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Chapter 21 - Chapter 21: The Art of the Deal and making Bag.

Finding the shop was easy. JARVIS had it mapped out in like two seconds.

‎Higurashi Weapon Shop. Small storefront on the main strip. Weapons in the window, kunai, shuriken, a few swords that looked like they'd been there for years.

‎I stood across the street, leaning against a wall, watching the door.

‎«The owner's name is Higurashi, he is Tenten's father. In the original timeline, his shop was never mentioned. Here, it exists.»

‎Alternate reality perks I guess.

‎«Indeed. Now transform. We have business.»

‎I ducked into an alley. Closed my eyes. Focused.

‎Poof.

‎When I opened them, I was someone else. Twenty years old looking maybe. Red hair. Casual outfit, black pants, dark green jacket. A face that no one would remember five minutes after looking at it.

‎«Transformation integrity: 100%. Chakra suppression: active. You look like a very forgettable young man.»

‎Yep That's the goal.

‎I walked across the street. Pushed open the door.

‎Ding.

‎A bell announced my arrival.

‎The shop was small. Weapons on the walls. A glass counter with ninja wire and smoke pellets. Behind the counter, a man.

‎Black hair with white streaks. Bushy eyebrows. He was sitting on a stool, doing absolutely nothing. Just staring at the ceiling like he was waiting for something interesting to happen.

‎He looked up when I walked in.

‎"Welcome," he said. His voice was tired. The voice of a man who'd said "welcome" ten thousand times and meant it zero times.

‎I walked to the counter. Leaned on it. Casual.

‎"What are you looking for?" he asked.

‎"What's the price on an explosive tag?" I asked

‎He raised an eyebrow. "Two thousand five hundred ryo. For one."

‎I nodded like I was thinking about it. "hmm, How much profit you make on that?"

‎He tilted his head. "Five hundred. Why you asking?"

‎"Just curious." I paused. Let the silence hang. "What if I told you you could make a thousand profit instead?"

‎He sat up straighter. "A thousand?"

‎"Yeah. I sell you tags for fifteen hundred. You sell them for twenty-five hundred. Material cost is what, five hundred? So you make a thousand. I make a thousand. We both eat."

‎He stared at me for a second. I could see him doing the math in his head.

‎"You're selling explosive tags?."

‎"yeah Good quality ones."

‎"At fifteen hundred a piece?"

‎"Yep."

‎He leaned back. Crossed his arms. "Let me see your work."

‎I reached into my pocket. Pulled out five tags. Laid them on the counter.

‎He picked one up. Held it to the light. Examined the kanji. The brush strokes. The paper quality.

‎His eyebrows went up.

‎"These are... clean."

‎"I take pride in my work."

‎He looked at me. Then at the tags. Then back at me.

‎"Where'd you learn to make these?"

‎"Self-taught."

‎He snorted. "Sure."

‎"I'm serious. Lot of late nights. and Lot of burned fingers."

‎He stared at me for another second. Then he shrugged.

‎"Alright. I'll bite. How many you got?"

‎"I can get you a hundred by tomorrow."

‎"A hundred? Alright I'll buy them, To start. If they sell, I can buy from you more."

‎"Sure" I said.

‎"Hundred tags... fifteen hundred each... that's..." He was doing the math.

‎"A hundred and fifty nine thousand ryo," I said.

‎He looked at me. "You're good at numbers."

‎"I'm good at a lot of things."

‎He laughed. Actually laughed. First time the guy had shown any emotion.

‎"Alright, kid" He stopped. "You're not a kid. Sorry. Force of habit."

‎He doesn't even know.

‎"Alright," he said again. "A hundred tags. Tomorrow. If they're as good as these five, we got a deal."

‎I nodded. Held out my hand.

‎He shook it.

‎I turned. Walked to the door.

‎"Oh," I said, looking back. "Name's Takumi, by the way."

‎"Higurashi."

‎"I know. Your shop's got your name on the sign."

‎He snorted. "Smartass."

‎I left.

‎Ding.

‎---

‎= At The Alley =

‎I ducked into the same alley. Looked around. No one.

‎Poof.

‎Back to being a seven-year-old.

‎«Transaction successful. You have established a business relationship with a legitimate merchant.»

‎I'm a businessman now.

‎«You are a child who sells explosives to a weapons dealer. That is not a 'businessman.' That is a 'person of interest.'»

‎Tomato, tomato.

‎«Those are the same word.»

‎Shut up, JARVIS.

‎---

‎= Around4:00 AM =

‎I woke up before the sun. Created twenty shadow clones. They filled the room like a tiny army.

‎"Here's the deal," I whispered. "Materials are under the floorboard. You're gonna make explosive tags. As many as you can. I'm going back to sleep."

‎One of the clones raised his hand.

‎"Yes?"

‎"Why only we have make them ourselves and you sleep?"

‎"Because I'm tired and I don't wanna."

‎"That's not a good reason."

‎"I'm seven. I don't need good reasons."

‎"plus I am not asking you to pick cotton or something..." ( A/N: sorry if this joke offended some people.)

‎The clones looked at each other. Then they got to work.

‎I went back to sleep.

‎---

‎= At 6:03 AM =

‎I woke up to a clone standing over my bed, holding a stack of paper.

‎"We made a hundred and six," he said.

‎I blinked. Rubbed my eyes. "A hundred and six?"

‎"Materials ran out. Would've made more if we had more paper."

‎I took the stack. Flipped through it. The tags were clean. Consistent. The kanji were sharp.

‎«Quality assessment: 94% success rate. 6 tags showed minor imperfections but remain functional.»

‎I guess That's good enough.

‎The clone nodded. Then he poofed out of existence. Memory hit me. Hours of brush strokes. Ink on fingers. The satisfaction of a clean line.

‎JARVIS. handle This shi.

‎«You will adapt, but I'll still handle the memory feedback of you say so»

‎What do you mean by adapt? A ain't big Raga.

‎«Hmm.»

‎I hid the tags in my bag. Got dressed. Ate breakfast. Went to the Academy like nothing happened.

‎---

‎= After Class =

‎I transformed back into Takumi. Walked to the shop.

‎Ding.

‎Higurashi was behind the counter again. With the. Same tired expression.

‎"You're early," he said.

‎"well yeah I'm efficient."

‎I pulled out the stack of tags. Laid them on the counter.

‎He picked one up. Examined it. Set it down. Picked up another. Examined it. Set it down.

‎"These are good," he said. "Really good."

‎"I told you."

‎He counted them. One by one. Slow. Deliberate.

‎"A hundred and six," he said.

‎"Gave you a few extra. For goodwill."

‎He looked at me. Then he laughed again.

‎"Goodwill. Right." He reached under the counter. Pulled out a pouch. Counted out the ryo. Stacked them on the counter.

‎One hundred fifty-nine thousand ryo.

‎I stared at it.

‎«You are now a wealthy kid.»

‎I'm a wealthy kid... Hell yeahhh.

‎«Do not spend it all on ramen.»

‎Bruh I'm not Naruto.

‎I scooped the money into my bag. Tied it tight.

‎"Pleasure doing business," I said.

‎"Same. Come back when you have more."

‎I nodded. Walked to the door.

‎"Hey," Higurashi called out.

‎I looked back.

‎"You ever need a job, come see me. Legit job. Not just selling me stuff. I could use someone with your... skills."

‎I thought about it. A job. At a weapon shop. Selling things to shinobi.

‎"Maybe," I said. "I'll think about it."

‎Ding.

‎---

‎= Outside the Shop =

‎I walked to the alley. Transformed back. Stood there for a second, holding my bag full of money.

‎One hundred fifty-nine thousand ryo, I just made Bag.

‎«You have achieved financial independence. Congratulations.»

‎Don't say it like that.

‎«Like what?»

‎Like you're congratulating a dog for learning a trick.

‎«You are my user. Not my dog.»

‎That's not comforting.

‎«It was not meant to be.»

‎I started walking home. The bag was heavy. but it was nothing for me.

‎Then I stopped.

‎JARVIS...

‎«Yes?»

‎What if The IRS of this world comes after my ass?

‎«You found it.»

‎That's not believable.

‎«You inherited it.»

‎From who?

‎«A distant relative who died tragically.»

‎That's dark.

‎«It is plausible.»

‎What if they check?

‎«Then you are a seven-year-old with a lot of money and a lot of questions you cannot answer. I recommend not drawing attention.»

‎How do I spend 150k ryo without drawing attention?

‎«Slowly. Carefully. In small amounts.»

‎Nah That's boring.

‎«Financial freedom is boring. Poverty is exciting and terrible. Choose wisely.»

‎I sighed. Shifted the bag to my other shoulder.

‎This is gonna be a pain, but a good one at least

‎«Welcome to wealth.»

‎I walked home. The sun was setting.

‎But for the first time in my life, in either life, I wasn't broke.

‎---

‎END CHAPTER 21

‎A/N: gonna do some time skips later so get your popcorn's ready y'all.

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