Chapter 6: Ninja Cat Contract, The Way of the Ninja
After finishing dinner at Obito's house and listening to him ramble about the advice his beloved teacher Minato had given him, Uchiha Takanotsume said his goodbyes and left.
Takanotsume and Obito had become acquainted because Obito's grandmother lived next door. She'd often drop by to chat, and over time, they'd grown close.
Unlike other Naruto characters, Takanotsume felt safe maintaining a relationship with Obito.
After all, Will of Obito—those in the know, know.
No matter how deep their bond, it wouldn't stop Obito from stabbing him in the back after going dark.
After leaving Obito's place, Takanotsume slipped his wallet into his pocket and strolled through Konoha's streets.
The shadow of war hadn't fully spread to the civilian circles yet, and on the surface, Konoha still basked in a peaceful, serene glow.
But signs were starting to show.
Takanotsume pushed aside a curtain and stepped into a ninja tool shop.
"Yo, Takanotsume-bro, here for more explosive tags?" The shopkeeper, sporting a bushy mustache, grinned at him.
"Nah, this time I'm buying shuriken."
"Well, you're out of luck—shuriken and kunai prices are up 20%, specialty wire's up 30%. But I'd suggest stocking up. Word from Granny Cat is these essentials are gonna keep climbing."
"Alright then, give me six sets of ninja tools with wire holes, two big rolls of wire, and one sealing scroll. Let's see… I've got 200,000 ryō left—convert it all to explosive tags." Takanotsume patted his wallet, flashing a grin, not a hint of reluctance.
D-rank missions typically paid 5,000 to 10,000 ryō—some as low as a few hundred, but Takanotsume never took those. Plus, since he worked solo, he didn't split the rewards.
A year of grinding had left him with a seven-figure savings.
And he'd saved it all for this moment.
"Whoa, Takanotsume-bro, big spender!" The shopkeeper's eyes widened. Takanotsume's purchasing power rivaled even some special jōnin.
Takanotsume smirked. He didn't have a family to feed—just a household to blow up.
Unlike those penny-pinching ninja saving for retirement, he was different.
Ninja tool prices in the shinobi world were wildly polarized. Explosive tags cost 2,000 ryō each. Shuriken were the cheapest at about 50 ryō. Kunai varied from 200 to 30,000 ryō depending on quality—throwing ones were cheaper, while those for blocking were pricier.
A top-quality ninja tool set—throwing weapons, close-combat gear, and armor—ran close to 200,000 ryō.
Katanas and ninja blades were even wilder. The cheapest practice ninja sword started at 3,000 ryō, while chakra metal tools were outright astronomical—non-market items. If sold, they'd be priced in Asumas (a fortune).
Why was Takanotsume buying so many tools and explosive tags?
Simple.
He was going to die—but he couldn't intentionally die.
Sounds convoluted, but it made sense.
Deliberate suicide would be flagged as insurance fraud by the Will of Heaven. He'd get nothing and lose his life for free.
But—
If a spirited ninja bet everything he had, wielded his finest skills honed through training, and fought for a greater cause…
Only to fall in such a battle—who could say that wasn't a worthy death?
It was like the ninja world's version of "The Emperor's venture, half-finished, collapses midway."
I've burned every last drop of myself!
You gonna tell me you won't hand over my insurance card with both hands?
Soon, the shopkeeper came out, arms full of clattering gear. The weight of six ninja tool sets had him sweating buckets.
With a thud, he set them on the counter.
Then, like dealing cards, he fanned out stacks of explosive tags for Takanotsume to count.
"Takanotsume-bro, buying this much gear—you heading out on a dangerous mission or what?"
The shopkeeper finally realized Takanotsume wasn't stocking up for fun.
Takanotsume looked up, frowning at him.
"Don't take it the wrong way—I know ninja confidentiality rules. But I run a ninja tool business under Granny Cat and dabble in some intel on the side."
"The clan's dangerous missions boil down to two: the Land of Rain battlefield or Hell Valley in the Land of Hot Springs," the shopkeeper said, his face growing serious. "Neither's something someone at your level should be touching."
He didn't sugarcoat it, then hesitated, glancing at Takanotsume with concern.
"For all the business you've given the Ninja Cat clan, I'll throw in a little something extra."
He pulled out a piece of parchment and set it in front of Takanotsume.
"This is a one-time Ninja Cat contract. Sign it, and you can use Summoning Jutsu to call a Ninja Cat envoy."
Ninja Cat envoys were elite feline shinobi from the Ninja Cat clan.
They thrived in chaotic zones, headquartered in a little-known ruined city.
Unlike traditional summoning beasts, Ninja Cats were fiercely independent, nearly impossible to enslave.
The clan ran a ninja tool trade and had a close partnership with the tool-savvy Uchiha.
Takanotsume knew Granny Cat, the clan's leader, had a soft spot for kids.
When possible, she didn't hesitate to help them—especially Uchiha kids.
The shopkeeper offering this one-time summoning contract meant his intel suggested—
Takanotsume was likely facing a near-certain death on this mission.
By giving him the contract, the shopkeeper wasn't just helping—he was trying to dissuade Takanotsume from going.
"You get what I'm saying, right?" The shopkeeper stared intently, his pupils subtly shifting to vertical slits.
His tone was heavy.
Takanotsume smiled, taking the one-time contract from him.
The Ninja Cats were a neutral clan, staying out of ninja conflicts unless paid enough.
So, the contract's real use was resupplying survival gear and combat tools in a chaotic battlefield—for a price, of course.
But for Takanotsume, who'd just blown every last ryō tonight, it was a useless piece of paper. It wouldn't interfere with his legitimate insurance scam.
With that thought, he turned and walked out of the shop.
He left only a quiet remark:
"Thanks, uncle."
"But I've got things I have to do. Even facing life and death, I won't back down."
"That's my ninja way!"
After spouting some lofty words, Takanotsume stepped out of the shop, squeezed his wallet to confirm its emptiness, and—
Turned straight into Konoha's red-light district.
Tomorrow, he'd face the terror of death head-on. Despite the thrill pulsing through him, a sliver of fear lingered.
So, he decided to erase that one regret tonight.
Three minutes later—