#9

Mufasa turned to face the speaker, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Those eyes—cold, calculating, and reptilian.

Orochimaru.

Disguised as a Grass ninja.

What perfect timing.

Mufasa smiled, tilting his head slightly. "Sorry, limited stock. One per customer."

Orochimaru's pupils contracted slightly, radiating a cold, menacing aura.

Most people would have felt an unbearable chill, their bodies locking up in fear.

But Mufasa? He remained unfazed.

No matter how threatening Orochimaru's snake-like eyes became, Mufasa just kept smiling, casually running a hand over his chest hair. "Ah, sorry about that. My ninja tools are just too popular, so I have to limit sales. But hey, you've got three guys—you can each buy one."

Orochimaru resisted the urge to sneer.

This big oaf.

(Mufasa had disguised himself as a burly man with thick eyebrows, broad shoulders, dark skin, and a confident grin.)

Never mind.

Now wasn't the time to cause a scene.

Orochimaru's expression barely shifted as he turned and walked away, his two subordinates following in silence.

Mufasa scratched his head and chuckled. "Hah, what an odd bunch."

Then, turning to Izumo and Kotetsu, he grinned. "So, you two interested?"

The two chunin exchanged glances before nodding.

"Alright," Mufasa said. "Shuriken are 15 ryo each, kunai 10 ryo, and senbon go for 1 ryo apiece."

Kotetsu blinked. "Wait, why are your prices so low? They're cheaper than what we get in the village."

The standard Konoha price was 20 ryo per shuriken and 15 per kunai.

Mufasa smirked. "That's just my price. Not bad, right?"

Izumo and Kotetsu nodded, impressed.

Feeling a little sheepish after boasting about Konoha's superior tools earlier, they nonetheless paid up and each bought a shuriken.

As the transaction completed, Mufasa felt a small surge of satisfaction. Another step forward.

"Thanks for your business. See you around."

With that, he hefted his box onto his back and strode into the village.

Konoha was bustling with life.

Shops lined both sides of the street, their colorful banners swaying in the breeze. Vendors called out their wares, children darted between stalls, and shinobi moved purposefully through the crowd. It was a stark contrast to the barren and rugged landscape of the Sand Village.

Mufasa walked leisurely, soaking in the atmosphere.

One day, the Sand Village would be just as lively as this. No—more so.

For now, though, he had things to do. Experience Konoha firsthand. See its strengths and weaknesses up close.

"STOP!"

A loud, familiar voice cut through the chatter.

From down the road, a small boy with goggles and a trail of snot running down his nose came sprinting at full speed.

Konohamaru.

A step behind him, Naruto was in pursuit, grinning wildly.

The villagers barely reacted—they were more than used to these two. Almost instinctively, people parted, clearing a path in the middle of the street.

Mufasa, however, just happened to be standing directly in the way.

Perfect.

As Konohamaru bolted past, Mufasa reached out and caught him by the back of his shirt, lifting him effortlessly into the air.

Naruto skidded to a stop, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Then, looking up, his face lit up. "Hey, thanks, old man!"

Mufasa raised an eyebrow. "Old man? Again?"

Konohamaru, meanwhile, flailed in his grip. "Let me go, you idiot!"

Mufasa didn't take kindly to bratty kids.

So, without hesitation, he knocked him on the head.

Bang.

Konohamaru immediately quieted down.

Naruto narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar man. "Hey, you're not from around here, are you?"

Mufasa chuckled. "You're sharp, kid. I'm just a traveling merchant from the Land of Wind, looking for a place to stay."

Hearing that, Naruto's curiosity piqued. "Whoa! The Land of Wind? Do you know any 'Unscientific Ninja' from the Sand Village?"

The mention of powerful ninja from Suna brought back memories for Naruto.

Mufasa waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, just an ordinary merchant. I don't dabble in ninja business."

Naruto shrugged. "Alright, old man, I'll take you to an inn."

Leading the way, Naruto pointed out various landmarks. "If you get hungry, check out Ichiraku Ramen. Best ramen in the village! Over there is Tea Street, great for relaxing. And if you're looking for a drink, the Izakayas are solid."

Mufasa nodded, taking mental notes. "Where can I find the ninja tool shop?"

Naruto gestured across the street. "It's on the other side of the hospital. Why, old man?"

Mufasa grinned. "I'm a ninja tool merchant. I like to check out the competition."

Konohamaru snickered. "Hah! No one buys ninja tools in a ninja village! Our ninjas don't use weapons from outsiders. Only a real idiot would try!"

Before Naruto could retort, a voice called out from behind.

"Hey, Old man Scar!" Izumo and Kotetsu jogged over with three other ninja in tow.

Kotetsu grinned. "Glad we caught you. Our friends here want to buy some of your gear."

Konohamaru's jaw dropped.

Naruto burst into laughter. "Hah! Who's the idiot now?"

Mufasa set his box down. "Limited stock—one per person."

The new buyers wasted no time, quickly paying for their purchases. Some even tested the weapons on the spot, slicing their old shuriken against Mufasa's.

A sharp crack echoed as their weapons broke cleanly in two. The crowd gasped.

"Whoa, that's insane!" Naruto shouted, eyes wide.

Even Konohamaru was speechless for a moment before blurting, "I want one too!"

Naruto smirked. "Didn't you say only idiots buy these?"

Konohamaru huffed. "You're the idiot!"

Mufasa chuckled as he gathered his earnings, feeling his chakra subtly react to the exchange.

Naruto twirled his new kunai excitedly. "With this, I've got a better shot at winning the Chunin Exams!"

As they reached the hotel, Naruto pointed at the neighboring building. "The Sand Village candidates are staying right next door."

"Huh, looks like Gaara and his team got here before me," Mufasa mused, his tone unreadable.

Naruto grinned. "The second exam starts tomorrow."

Mufasa nodded. "In that case, let me treat you to some ramen. A full stomach never hurt anyone before a big fight."

Naruto was overjoyed.

After setting down his belongings, Mufasa followed Naruto to Ichiraku Ramen, where they both enjoyed a warm meal.

Mufasa took a sip of broth and sighed contentedly. "Naruto, I really appreciate your help today."

Naruto grinned. "Old man, can you sell me two extra ninja tools?"

Mufasa raised an eyebrow. "This is a limited sale."

Naruto leaned in, lowering his voice. "I want to buy one for my teammates—Sasuke and Sakura."

Mufasa chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, I'll make an exception for you."

Naruto beamed. "Thanks, old man!" He could already imagine their reactions—Sasuke might act cool, but he'd definitely appreciate it, and Sakura would be impressed.

Before the Forest of Death

Ninjas from Konoha, Sand Village, Rain Village, Grass Village, Sound Village, and other regions gathered as the chief examiner, Anko Mitarashi, explained the rules of the second Chunin Exam.

"The team that collects both the Heaven and Earth scrolls and reaches the tower within the given time will qualify for the next round."

As Anko continued, Naruto dug into his pocket and pulled out the kunai he had bought. He handed them to Sasuke and Sakura. "Here, these are for you."

Sakura blinked in surprise. "Huh? Why are you giving us kunai?"

Naruto smirked. "These aren't just any kunai. They're special. Watch this."

He pulled out a standard Konoha-issued kunai and struck it against the one Mufasa had sold him. With a sharp snap, the standard kunai shattered.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed in intrigue, and Sakura gasped. "Whoa! These are amazing!"

Their exchange caught the attention of other teams.

Some competitors were surprised—was Naruto really that strong?

Meanwhile, Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari exchanged knowing glances.

"He's here," Kankuro murmured.

Gaara remained silent, but a flicker of recognition passed through his eyes.

From a distance, Orochimaru's tongue flicked out as he observed the scene, his mind already weaving new plans. "That foolish merchant again?" he muttered to himself, not realizing just how much trouble this so-called "merchant" would bring him.

"Begin!" Anko's voice rang out.

The iron gates of the Forest of Death groaned open, and the teams rushed inside.

Meanwhile, in Konoha

While the exam raged on, Mufasa had set up a small stall in the village market, his wooden box propped open to display an array of finely crafted ninja tools.

"High-quality ninja tools for sale! Durable, sharp, and affordable!" he called out, playing the role of a hardworking vendor.

By midday, he would close the stall, enjoy a bowl of ramen, or stop by an izakaya for a drink.

When chatting with the locals, he always steered the conversation toward ninja tools—asking about manufacturing processes, suppliers, and market demand.

At first, ANBU had kept a close watch on him. A ninja tool merchant from the Land of Wind? That was suspicious.

But after days of monitoring, their reports remained the same:

"Scar—an ordinary vendor from the Land of Wind. Nothing unusual."

They had even conducted a background check, but Mufasa's actions perfectly matched his cover. As long as Orochimaru and Hiruzen Sarutobi moved according to their plans, there was no need for him to act prematurely.

Besides, his real mission was gathering intelligence on Konoha's ninja tool industry.

Most villages didn't prioritize ninja tools, focusing instead on ninjutsu development. This made his investigation surprisingly easy.

Take Gaara's first opponent in the Forest of Death as an example—Shigure from the Rain Village. His jutsu involved launching senbon from his umbrella, but his attacks failed to pierce Gaara's sand shield, and he was defeated effortlessly.

If Shigure had been using Mufasa's custom-made senbon, Gaara might have actually needed to dodge.

Back in the Forest of Death

The exam continued at full throttle. Gaara, with his overwhelming power, set a new record for the fastest completion of the second stage.

Elsewhere, Orochimaru successfully marked Sasuke with the Cursed Seal of Heaven, his twisted goals moving forward as planned.

The only thing that irritated him was Naruto and Sasuke's new kunai.

During their skirmish, the enhanced kunai had pierced through the massive snake he had summoned, killing it instantly. Orochimaru had barely contained his rage at the embarrassing scene.

In the shadows of the forest, his forked tongue flicked out, his expression dark. "That fool… Next time I see him, I'll make sure he regrets it."

Later that Night—At an Izakaya

Mufasa sat across from a new drinking companion, his laughter filling the dimly lit establishment.

"Haha! Brother Jiraiya, is that really true?" he asked, raising his cup.

Jiraiya, with his signature grin, took a swig of sake. "Of course! I've traveled across the ninja world, and let me tell you—women from the Land of Wind have the most flawless skin. The desert keeps them well-preserved."

He reached into his bag and pulled out a familiar-looking book. "Here, look. This is my latest volume of 'Make-Out Paradise.' Proof that I don't lie."

"Oh, I didn't expect you to be a writer, Jiraiya-san," Mufasa said, raising an eyebrow.

Jiraiya puffed out his chest proudly. "Not just any writer—I'm a great writer who travels the world gathering inspiration for my best-selling novels."

Mufasa chuckled. "Well then, I guess I'm a strong ninja who roams the lands to craft the best-selling ninja tools."

The two clapped each other on the shoulder and burst into laughter, their boisterous voices carrying through the izakaya.

With Jiraiya's long white hair and Mufasa's dark complexion, they stood out like day and night—an odd but entertaining duo. The people sitting nearby cast them skeptical glances, unimpressed by their grand ambitions.

"Just a couple of dreamers," one muttered under his breath.

Jiraiya, his face flushed from the sake, suddenly leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Come on, Scar-san, I'll take you to a place you'll love."

Mufasa narrowed his eyes. "And where exactly would that be?"

Jiraiya waggled his eyebrows, his expression full of unspoken mischief. "You know… the hot springs."

Mufasa snorted, shaking his head. "Lead the way."

Of course, as a man of culture himself, Mufasa agreed.