Eastern port, Moonwave Town.
Mikoto finished the job in half an hour.
The proprietor of the largest local trading house was called Saburo. In his forties, he was so shrewd that even his eyebrows curved with calculation. He had originally intended to knock ten percent off the price during inspection, claiming, "Long-distance transport inevitably means losses. Small business, you know."
Mikoto opened every crate and inspected the goods right in front of him.
One hundred and twenty mass-produced explosive tags, all with identical power ratings and intact sealing matrices. Sixty portable medical scrolls, with chakra guidance precision a full tier above those currently on the market.
"Show me which ones were damaged."
Saburo's smile froze for a moment.
Mikoto gave him no chance to recover and slapped the Senju Trading Company's long-term supply agreement onto the table. "One-year exclusive agency contract, monthly settlement. Bulk discounts, but on one condition—every ninja tool retail channel within fifty miles of Moonwave Town sells only our goods."
Saburo flipped through the agreement, then looked up at Nawaki, who stood in the doorway gnawing on grilled squid.
Nawaki grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.
Saburo had no idea what that twelve-year-old boy's thumbs-up meant, but his instincts told him one thing—he could not afford the consequences of refusing that agreement.
Signature. Seal.
Mikoto put away the contract, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly.
Nawaki walked over with the squid skewer still in his mouth and patted her shoulder. "Good work, chief shopkeeper."
"Not really." Mikoto stuffed the contract scroll into Nawaki's arms. "When that guy tried to cut the price, I almost wanted to slam my sword on the table."
"But you held back?"
"I held back."
"You've improved."
Mikoto glared at him.
"Free time for the rest of the day!"
Nawaki announced