"You call this a main hall?"
Ye looked at the ruined building before him, less than half of it still standing, and felt his teeth ache.
That blast from the Chakra cannon had hit hard. The front hall's roof and walls had simply evaporated, as if they had been struck by Dust Release.
He walked inside over a carpet of shattered jade and gold leaf. Every step crushed money underfoot.
Crunch.
His shoe ground a thumb-sized piece of jade to dust. The sharp sound grated through the ruins.
Ye's heart ached.
That single step could have fed three Konoha Genin families for a year. What a waste.
The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, but he forced himself not to bend down.
To maintain his cool, aloof image, he moved his foot off the pile of "cash" without a change in expression, pretending he was the sort of ruthless man who treated money like dirt.
But two steps farther in, the stench nearly made him turn around.
Sour wine, rotten meat, cheap face powder, and lime dust came together to grind a Rasengan straight into his nostrils.
Ye rubbed his nose.
If he hadn't had an image to uphold, he would have fired off a Wind Release technique to air the place out by force.
This was where the Daimyō lived?
The mahjong room where the village aunties played had better air!
In a corner, seven or eight Dancing Girls huddled together in nothing but thin gauze, their lips blue from the cold.
Making them wear so little in the dead of winter? The Daimyō was a real bastard.
At that moment, two ANBU had the Daimyō pinned firmly against the gold bricks.
The old fool had gashed his face on the rubble. Blood covered it, and the jade