Naruto: Rebuilding the Hidden Sand Village

"Hey, kid! Hiccup~"

A man with spiky white hair, draped in a red cloak and visibly drunk with a ruddy face, staggered in front of a vendor stall. He picked up a tightly wrapped package and hiccupped as he swayed on his feet.

"This thing… really got gold dust inside?"

"There might be, sir," Kabuto replied with a calm smile, adjusting his glasses. Even though the man was clearly a drunken mess rather than a serious customer, Kabuto didn't get annoyed. "Whether there's any inside—and how much—that all depends on your luck."

As for whether this guy could actually afford it?

Kabuto didn't care.

In the Fire Country's red-light district, this guy was notorious as a high-rolling guest. The shop owners here on the commercial street were actually hoping he'd show up and throw money around.

He had a reputation for being generous and extravagant. Just recently, he'd booked the largest pleasure house in the entertainment district for ten days and ten nights straight. The red-light girls adored him.

But earlier this morning, he'd been thrown out—probably because he'd finally blown through all his cash.

So today, expecting this broke drunkard to buy anything was… unlikely.

Still, with a spender like that, it was better not to offend him. He could always become a valuable customer again later.

"Standard price, nine hundred and ninety-eight ryō, natural gold dust ore from the Land of Wind, strictly collected by machines, and directly packaged by machines the moment it's collected. The entire process never involves human hands."

Of course, that part was total marketing BS.

But it sounded good enough to prevent people from suspecting any shady tricks.

According to Baki's plan, the first wave of these so-called "Gold Panner Gift Pack" actually did contain a decent amount of real gold dust.

"See the guy across the street selling masks? He bought one yesterday and ended up finding so much gold dust that when he took it to the appraiser, he made 5,000 ryō!"

"Five… hic… thousand?!" the drunk white-haired hedgehog swayed again, casting a glance at the mask vendor across the street—who looked absolutely miserable, slumped over his stall.

"He doesn't seem happy at all."

"That's because he already lost all 5,000 ryō this morning," Kabuto said with a light chuckle, shaking his head. "He got greedy and bought a pirated Gold Panner Workshop kit. It was cheaper, sure, but all he got was sand. Not a speck of gold. Lost everything he had."

That's right. In just two months, fake versions of the Gold Panner kits were already circulating. They were cheap, poorly packaged in plain cloth, and didn't even include any tools for sifting.

Concerned about how it might affect their own brand's reputation, one of the senior Suna jōnin had personally gone with a few other jōnin earlier to deal with the counterfeiters.

Seeing the drunken man still blinking in a daze, Kabuto picked up a [Gold Panner Gift Pack] and continued with his professional smile.

"Take a look here, sir. First, confirm that this is an authentic Gold Panner. The package has an anti-counterfeit seal. No seal? It's fake. Once you unwrap it—see this? These are the official tools for gold panning. This is the real deal, sir. Don't get scammed by cheap knockoffs. Only buy the genuine Gold Panner!"

But…

The spiky-haired drunk didn't seem swayed by Kabuto's pitch. Instead, when his eyes fell on the so-called "anti-counterfeit seal," he suddenly sobered up a bit. His gaze narrowed sharply.

"This… looks awfully similar to an Uzumaki clan sealing formula."

Kabuto froze slightly, though he kept his smile. "Sir… would you like to make a purchase?"

"Buy it? Hell yeah!" The man suddenly slapped ten ryō on the table and thumped his chest with gusto. "Gimme one to try!"

If this thing really used Uzumaki-style seals, then that meant…

There might be surviving Uzumaki clan descendants out there besides Kushina and Nagato?

That… was a huge deal for Konoha.

And as one of the Legendary Sannin—Jiraiya, the Toad Sage—how could he ignore this?

He had to investigate.

"If I find out this is some scam—"

"Sir… that's not enough."

"…Huh?"

Ten ryō for one of these?

Jiraiya's smile froze. Then he forced himself to remain cheerful.

"How much is it?"

"998 ryō."

"Two?"

"No, sir. Nine hundred and ninety-eight."

"…?"

Jiraiya stared at the small cloth-wrapped bundle of sand.

Since when did Land of Wind's sand become so damn expensive?

As for the gold inside? He didn't care about that.

If Land of Wind's sand really was full of gold, then Sunagakure wouldn't be living in poverty all this time.

Still… as the legendary playboy of the red-light district and an adored author, how could he be intimidated by a mere 998 ryō?

He reached into his pockets. Searched. Dug around.

Eventually—

"Sir," Kabuto politely returned a small pile of coins. "This doesn't even add up to 100 ryō. Sorry. The real Gold Panner kit is 998."

"…!"

Jiraiya's face flushed red.

But he was Jiraiya, after all—the Sannin who roamed the shinobi world, trailed by fangirls and missing exes alike. Shame was a foreign concept.

He recovered instantly, grinning from ear to ear.

"How about I buy on credit? Don't worry, kid—I'm the famous author of Make-Out Paradise! I'll bring the cash tomorrow."

He reached out to sneak the kit while speaking.

But before he could snatch it, Kabuto calmly and firmly placed his hand over Jiraiya's and shook his head.

"No credit."

"…Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Not even for 100 ryō?"

"You don't even have 100."

"…If I had 100 ryō, then?"

"Still no."

"…!"

Jiraiya now eyed the smiling, utterly unshakable boy in front of him with newfound seriousness.

This kid… wasn't ordinary.

His limbs had signs of physical training. Calluses on his hands—maybe from field work, or more likely, from weapon training.

His clothes weren't something a farm kid could afford, and there was a slight bulge at his waist—kunai pouch?

Which meant…

"Kid… do you know about the Uzumaki Clan?"

No nonsense. He asked directly.

The moment the words left his lips—

Whoosh~

Kabuto's smile vanished.

He took a few quick steps back and narrowed his eyes.

"…Who are you?"

Meanwhile, somewhere deep beneath Konoha, in a shadowy underground chamber…

"A letter from Sunagakure?" said a middle-aged man wrapped in bandages over his right eye and arm.

He accepted the scroll from his subordinate with a frown, lips curling into a cold sneer.

"Heh… didn't send it to Hiruzen, didn't send it to that brat Hokage either… they sent it to me?"

He could already guess what that Kazekage wanted to say.

But there was no way. No matter what.

Letting foreign shinobi take up residence in the village? Absolutely not.

He—Shimura Danzo—the Darkness of the Leaf, would never allow it. Not for the sake of Konoha, not for the sake of the shinobi world's so-called peace.

Still…

A letter, written directly to him—not to the Hokage or the Third?

That was satisfying. Very satisfying.

He smirked as he unfurled the scroll.

"Well, let's see what you're up to, Kazekage. I'll humor you for a moment…"

But as his eyes scanned the first line…

Danzo froze.

The opening words, written boldly and clearly, struck like a slap to the face:

[Brother—want to get rich?]