The thick, suffocating mist that had enveloped the bridge slowly began to thin and disperse, a direct result of the kinetic power radiating from Haku's activated wind-attribute Special Equipment. Zabuza, however, was no longer focused on maintaining the tactical advantage of the fog.
Every eye on the bridge, friend and foe alike, was now fixed on Naruto. The sheer recklessness of the boy, gripping the Membership Badge and attempting to summon the merchant in the middle of a life-or-death confrontation, was stunning.
Even Dazna, utterly ignorant of the Jars and Trade Points, felt a profound, psychic shift in the atmosphere—as if the very rules governing this battle had been suspended by a far greater, unseen force.
Naruto seemed oblivious to the immense tension he had created. He held the badge outward, activating it before the assembled combatants.
"You suicidal brat, are you mad?!" Zabuza hissed under his breath, a faint thread of genuine panic running through his voice. It was too late to stop the connection.
A moment later, a calm, impossibly friendly voice emanated from the silver hexagonal device.
"Ah, Naruto. What's the trouble? Are you looking to purchase a new set of jars right now?"
The entire bridge plunged into an eerie, total silence.
Zabuza's forehead instantly beaded with cold sweat. If there was one entity in this world he feared losing the favor of, it was Shen Mo. The merchant represented not only an absolute, reality-bending power but also the irreplaceable key to his future—the funding source for his ultimate, blood-soaked dream. In a world with no consumer protection laws, offending the proprietor meant eternal powerlessness.
"Hiss—" Zabuza couldn't help the sharp intake of breath. The utter, unthinking audacity of the child was terrifying.
Kakashi offered a faint, weary smile beneath his mask. Naruto, for all his hero worship, possessed zero innate respect for power—a trait that made him dangerous.
Though Shen Mo's voice had paused, the silence was not a diplomatic waiting period. It was a pressure; a profound, palpable acknowledgment of the merchant's absolute seniority.
One does not lightly accuse a deity of poor business practices.
"Zabuza is there with you, isn't he?" Shen Mo's voice resumed, slow and conversational, utterly relaxed. "Excellent. The issue is not who I favor, but the principle of the commerce itself. All right, I shall appear."
These words—calm, casual, and utterly final—sent a jolt of alarm through everyone present.
Zabuza instantly snapped to attention, his muscles tight as he straightened his spine, adopting the posture of a soldier awaiting inspection. Haku instantly melted back to his side, his elegant, armored form radiating tension. Sasuke, though injured and furious, nervously scanned the bridge, gripping the broken hilt of his sword. That man could materialize anywhere.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound of hard, leather boots hitting the concrete captured their attention. Everyone, including the stunned Dazna, turned toward the end of the bridge.
A figure slowly emerged from the rapidly dissipating mist.
He was impeccably dressed, radiating a youthful, almost scholarly air, with a serene smile on his face. Hiju, the sleek black cat, rested on his shoulder, and he carried a short, polished staff in his hand.
His presence was not physically overwhelming, yet it carried an indescribable gravitas—a natural, perfect harmony that suggested the reality around him was merely a backdrop for his existence.
"Indeed, everyone is present."
Shen Mo's trademark, enigmatic smile broadened slightly as his gaze swept over the group. The tone was placid, yet it bore a psychological weight that pressed down on all the shinobi.
Zabuza and Haku immediately dipped their heads in profound deference.
"We sincerely apologize for bringing our dispute before you, Administrator," Zabuza said, his voice unusually subdued and respectful.
Of all the individuals present, these two rogue ninja understood the brutal finality of power most acutely. Their entire existence was a testament to the pursuit of strength, and before Shen Mo, their hard-won power was barely a footnote.
The crisis, the despair, the overwhelming threat of Zabuza—all of it could vanish instantly if Shen Mo merely gave an order. Such was the influence of a cosmic, high-ranking entity. Dazna looked on, mouth agape, his hope surging wildly.
But Shen Mo casually raised the short staff in his hand. "As I have maintained, your activities do not concern me."
Zabuza let out a silent, massive breath of relief. His greatest fear—that the merchant would side with the 'heroes' out of sentimentality—was dispelled. He was free to continue his path.
"But, Uncle Jar!" Naruto interjected, his voice carrying an unconvincing tone of betrayal and surprise. "They want to kill Dazna-ossan! He is the hope of his entire country! How could you sell Jars to people like them... to people who want to destroy hope?"
Naruto's worldview was simple: the merchant was a purveyor of 'hero's tools,' an enabler of destiny. To see the same tools sold to the clear antagonists was a catastrophic moral failure in his eyes.
Shen Mo's smile widened, taking on a subtle, amused quality.
"It seems, Naruto, you harbor a profound misunderstanding concerning my existence."
Shen Mo's dark, deep pupils turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over every person present, his voice sinking deeper, resonating in their very cores.
"I am the Administrator for the Omniscient and Omnipotent Chamber of Commerce. I traverse the infinity of worlds, selling Jars to those whose souls burn with the fierce desire to change their fate, offering them the means to rewrite their narrative. But our defining mandate is this:"
His voice resonated with chilling neutrality, a fundamental truth of the cosmos.
"—Destiny is inherently amoral, and the will to change it is universal."
"Naruto, you desire to be a hero. But those 'villains' you speak of—they are also desperately struggling to change their fates. Their will to achieve their ambition is not weaker than yours; in many cases, it is forged in a crucible of pain that makes it infinitely stronger!"
Naruto opened his mouth, his simple, black-and-white conviction momentarily overwhelmed. He lacked the complexity to process this absolute, amoral truth.
"Zabuza," Shen Mo turned his gaze entirely to the rogue ninja. "What is the price you would pay for the dream that consumes your heart?"
"...Everything," Zabuza declared, his brown eyes locking fiercely onto the young boy who represented the purity of Konoha's destiny. His voice was calm, but the resolve in his eyes was absolute. "There is a task that must be completed. No matter the cost—even the forfeiture of my life or my soul—it will be achieved!"
The merchant has clarified his position, turning the confrontation into a moral and existential test.