Chapter 17: Black Market Deals

"The air in this world always feels slightly oppressive," murmured Shin, pulling his hood tighter. Though the sun shone brightly, an ominous, gloomy atmosphere lingered around him.

He might not have noticed if he hadn't experienced the world of One Piece. But after knowing the playful chaos of that world—even the villains there had an almost comical stupidity—the dark and scheming air of the Shinobi World was unmistakable. Here, everything was laced with caution and treachery.

'A place full of hidden agendas,' he thought, dismissing the impression as he examined a scroll of black-market locations his father had left him.

The world of clandestine dealings wasn't new to ninjas. Even those from the major villages would occasionally take up black-market contracts. Rivalries between missions sometimes led to the death of other ninjas, and while one's own village might not reward such kills, bringing a head to the black market often paid well.

"Why do they always set up near the stench of a back alley sewer?" Shin muttered, covering his nose.

This was no coincidence; the smell of decay helped mask the scent of blood from the dealings. Even ninjas accustomed to the sights and sounds of the underworld would grumble at the atmosphere here.

Stepping into the shadowed entryway, he approached the counter where the black-market boss sat. Shin tossed a small pouch onto the counter, loosening its drawstring just enough to let a glint of gold shine through.

The boss's bored expression brightened instantly as he scooped up the bag, feeling its weight with satisfaction.

"How can I assist you, honored guest? Are you looking to place a bounty or perhaps need some intel?"

"Neither. I'm here to purchase some ninjutsu scrolls," Shin replied in a low voice.

"Ninjutsu, is it?" The boss looked momentarily surprised, though he quickly recovered. "You've come to the right place. We have a variety of general techniques—nothing that belongs exclusively to any village or clan, of course. But rest assured, we have a solid selection. However, the cost..."

"Price is not an issue. Just show me your entire catalog." Shin's confidence came from the ample gold he'd acquired in Drum Kingdom. In terms of ninja-world currency, he had amassed hundreds of millions of ryo—more than enough for the standard B-rank scrolls.

The boss smiled widely, handing over a catalog filled with available jutsu. Shin scanned the pages, taking note of the types and prices: mostly elemental B-rank jutsu, along with some generic A-rank ninjutsu. Some powerful C-rank jutsu, like the Hidden Mist Jutsu, were notably absent, but he hadn't expected otherwise.

After a quick review, he selected techniques totaling around 30 million ryo, the priciest of which was the Mystical Palm Jutsu, priced at ten million ryo.

"When can these be ready for me?" he asked, returning the catalog.

"Three days," the boss replied, still grinning. "If you'll return then, I'll have them prepared."

Shin nodded, pulling his hood up as he turned to leave. "The gold just now is worth roughly one million ryo—consider it a deposit."

"Very well, sir." The boss's smile widened. This gold deposit would convert to currency at a profitable margin, a bonus he wouldn't need to report to his superiors.

Shin walked out, noticing immediately that a few shady figures trailed behind him. The boss watched him go, then sighed, muttering, "Hopefully, the guest will return. I'd hate to lose that final payment."

In the black market, direct robbery attempts on customers were generally discouraged; the risk of ruining their reputation far outweighed any potential bounty. However, the bounty ninjas on Shin's trail didn't abide by those norms.

Shin felt their presence but didn't worry. His current strength easily rivaled that of an elite Jonin, the kind you'd find in a village like Konoha. He could handle himself well against low-level bounty hunters.

'No point in feigning caution,' he thought as he walked three kilometers away from the market, the distance at which market rules allowed open combat. Behind him, his pursuers—bounty ninjas eager for profit—could no longer contain themselves.

Their impatience was understandable. Greed, combined with Shin's youthful appearance, had likely led them to underestimate him as a mere Chunin or, at most, a Special Jonin.

With a slight grin, Shin prepared himself. 'Time to teach these amateurs a lesson.'

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