The black market was an offshoot of the Ninja World's infamous Gold Exchange.
A hidden underworld where contracts were bought and sold, shinobi techniques were traded, forbidden materials circulated, and even human lives changed hands.
The Exchange acted like a broker.
In theory, anyone could post or accept a mission. In reality, the missions were assassination contracts, costly, dangerous, and far beyond the reach of ordinary civilians.
Only the desperate or the powerful dared to issue one.
But anyone willing to gamble with their life could try to accept one. That was the true draw.
The Gold Exchange survived because its backers were formidable. Behind it were shadowy ties to the Five Great Nations and their villages. None admitted it openly, but all tolerated its existence.
For the chaos it spread, it also kept rogues and missing-nin somewhat in check, bound by its invisible rules.
For most people, locating a black market tied to the Exchange was impossible. But for Gen, an Uchiha who excelled at illusions prying secrets from loose tongues was almost trivial.
…
North of Shirai Castle lay Shiraishi Town, small on the surface but teeming with danger.
Wandering shinobi, missing-nin, and mercenary samurai drifted through its streets. At midnight, in a quiet corner of the town, a shabby tavern called Scarlet Dream opened its doors.
Wrapped in a black cloak, Gen's shadow clone slipped inside. With a discreet payment, he was shown to a hidden stairwell and descended into darkness.
The tunnel wound on for minutes, then burst open into a scene that seemed impossible beneath the forest.
Lantern light spilled across a makeshift street, lined with wooden buildings.
No signs hung above the doors but only crude markings of what they sold. Weapons, Poisons and Secrets.
Gen wandered like a naive newcomer, flashing too much coin, asking the wrong questions. Within minutes, hungry eyes fixed on him.
Some seasoned killers looked away, unimpressed.
Pretending to be prey in order to lure hunters was a trick as old as blood. But greed was blinding, and more than a few decided to test their luck.
Satisfied, Gen finally left. His shadow clone slipped back into the forest beyond the town. And there, beneath the trees, the wolves who had been circling closed in.
Shuriken hissed from both sides. Samurai burst from cover, blades wrapped in blue chakra arcs. The ambush was sharp, fast, designed to overwhelm before prey could scream.
Gen dropped the coin chest and slammed his palms to the ground.
Earth Release: Earth Formation Wall!
The earth split, rising into four barriers. Thick walls to the front and back, thinner to the sides, just enough to break the storm of shuriken.
His attackers faltered. This wasn't a helpless fool. But greed still urged them forward.
Two samurai pushed chakra into their blades, slicing through the walls in a burst of stone and dust only to find themselves staring into a pair of spinning, scarlet tomoe.
Their eyes widened. Sharingan.
Too late.
They collapsed, ensnared in Gen's genjutsu.
The ninjas from the treeline charged next, leaping over the wall, blades flashing. They avoided jutsu, unwilling to risk burning the prize they thought he carried.
Gen's smile curved sharp as the tomoes spun again. He turned in a slow circle, and the illusion rippled outward.
The four attackers froze mid-stride.
A heartbeat later, their strikes went wild—not at Gen, but into each other. Blades sank into flesh, screams ripping the night apart.
One man staggered back, blood bubbling on his lips. "Damn… Uchiha… despicable…!"
Gen's voice was calm, almost amused. "Shinobi and honor rarely walk together."
…
The others, hidden in the woods, hesitated as the screams rose. Doubt replaced greed. Some began to retreat...
And then the real Gen moved.
From the shadows, he unleashed his technique.
Demonic Illusion: Nirvana Abyss!
Blood-red feathers drifted from the night sky.
One warrior reached out in confusion then froze as terror took hold. Their deepest fears unfolded before their eyes. Screams tore the silence, echoing across the winter forest.
Animals bolted from their nests. A spirit beast, ape-like and newly awakened to thought, sat up in irritation. "Humans. Noisy," it muttered, before covering its ears and curling back to sleep.
By then, the ambushers were collapsing. A few shinobi managed to dispel the illusion, only to be struck down as a silver-white blade lanced from the darkness, lengthening unnaturally as it carved through the night.
Blood sprayed across the snow. Samurai and shinobi alike clutched shattered knees, howling in agony as crimson melted the frost.
Cloaked in black, Gen emerged from the shadows.
Cold and efficient, he finished the harvest. One by one, souls were severed.
When it was done, he summoned Shuryu to burn the bodies. The Viper Gang massacre had been too public, he'd left the corpses intact to spare the innocents nearby.
But here, in the wilderness, there was no need for restraint.
The pattern repeated in town after town. Gen's shadow clones lured, his illusions ensnared, and his blade reaped. Always efficient and merciless.
…
A month later, whispers spread like wildfire. A new name haunted the underworld of the Land of Fire.
The Fishing Night Demon.
In the dark markets, no one spoke lightly anymore.
Black cloaks became a common sight, worn as talismans or warnings. Men who once killed for a coin now hesitated, fearful of becoming the next prey.
In Gen's wake, strange order settled over chaos.
By then, hundreds of shinobi and samurai had vanished into his illusions. Many were seasoned killers, men of reputation.
Now only rumors remained.
Half a year later, the legend began to fade.
The Fishing Night Demon vanished.
…
One month after that, a summons arrived. Through his summoning beast, Orochimaru's message was clear, 'the equipment was ready'.
The next stage of research awaited.
Gen turned back toward Konoha, though he did not hurry.
The journey gave him time to suppress the murderous aura that clung to him like a shadow.
In his travels, more than nine hundred had died beneath his gaze.
Adding the war dead to his tally, his count had crossed a thousand.
He had not yet reached Orochimaru's level, that suffocating killing intent that once froze Sasuke and Sakura in their tracks, but it was there, heavy and undeniable.
To fragile minds, it was enough to break them before a fight even began.
And Gen's path was only beginning.