Under the crushing Dragon Power, time seemed to warp. It wasn't the physical flow of moments that slowed, but the sheer, agonizing duration of the mental freeze that paralyzed the Root agents. They were trapped in a crystalline moment of pure, undiluted terror.
Shen Mo stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back. Himari, on his shoulder, was instinctively curled into a tight, uncomfortable ball, sensing the massive expenditure of energy and the raw, untamed force emanating from her master.
At the peak of the aura's projection, Shen Mo subtly lifted his gaze, looking far past the buildings and into a specific direction, as if he sensed a slight, almost imperceptible intrusion.
In Konoha Tower, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, jolted upright in his chair. His body was tense, his aged muscles coiled in instinctive fear. In the crystal ball, which served as his window via the Telescopic Technique, he saw only the twin suns of the merchant's golden eyes.
More than the Nine-Tailed Fox... No. More terrifying than even the First Hokage at full strength!
The psychic pressure was so profound that the smooth surface of the crystal ball, designed to endure immense chakra fluctuation, suddenly spiderwebbed with cracks, unable to withstand the exotic, primal force. With a soft tinkling sound, it exploded into fragments.
Hiruzen was left staring at the empty space where the sphere had been. He panted, leaning heavily on his desk. He knew he would never forget those eyes; the pure, unadulterated power they projected had burned itself into his very soul.
What was that? Was it a sophisticated ocular Jutsu? No, it felt older, a power so vast it transcended the familiar boundaries of ninja techniques. He realized with chilling certainty that allowing Danzo and his Root agents to interfere tonight had been a catastrophic miscalculation. This businessman was not an agent to be captured, but a force of nature to be placated.
With deep concern etched into his face, Hiruzen turned away from the fragmented crystal and spoke into the darkness of his office.
"Summon Danzo. Immediately."
A whisper of displaced air was his only answer as a loyal attendant vanished into the night.
When the distant feeling of being watched finally vanished, Shen Mo slowly pulled back his focus. The drain on his Transaction Points was significant—around 100,000 points per minute for the full-strength Dragon Power. He gradually reduced the intensity to a subtle, lingering fear—about 10,000 points per minute—just enough to keep the Root agents subdued and utterly terrified.
The Anbu were still frozen, kneeling and trembling uncontrollably, unable to process the fear that had been so savagely carved into their very core. The power of the "Dragon" was simple: it spoke the universal language of hierarchy, forcing every cell in their bodies to acknowledge their utter inferiority.
Only Sasuke, propelled by his overriding, fanatical hatred and singular ambition, managed a tortured crawl. Slowly, painfully, he pulled himself into a kneeling position, his head bowed. When he finally forced his eyes up, they were wide with terror, but beneath the fear, a terrifying flicker of fanaticism burned.
Such a powerful being, such incredible power! I must have it! I will definitely defeat that man, Itachi, with power like that!
His desire had been tempered in a furnace of fear, making it stronger, purer.
Shen Mo paid them no mind. He looked toward the adjacent street and smiled. He raised his hand and waved it dismissively, as if sweeping dust. All the paralyzed Root agents, along with their weapons and gear, were lifted by an invisible force and gently deposited, out of sight, down the narrow alleyway. The street was instantly clean.
"Mr. Shen Mo!"
Teuchi was back. He looked slightly disheveled but utterly relieved to see Shen Mo still standing outside his shop, completely unfazed.
"It's fine," Shen Mo chuckled, shaking his head. "When a business transaction is pending, I don't mind waiting."
"Mr. Shen Mo is too kind." Teuchi was genuinely touched by the merchant's perceived patience and loyalty, completely oblivious to the psychic battle that had just transpired a few meters away.
Sasuke, still trembling slightly, could only twitch his mouth. Kind? This was a monster that could crush an entire Anbu squad with a glance. Only his deep-seated compulsion for power allowed him to remain nearby.
"Alright," Shen Mo motioned Teuchi back inside the shop and sat down comfortably. "So, how many sets of jars do you wish to purchase this time?"
The cost of the Dragon Power was an expected business expense, but Shen Mo was keen to recoup the Transaction Points.
"Mr. Shen Mo, this is everything I have saved over the past few decades." Teuchi handed over a small, heavy wooden box without regret, his eyes fixed with a desperate eagerness on the merchant. "A total of one million two hundred thousand Ryo. In addition to the remaining twelve sets of Tier One Jars, I hope to purchase one set of Tier Two Jars!"
Shen Mo's eyebrows rose slightly. 1.2 million Ryo was substantial—over 600,000 Transaction Points. Considering the Dragon Power had cost him around 200,000 to 300,000 points in total (brief full power, then sustained low power), he was set to make a profit.
"That is sufficient," Shen Mo confirmed. He took the money, and the twelve new Tier One Jars and the single Tier Two Jar materialized before the chef. "Mr. Teuchi, you have now completed the purchase of twenty-two Tier One sets. You are officially recognized as a Silver Member of the Omniscient and Omnipotent Chamber of Commerce. You may now contact me at any time."
Teuchi swelled with pride. He was an official member!
"I must give you a piece of advice, Mr. Teuchi," Shen Mo continued, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Do you know how my previous chef client became a Gourmet Hunter and afforded his later, more powerful jars? He started with less money than you."
"I assume through expanding his ramen business?" Teuchi suggested, laughing. "There's little else a dedicated chef focuses on besides their craft and making money from it."
"That is true, but incomplete," Shen Mo replied with a mysterious smile. "In this Chamber of Commerce, I can trade directly for value, not just currency."
Teuchi blinked. "Trade for value? What kind of value could a chef possibly offer besides money?"
"For a chef," Shen Mo explained patiently, "the most valuable thing is, naturally, the delicious food they create. As your culinary skills improve, you will be able to trade three things with me: amazing new dishes, valuable new recipes, and unheard-of ingredients that you harvest or develop."
Shen Mo's system processed value instantly. If the Konoha government printed excessive money, causing hyperinflation, the exchange rate of the Ryo to Transaction Points would plummet. Thus, Shen Mo could not rely solely on fiat currency.
"The value of your creations is assessed fairly by the Chamber," Shen Mo assured him. "You create an amazing new flavor, you earn Transaction Points, and you buy more jars. This way, you don't have to worry about running out of money. You just need to focus on getting stronger and creating better food."
This was the core of Shen Mo's sustainable model: the exploitation of talent. The wealthy elite were reliable customers, but the creators—the chefs, the ninjutsu developers, the scientists—could perpetually generate new Transaction Points through their labor and genius, which Shen Mo could then harvest through the lure of the jars.
In other words, Shen Mo thought, a subtle, cold glint in his eye, all the world's elite creators will ultimately be working for me.