Ōnoki Was Meant to Take the Blame

Hearing this, the shopkeeper's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and a sheen of greasy sweat seeped from his forehead.

He tremblingly reached out, grabbed a gold brick, stuffed it into his mouth, and bit down hard.

A light bite left a tooth mark. No doubt about it—it was genuine official gold!

"C-customer, please don't toy with me."

The shopkeeper wiped the cold sweat from his brow with his sleeve. The hardness on his face had long vanished, leaving only uncontrollable trembling.

"The official watchdogs are watching closely. If I empty out the warehouse, and those above blame me for it, I'll lose my head..."

"Five times."

Obito casually spoke two words, cutting off his excuses.

The shopkeeper's knees went weak, and he had to clutch the counter tightly with both hands to keep from collapsing.

Five times... fortune favored the bold. This money was already enough to buy his life.

"The entire island's stockpile. Saltpeter, sulfur, Chakra fuses, even fulminating paper. If it has anything to do with Explosive Tags, I want all of it."

Obito put away his folding fan and lightly tapped the gold chest with his fingertips.

"Also, I want to sign a long-term exclusive agreement with you. From now on, not even a scrap is to make its way into Kirigakure official hands."

Looking at the pile of gold before him, enough to buy half the island, the last trace of fear toward the authorities was crushed beneath bone-deep greed.

"Deal! We have a deal!"

The shopkeeper put on an almost fawning smile, then turned and roared toward the rear courtyard.

"What the hell are you all standing around for?! Get to the cellar! Move every last box out here! Now!"

In less than the time it took to burn an incense stick, seven or eight carts