A new set of jars—twelve Tier One and one solitary Tier Two—sat before Teuchi, but his attention was elsewhere. His mind was consumed with a newfound, raging ambition. He had a path, a goal: to create the most delicious ramen, to earn more, and to buy more jars. His will had never been so sharply defined.
Shen Mo observed Teuchi and then reflected on the conflict that had just concluded. The Root ninjas—likely Chunin level, with the leader being an elite Chunin or a nascent Jonin—were strong, but not insurmountably so. The Dragon Power had been effective in inducing paralysis and psychological terror, but Shen Mo was under no illusion: it was a parlor trick for low-level engagements.
The full force of the Dragon Power, the initial blast of absolute authority, cost roughly 100,000 Transaction Points (TP) per minute. While sufficient to shatter the resolve of those Anbu agents, Shen Mo knew the limitation: the aura of invincibility only works against those whose fear outweighs their resolve.
A determined Jonin, a veteran Kage, or someone like a crazed, revenge-driven ninja would be able to launch a desperate, all-or-nothing attack even under the pressure. Their focused determination could push them past 100% of their physical limits, rendering the pure psychic pressure a costly distraction.
Finding such a "cheap" solution for continued dominance would not be easy.
Shen Mo made a quick mental calculation. To casually and stylishly crush the Third Hokage in a single encounter—excluding tactics like poisoning, intricate curses, or protracted assassination methods—would require at least three million TP for a one-time use of high-grade consumable artifacts. And that was just for one battle.
If he were to purchase permanent, innate abilities—such as the full potential of Dr. X's mutant ability (Telepathy and Telekinesis)—his current funds would only cover the initial, fledgling potential. Achieving the equivalent of Dr. X's peak mastery would necessitate continuous, rigorous cultivation for at least a decade, or, more simply, upgrading the potential directly using millions of TP. The upfront cost was still prohibitive.
Moreover, the money Shen Mo had left after today's purchases was insufficient to guarantee his safety against a coordinated attack by Konoha's senior ninja forces. The price of maintaining his persona as an invincible, untouchable merchant was high.
"I must maintain my image of absolute invincibility," Shen Mo mused internally. "The deeper the customer's obsession with the jar, the greater the temptation I become. Only an utterly invincible, impossibly mysterious presence can minimize the risk of endless conflict. Before my true, overwhelming strength emerges, fighting is merely a costly financial hemorrhage."
He set a new, immediate goal: 20 million Transaction Points.
"Twenty million," he repeated in his mind. "That is the minimum required safe fund. At that level, the consumable options alone would allow me to retaliate against even a fully operational Uchiha Madara. It is the guarantee of my safety."
Any extra TP earned beyond that 20 million benchmark could then be freely invested in the permanent, long-term growth of his own power. He sighed, the internal calculation briefly dimming his mood.
"When," he thought, momentarily succumbing to an exotic fantasy, "will I finally have enough money to buy an Ikaros?"—referencing the angelic android from the Sora no Otoshimono world, a perfect blend of power and service, capable of planetary defense.
He turned his head and looked at Sasuke.
Sasuke flinched violently at the sudden direct gaze. The sheer terror of the Dragon Power, still palpable in the air, instantly resurfaced in his memory. His heart hammered wildly, his limbs stiffening under the memory of that raw authority.
"My dear little guest, are you considering a jar purchase as well?" Shen Mo asked, his voice returning to its gentle, salesman's purr. He hadn't forgotten the potential goldmine kneeling before him.
Sasuke swallowed hard, but shook his head vehemently. He clenched his fists, his voice low and ragged with conviction.
"I don't want to get stronger just for fun," Sasuke growled, his fear subservient to his core directive. "I want to be strong because I have people to kill!"
His ability to remain on the spot, staring at the man who had terrified him to his very core, was proof of his dedication. For Sasuke, the fear was a necessary cost of his ultimate desire. He was ready to pay any price.
"I want to become stronger," he insisted, looking up at Shen Mo.
Shen Mo sighed softly, a master of emotional manipulation. "That is the most common wish I hear. Many believe strength is the answer to everything."
"Can you grant it?" Sasuke pleaded, his eyes intense. He stared at the mysterious, powerful figure, terrified he would say no.
"Of course," Shen Mo affirmed, his interest piqued. "More often than not, I do not concern myself with why my clients want what they want. As long as the price can be met, anyone may trade their fate with me. So, how much can you afford, customer?"
Shen Mo knew the Uchiha orphan did not possess the entire clan's fortune, but the private estate of his parents alone must have been substantial. More valuable, however, were potential assets like unique ninjutsu scrolls, heirloom artifacts, or perhaps something intangible, like his bloodline itself, though such a trade would require a higher-tier jar.
"I don't know the exact amount. I haven't counted it," Sasuke said, relief making his voice tremble with excitement. "But it can't be insignificant! You must come with me to my home. There must be things other than just money that can be traded!"
His parents had left behind vast wealth, but Sasuke had ignored it, unable to look at anything that reminded him of the past. Now, if this wealth could be exchanged for the power he needed—the power to avenge them—he was certain they would approve.
"Certainly, that is no problem," Shen Mo said, genuine anticipation in his voice. This Uchiha orphan might indeed surprise him.
While the two were discussing Sasuke's wealth, Teuchi, oblivious to the intense, power-driven exchange, had opened the single Tier Two Jar.
Inside, he found a colossal version of the Zhimom edamame, roughly ten times the size of the previous ones.
"The products in the Tier One Jars are often available in the Tier Two Jars," Shen Mo explained, smiling at Teuchi as he finished his own ramen. "The quantities are typically ten times greater, and the quality is slightly enhanced. However, once a customer becomes a formal member, they can no longer purchase the basic Tier One Jars. Those are only intended for initial trials."
This was a calculated move. The lower-tier jars, while cheap, had an unnecessarily high overhead for the system to generate. Upgrading customers to the more profitable Tier Two jars was essential.
Teuchi, far from being disappointed, felt relief. The magical and delicious ingredients in the Tier One selection were now guaranteed in greater quantity.
"And finally, Mr. Teuchi, congratulations." Shen Mo presented a small, shining object. "This is your membership badge. Next time you wish to purchase jars, you simply use this to contact me. If I am momentarily unable to respond, I will reach out to you as soon as I am available."
"Thank you!" Teuchi gripped the badge tightly, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you so much for this opportunity." For a chef whose life was defined by the pursuit of perfection, meeting Shen Mo was the greatest favor he could imagine.
"We look forward to your continued business," Shen Mo replied, accepting the heartfelt gratitude. The fact that he was making a nearly fourfold profit on the transaction was irrelevant; the customer was happy and felt he had received a priceless gift. That was the essence of true customer satisfaction.
Teuchi, now a Silver Member, made a gesture of respect and hurried away, his head already filled with visions of exotic ingredients and culinary experimentation.
Shen Mo stood under the dim glow of the streetlight, a faint, contented smile on his lips as he watched Teuchi go. Then, he turned his full attention back to the boy who remained rooted to the ground.
"Now, young Uchiha, I believe you have something to show me."
That simple smile, in Sasuke's eyes, held a terrible, magnificent charm. The boy, who had just witnessed ultimate power, had transcended mere fear. A frightening, consuming fanaticism had taken root in the core of his being, ready to sacrifice everything for the path Shen Mo represented.
"The golden eyes," Sasuke repeated, his voice barely a breath. "Is the power to crush gods... in a jar?"