Kazuyama Gekkō quickly recovered and smiled warmly.
"Of course there's no problem. But sending it all the way from the Land of Frost really was tiring."
"Still, this counts as opening up a new trade route, and so far it's been going well, haha."
"As long as everyone likes it, I don't mind a little exhaustion."
A little exhaustion was nothing. The money went into his pocket, the people were fooled—Kazuyama had already won.
Come again? Not a chance. By the time everyone started falling sick from eating too much, they'd probably hate him so much they'd want to tear him apart.
"Hehehe, good. Whenever you want to handle the paperwork, just go and use my name."
"I'll even give you a twenty percent discount. Hahaha! Now I'm off to cook fish soup for my granddaughter."
Seeing Ōnoki walk off with that cheerful grin, Kazuyama nearly burst out laughing. Personally feeding poison to his own granddaughter—what a model grandfather.
He and Chōmei had added only a very small amount of Scale Powder into the croakers. Even after eating them for several days, there would be no immediate problem. The powder simply settled in the body, slowly accumulating until it reached a critical level—then it would all erupt at once.
After all, Kazuyama had brought in ten cartloads of seafood. If people started collapsing before he'd sold them all, his profits would vanish.
But looking at how much Iwagakure loved seafood, he suddenly thought—even without Scale Powder, this could have been a good business.
With his Flying Thunder God Technique, he could cross two countries and haul cheap croaker from the Land of Frost to Iwagakure for a fortune.
That thought gave him another idea—what about selling to Sunagakure?
After all, the Sand Village sat in a desert. How many of them had ever seen the sea? But considering their poor state, if he priced too high, they couldn't afford it; too low, and he'd be at a loss.
Forget it, that could wait.
...
Over the next few days, Kazuyama's seafood shop flourished. He sold out all ten cartloads.
Even then, many villagers still craved more.
But Kazuyama knew what was coming.
"Boss, all the seafood is sold out."
"Good. Here's your pay. Take it."
He handed a chest of money to the lead worker—the agreed-upon wages.
"Take the money and go. I've got more business to handle, so I won't see you off."
They had worked hard for him, but he couldn't let them get dragged into what was about to happen. Of course, he doubted Ōnoki would bother with common laborers anyway. Ninja problems were for ninjas to solve.
The workers didn't argue. They collected their pay and set off back toward the coast.
Only Kazuyama remained, determined to witness Iwagakure's downfall with his own eyes.
To act more freely, he summoned Tsurutsuhime with his Snake Coiling Technique, then activated invisibility and floated high above the village.
"Chōmei, Insect Vision—time to witness Iwagakure's darkest hour!"
Chōmei had been impatient for days. Now he was just as eager to watch.
By Kazuyama's calculation, with all that seafood eaten, the Scale Powder had built up enough. It was time.
Under the blazing sun, ninjas and villagers busied themselves with their tasks. Then suddenly, a scream of agony rang out:
"Ah! My stomach... it hurts! Hurts..."
Of course it hurt—he'd stuffed himself with croaker for days.
People turned to look, and then it was as if a switch had been flipped. From the crowd, more cries followed.
"Ow! Wait—my stomach hurts too!"
"Ahhh! It hurts so much! Someone, help me! Take me to the hospital!"
In an instant, all of Iwagakure seemed to glitch like a broken system. The entire village filled with cries and sounds too miserable to describe.
Even doctors and nurses collapsed in the hospitals.
The symptoms were clear: vomiting, diarrhea, dizziness, vertigo, weakness all over.
Even Ōnoki, the Third Tsuchikage, was locked in battle inside his office bathroom, his face black as coal.
As a careful man, he immediately suspected the seafood. But now he didn't even have the strength to float.
"Damn it! It has to be the seafood."
"But no... it was tested."
He was still trying to reason it out when an ANBU entered with a report.
"Tsuchikage-sama, many villagers are sick. The hospital is already full."
"Tsuchikage-sama? Are you all right?"
The ANBU noticed Ōnoki's condition and quickly asked.
Staggering out of the bathroom, Ōnoki shook his head and, with a trembling voice, gave the order:
"Find him at once! The seafood merchant—catch him! His goods are to blame!"
But before they could move, another ANBU appeared with a message that made Ōnoki's blood boil.
"Tsuchikage-sama, your family has fallen ill. Lord Kitsuchi's condition is the most severe, and even Kurotsuchi has shown symptoms."
That was the breaking point. Ōnoki didn't care about himself. He didn't even care much about his son.
Kitsuchi: ... Old man, seriously? Just because I ate two of your fish? Ugh—no, I'm dizzy...
But his granddaughter was involved. For that, he would not stop until the culprit was dragged out.
"We checked already. No one's there."
"He must have fled."
Ōnoki nearly spat blood. The anger made his head spin, and his stomach cramped even worse.
This didn't add up. If it were poison, the tests would have caught it. And with his battlefield experience, how could he not have noticed it himself?
That bastard... what had he done to his village?
Meanwhile, Kazuyama floated above, laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. He hadn't expected the results to be this spectacular.
Then the system chimed in:
[Ding! The Scale Powder seafood distributed in Iwagakure has achieved tremendous effect. Nearly 70% of the population is afflicted—the rest are either out of the village or not interested in seafood.]
[Ding! The host has successfully harmed a large number of people. Special reward: …]