Bullying the Weak

Tanzaku Street, Sweet Honey Izakaya.

Jiraiya lay sprawling on a genuine leather sofa, hugging two scantily clad, coquettish bunny-ear hostesses.

"Pour the drinks! I'm footing the bill for your entire sales quota today, big guy style!"

"Mmh~ I love little Jiraiya the most." The bunny-ear hostesses pressed against Jiraiya's head from left and right, squishing his face up and down between their cleavage.

Wine bottles were scattered haphazardly across the table, with new ones still being brought out one after another. Jiraiya's hearty laughter echoed through the private room until he finally slumped facedown onto the table with a plop, tightly clutching an old photograph.

The shoji door slid open, and four fierce-looking men wearing eye patches and carrying spiked clubs walked in. They flattened the heavy Jiraiya out onto the floor and had the bunny-ear hostesses search him for valuables.

After rummaging through everything, however, they only came up with a Frog Wallet containing less than twenty thousand ryo.

"How is that possible? Has this old man really spent all his money already?"

A bunny-ear hostess pointed toward the partitioned resting room inside the suite. "There's a boy in there."

The thugs strode over and yanked the door open, setting their sights on Naruto, who was sleeping with his head and feet each resting on a pack of luggage on the tatami.

They squatted down to grab the bags, but after pulling twice they failed to budge them at all; the boy's legs were still weighing them down firmly.

"Are they tied to him?"

"No."

The four thugs separated and tried to lift Naruto's legs, but no matter how hard they heaved, they could not move them.

"That's bloody strange."

Right then, the Naruto before their eyes flickered with a whoosh, instantly shifting from lying flat to sitting up and hugging both bags. He squinted and blinked his reddened eyes, proving that he had indeed just been woken up from his sleep.

The thugs wore ugly smiles that mixed cajoling with threats. "Hand the bags over to your uncles, kid. Your elder ran up a tab and didn't pay."

Naruto deeply treasured his sleep, as it concerned his physical development. Suppressing his irritation, he said, "Bring me the bill."

"You little brat! When you're told to hand them over..."

Bang!

The thug's face was slammed straight into the floor by a single hand, blood flowing everywhere.

"Ah!" The bunny-ear hostesses screamed in fright. "Help! A customer is causing trouble!"

The expressions of the remaining three thugs shifted drastically. They thrust their weapons forward and retreated.

Thud, thud, thud!

Dense footsteps rang out as eight ronin with tattooed arms and samurai swords poured through the shoji door.

"Who's causing trouble!"

Their gazes locked onto the blood on the floor, and they rushed in all at once, surrounding Naruto.

Naruto's eyes slowly lost their patience.

Sometimes he really felt that communicating with this world was truly difficult. Paying for what you consumed was only natural, and he genuinely intended to pay, especially since the young women had worked hard to provide emotional value.

All he asked for was to see the bill.

Why did they have to curse at him and threaten him?

Bullying the weak?

With a smile tinged with anger, he said, "I'll say this one last time: bring me the bill."

Beneath the drinking table, Jiraiya rolled over and let out a loud snore, mumbling drunken nonsense that sounded slurred and unclear.

The ronin leader pulled out a stack of slips, glanced at the wine bottles on the table, scribbled a string of numbers with a flurry of strokes, and turned to show them to Naruto, displaying a demeaning and insulting contempt. "Medical fees plus drinks and service charges."

Looking at that string of zeros, Naruto understood.

These people were no longer ordinary citizens; they were thugs!

Against thugs, you had to throw heavy punches!

His punch flew out while everyone still wore sneering grins and failed to react in time.

The head burst open with a splat, and gore splashed across half the room, painting the ceiling and floor, and staining one frightened, screaming face after another.

The ronin's looks and attire had been so fierce, and their breaking down in panic right then was even more revoltingly ugly than words could describe, but their emotions were real—as real as the tender breasts of a bloody hostess.

And so the bullies who had been so imposing just moments before ran away, fleeing frantically in a fluster of clumsy panic.

Naruto was a bit annoyed; he couldn't sleep properly now.

This place was clearly going to become a noisy mess, so he needed to quickly find a quiet spot to sleep, otherwise he would be drowsy when he woke up tomorrow.

He hoisted the two packs onto his shoulders and walked out.

Jiraiya, who had been snoring just moments before, was already standing. He still reeked of alcohol and his face was flushed red, but his eyes were exceptionally clear.

"Actually, teaching them a lesson was enough. As long as you display overwhelming power, they'll naturally kneel and beg for mercy."

"Such a hassle."

Naruto had zero desire to drag things out with trash. He had initially only intended to pay his bill and go back to sleep, but the trash had rejected his mercy.

"Those who bully the weak should be prepared to be blasted apart by someone even stronger." His pace was fast, and he prepared to make do with just any rooftop or tree he could find.

Jiraiya heard Naruto's extreme rhetoric yet again. He couldn't quite bring himself to wholeheartedly agree, but neither could he find a way to refute it.

He had once solemnly debated with Naruto whether taking lives was truly necessary, but a single sentence from Naruto had completely shut him up.

"Robbery and rape are both crimes. If you can tolerate a robber, does that mean you can also forgive someone if your own family members are raped?"

Jiraiya was a man who, while being a lech, deeply respected the opposite sex.

With the izakaya in complete chaos, the two of them easily walked out and leaped out into the street.

Tanzaku Street, famous as a pleasure district of food, drink, entertainment, and gambling in the Land of Fire, maintained a standing force of patrol guards, many of whom were retired or wandering shinobi.

Right then, a man in a high-collared white trench coat and a bald man in a formal suit and tie jumped down from a neon sign and entered Sweet Honey Izakaya.

The boss greeted the trench coat-wearing man. "Gantetsu-san."

Gantetsu, a retired Chunin from Iwagakure of the Five Great Nations, was currently working security for the underworld.

"What happened?"

"A customer came to have a good time, but in the end didn't want to pay, killed people, and ran off. He should be a shinobi." The boss pointed toward a hostess whose face was pale as she frantically scrubbed at the blood on her chest and face. "Please ask her for the specifics."

Even though the hostess's skin was already fair, she still scrubbed it with all her might, rubbing her flesh a raw, flush red as if she had developed a psychological disorder.

"It was that boy! That boy made a move! With just a single punch, their heads were gone—there was blood everywhere, blood all over the room!"

The bald man looked at Gantetsu. "Boss, I'm afraid it's a shinobi."

Gantetsu nodded. This sort of thing was quite common and hardly counted as a rarity. "I get it. Is there any other news?"

Another hostess spoke up. "That old man was carrying a photograph and looking for a woman, a very pretty woman."

Gantetsu frowned. "Can you draw a likeness?"

"We'll try."

The two hostesses leaned over the front desk, picking up paper and pens. Speaking over one another, they sketched out a portrait after just a moment, with the deep cleavage and the diamond-shaped marking on the forehead standing out particularly clearly.

The bald man recognized it at once. "Boss! Isn't this the fat mark who was carrying a chest of money and gambling at Dalang's gambling house!"

"Yeah." Gantetsu walked into the private room, surveyed the gruesome scene, and inspected the bodies, his expression gradually growing grave.

The attacks were far too decisive and ruthless; even he might not have been able to pull it off.

The boss: "Gantetsu-san, you must catch this vicious bandit! Our shop lost at least several hundred thousand ryo in revenue today alone!"

The bald man: "Don't worry, our boss is the legendary dark ninja!"

Gantetsu turned in silence, stepped out of the izakaya, and said to the bald man, "Nagashi, gather the men. I'll go keep watch over that fat mark first; if they know each other, they'll come looking sooner or later."

"Understood, boss!"

Gantetsu leaped onto a sign, swiftly darted across the rooftops, and finally stopped before a large manor with a curtain hanging over the entrance that read "Cho-han".

He walked all the way inside. The human voices gradually grew boisterous, with people crowding the corridors to watch a gambling room.

The people in the two rows on the left and right inside the room all wore smiling faces, staring greedily at the stunningly beautiful woman draped in a green gambling robe.

The woman knelt on a straw mat, scooped up the dice cup, and shook it with vigorous strength until it rattled loudly.

The two ponytails bound from her beige hair swayed rapidly above her expansive, magnificent breasts.

Finally, she slammed the cup down with imposing momentum, flashed a bright-eyed, white-toothed smile, and shouted, "Place your bets!"