"It's settled! It's really settled!"
Like an old child, Ōnoki jumped high into the air, his somewhat chipped Tsuchikage hat hanging crookedly over his forehead.
He clutched a stack of transfer contracts so thick they nearly squeezed his fingers red. His eyes had narrowed into slits from smiling, while the wrinkles on his face resembled parched yellow earth after three years of drought.
These were three major mineral veins in the Land of Lightning. The annual tax revenue alone would be enough to let those poor fools in Iwagakure, who only knew how to squat among rocks and practice Earth Release, eat meat every day.
Unable to contain himself, his joy turned to sorrow.
With a creak, the shabby wooden stool beneath him toppled over from his violent movement.
Ōnoki's balance shifted, and his useless old legs failed to support him. His entire body flew sideways.
"Ow! My back!"
The old man cried out miserably, twisting into a knot in midair before crashing heavily into a pile of gravel beside the training ground that had just been leveled.
"Lord Tsuchikage!"
Several genin sweeping nearby were terrified out of their wits and threw away their brooms.
They rushed over with miserable faces, afraid the old man might actually suffer some serious injury.
If the Tsuchikage threw out his back right in front of them, Lord Yoru's icy expression would probably swallow them whole afterward.
Yoru was standing on the airship's deck, still tossing a small piece of unknown metal in his hand.
Hearing the commotion, he turned around and looked down at the wrinkled figure at the bottom of the pit, a lingering malicious smile on his lips.
"So, old man, is this what they call joy turning to sorrow?"
He scratched his hair, his eyes full of the carefree amusement