Shen Mo looked at Tsunade, recognizing the sincerity beneath her casual invitation. This Sannin was clearly a woman whose nature made her prone to intense gratitude and attachment once her emotional core was reached.
However, Shen Mo simply nodded, his smile polite but firm. "Of course I have a comfortable place to rest. You don't need to worry about me."
"...Right." Tsunade's eyes showed a flicker of disappointment. "It's only natural that a mysterious businessman like yourself wouldn't settle for poor accommodation."
"Then, goodbye for now." Shen Mo gave a final, formal bow and vanished instantly.
He reappeared in a deserted area on the outskirts of Konoha, where he had covertly established a small, private residence using his system's resources—a temporary haven with a comfortable bed and high-speed internet connection (a necessity, even in the Naruto world).
He collapsed onto the plush mattress with a deep sigh. "Finally, a break."
"Meow—" Himuri made a sleepy, pleased sound, burrowing deeper into the soft corner of the pillow and instantly falling back asleep. Even for a cat, sleeping outside was never as comfortable as being home.
"You are a lazy cat," Shen Mo murmured affectionately, using his budding telekinesis to effortlessly remove his traveling clothes and replace them with a comfortable loungewear outfit.
He grabbed a bag of savory potato chips and a tall bottle of his favorite high-sugar soda. His exhaustion wasn't physical, but mental.
He had spent the last day not just as a planner, but as a rapid-fire salesperson, public relations specialist, buyer, customer service representative, CEO, and post-sale consultant. His mysterious, powerful facade hid a mind working at breakneck speed, constantly calculating the next angle.
How can I maximize jar sales?
"When I have more profits, I should seriously consider hiring employees," Shen Mo mused, crunching a chip. "Maybe I could hire someone from the Naruto world? That would require convincing them to 'sell' themselves to the system, which isn't exactly easy."
Though the system prevented him from forcibly controlling a person's consciousness, he could, with their consent, trade their future loyalty or emotional labor for something they desperately desired. It was much cheaper to acquire the necessary traits this way than to purchase a system-generated character of equivalent power.
The person who came immediately to mind as the ideal traveling companion was Konan. Regardless of the path of her friend, Nagato, Konan's loyalty was absolute. She would sacrifice everything for her comrades.
Even though she was currently focused on the massive emotional burden of her powerful, tormented friend, there was a good chance he could lure her into service without malicious intent, simply by leveraging her deep compassion.
"No, I'll deal with that when I meet her," Shen Mo decided, dismissing the thought for now. "The priority is generating capital. Ikaros won't pay for herself."
He reviewed the night's profits: he had sold 490 Tier Two Jars and 10 Tier Three Jars, totaling a sales volume of nearly 18 million Trade Points. His net profit, after accounting for costs, stood at a staggering 14 million Trade Points.
Dr. X's Mutant Telepathy Power is 17 million Trade Points!
He had to buy it. There was no question. Shen Mo decided to temporarily borrow the necessary 3 million Trade Points from his emergency reserve, rationalizing that with his sudden increase in power, the need for a large, static reserve was lessened.
The decision was made, and the purchase was executed instantly.
Shen Mo closed his eyes and felt a monumental shift in his consciousness. Something vast and crystalline seemed to shatter within his mind, the power flowing outwards.
He "saw" the room with a new vision—the texture of the bedsheets, the slight unevenness of the floorboards, the furniture. And dominating this small space was a small, warm sphere of light: Himuri's spirit.
Shen Mo realized that his cat was utterly serene, floating in a profound, peaceful dream state. His enhanced psychic strength allowed him to enter her consciousness, which he perceived as a world filled with endless piles of cat food, floating dried fish, and a massive, warm figure that was omnipresent: Shen Mo himself.
"My cat is certainly loyal," Shen Mo thought, amused, reaching out his psychic hand to gently stroke the soft mental projection of her body.
Himuri's nose twitched in her sleep. Subconsciously, her tiny pink tongue flicked out, licking the place where Shen Mo's physical hand rested on the pillow before she sank back into deep slumber.
Professor X's Telepathic Power was indeed formidable. It wasn't just about reading thoughts; it allowed him to perceive the deepest emotional architecture of any living being. If the original Professor X hadn't been bound by his strict morality, he could have effortlessly ruled the world or manipulated anyone he wished.
Shen Mo, feeling like a child with an exciting new toy, began to test the limits of his new power on his sole, willing test subject.
In Himuri's dream world, he introduced various scenarios: dried fish began raining from the sky. Then, a massive, shadowy black cat suddenly appeared to snatch the bounty. Just as quickly, the owner (Shen Mo's radiant mental avatar) materialized, chasing the black cat away and generously leaving only a few precious dried fish.
Shen Mo watched Himuri's minuscule sleeping expression cycle through delight, aggressive concentration, relief, and then frustrated disappointment.
Heh heh. This was a power that truly played with the core of the heart.
Shen Mo finally surrendered to his exhaustion, the enhanced psychic ability paradoxically calming his mind. He slept soundly until morning.
The next day, he woke up to a psychic disturbance: a membership badge was being deployed.
"Who is disturbing my sleep so early?" Shen Mo opened his eyes. The feeling originated from Tsunade.
I definitely need more employees, he grumbled internally. He couldn't deal with the constant interruptions for simple transactions.
Despite the grumpiness, professionalism took over. He snapped his fingers, instantly revitalizing his body. Himuri expertly hopped onto his shoulder, nestling down with her face buried in his collar to continue sleeping—a result of the chaotic dreamscape he had put her through last night.
"Tsunade, have you already found enough money for a new jar?" Shen Mo mentally projected his voice.
"It's not me," Tsunade's voice replied in his mind. "There is someone else who wishes to purchase a jar."
"Understood... I will be there in a moment."
Shen Mo quickly composed himself, maintaining his distinctively enigmatic smile. He checked his appearance in a mirror and nodded with satisfaction.
Closing the door of his spare room, his figure vanished.
When he reappeared, he was standing next to Tsunade.
And the person standing opposite them was none other than Shimura Danzo.
Danzo stood rigid, one eye and one arm covered by stark white bandages. His face was grave, severe, and cloaked in a white, austere warrior's garb. The notorious scapegoat of Konoha had finally arrived.