Isn't it just the Sharingan? Who doesn't have one?

After the assessment concluded, Uchiha Yu left first.

Time was tight, so he couldn't be bothered chatting about this and that with a bunch of brats.

Feeling the last bit of living expenses he'd earned from the restaurant in his pocket, he headed to the Uchiha Ninja Tool Shop.

When it came to the most profitable shops in Konoha.

Ranking second was Shueido, which sold manga and novels.

Third was Ichiraku Ramen.

And the top spot was permanently held by the ninja tool shop.

Ninjas consumed a huge number of tools—a single Chunin would go through at least hundreds of shuriken in a year.

Such a lucrative business should have had a crowd of competitors.

Strangely enough, there weren't many ninja tool shops in the village.

The cheapest one was the exclusive Uchiha clan shop.

Uchiha Yu had once spent an entire year's living expenses on shuriken just to practice Shuriken Throwing.

He was on good terms with the shop owner and had even run up a tab twice before.

"Yo, it's Yu. What are you buying today?" The shop owner, Uchiha Awa, was a big fat man who greeted Uchiha Yu with full enthusiasm the moment he saw him.

He knew Uchiha Yu had no parents, so he always looked out for him.

"Boss, I don't have enough money. I promise I'll pay you back once I earn some. I want that one."

Uchiha Awa followed Uchiha Yu's finger, turned back to look at the Giant Shuriken hanging on the wall, and twitched his mouth twice:

"You want this? This thing is taller than you. What would you do with it? This is a tool for the clan's Dojutsu Users to wield the Great Sword of Three. It's useless to you."

As he said this, a few more customers walked into the shop.

A group of six, each wearing a headband on their forehead.

The six glanced at the owner first, then started picking out ninja tools.

As for Uchiha Yu, no one paid any attention to a kid like him.

"Boss, I want that. Is that okay?"

"Don't cause trouble. Can't you see all these customers?"

"I'm not causing trouble. I want this. Can I put it on credit?"

Uchiha Awa frowned. "Look at you, kid. I told you, that's for clan members with awakened eyes, to use the Great Sword of Three jutsu with the Sharingan. What do you need it for? And credit? I wouldn't sell it to you even without credit!"

He was clearly getting a bit flustered by Uchiha Yu. The six ninjas all turned their heads.

"S-sorry!" Uchiha Awa quickly bowed ninety degrees.

Uchiha Yu thought it over carefully. "So the reason you won't give it to me is because this thing is meant to be used with the Sharingan's Great Sword of Three jutsu, not because I'm asking for credit, right?"

The owner sighed. "Kid, when you finally awaken your eyes, I wouldn't mind giving you one for free."

Uchiha Yu slapped all the money he had left onto the counter. "No need to give it to me. I'm buying it."

Just then, a short-haired Uchiha with no eyebrows walked up to the counter. "Kid, you're annoying, you know that? Get lost!"

Uchiha Yu naturally wasn't about to leave just like that. He looked at the man, then at the owner, and held out his hand. "I only have this much money now. I'll pay you back in full in ten months."

"Why can't you understand what I'm saying?" The eyebrowless Uchiha was getting angry. He pointed at the oversized Giant Shuriken on the wall. "This thing can only be used if you've awakened your eyes, understand? Get out!"

Uchiha Yu's personality made it hard for him to start trouble.

But after thinking it over carefully, if he wanted to learn jutsu to counter the Uchiha Clan, he'd apparently need some kind of excuse.

Like a conflict with a clan member?

Seeing the kid hadn't moved, the eyebrowless Uchiha got furious!

"Damn brat! Do you even have these eyes?!" A pair of red eyes stared dead at Uchiha Yu!

"Ah! He's just a stubborn child!" The owner, Uchiha Awa, quickly stepped between them, afraid something might actually happen.

"Eyes like these, you might not even have them by the time you're fifty! So drop that ridiculous idea of yours, kid!"

"Don't let a kid like this into the shop again. It ruins my mood!"

"Alright, alright! Yes, yes! Understood, understood!"

He then turned to Uchiha Yu. "Don't make me teach you a lesson in place of your parents. Now get the hell out?!"

Just then, a discordant voice rang out.

"Oh? These eyes that you say can't be had even at fifty—are they these?" He pointed at his own eyes while everyone stared in bewilderment.

In the Queens black community after the rain, the air was thick with dampness and the stench of decay.

The puddles on the street hadn't fully receded yet, reflecting the dim streetlights like a series of broken mirrors, mirroring the exhaustion and helplessness of this neighborhood.

Mixed in the puddles were fallen leaves, trash, and all sorts of nameless filth, which, washed by the rain, gave off a nauseating smell.

These odors blended with the damp soil, moldy walls, and old building materials, creating a unique, unpleasant atmosphere.

The buildings lining both sides of the street were mostly dilapidated, their paint peeling away to reveal the brickwork beneath, like scars etched onto the face of time.

Some windows were shattered, hastily boarded up with planks, and through the gaps one could glimpse the dark rooms inside, as if hiding secrets unknown to the world.

In the corners of the neighborhood, homeless people huddled in rain-soaked cardboard boxes and tattered rags, their eyes hollow and lost, as if long accustomed to being forgotten by the world.

Children splashed in puddles, their laughter echoing through the empty streets, yet it could not mask the decay and decline of this community.

Stephen Fang, walking with a bottle of iced cola in hand, clicked his tongue in disdain at the group of black thugs loafing around.

Who said the moon was rounder over here?

Wasn't it the same?

He passed by a Gun Shop and arrived at the Chinese Supermarket next door.

As soon as he entered, the shop owner, Auntie Li, greeted him.

"Little Fang, you found a job, right?"

"Ah, don't even mention it! The burger joint's kitchen doesn't want me either. A new 'immigrant' showed up—only wants room and board, no salary. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

"Tsk, that's how it is for us Chinese," Auntie Li said with a helpless bitter smile. "How about this: in a couple of days, when my niece leaves, you can stay upstairs temporarily."

"No way." Stephen Fang immediately shook his head. "I've already stayed long enough before. Don't worry about me—I'll survive~"

"Alright then, take a look at what you want to eat. Auntie's treat."

"Then I'm grabbing the Maotai!"

"You little rascal."

As the two chatted, three black youths pushed open the door and walked in.

The three looked around the store, especially at the security camera, deliberately pulling their hat brims lower.

With that kind of behavior, anyone with eyes could tell what they were about to do.

No one who ran a supermarket in a black neighborhood had bad eyesight.

Auntie Li immediately reached for the alarm button.

"Don't move!"

A pitch-black gun barrel pointed at the counter. "If you dare—"

Before the man could finish his sentence.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

The pistol clattered to the ground as his wrist gave way from the pain. The two accomplices beside him stared at the guy in confusion.

Stuck in his wrist, out of nowhere, was a dusty compass.

[3$]

The price tag on that compass hadn't even been peeled off yet!