tags and we will have 62 MILLION RYO! They would not stop the war if you didn't sell them the tags! And Ren, do you know what you can buy with that? You can buy a golden toilet, Ren! A SOLID GOLD TOILET!"
Ren blinked, the image fading. He looked at his dad, then at his mom.
"Don't worry, Dad," Ren said, a crafty glint in his eye. "I'm not stupid. I'll design the tags with a 'backdoor' so they won't be able to use them against us. Call it... warranty protection."
Meanwhile, Onoki flew through the air, heading back toward Land of Earth. He immediately turned to his subordinates.
"Inform the Raikage, Kazekage, and Mizukage," Onoki ordered, his voice grim. "Tell them the delivery is going to take place after one month."