Haseo spent the entire afternoon contemplating matters concerning Sunagakure. When night arrived and it was time to sleep but he refused to rest, he finally realized:
What did this nonsense have to do with him? Wasn't he already retired?
He'd been misled! So many brain cells wasted for nothing. Updated fastest at M78 Chinese site (mobile):
If he could barely be bothered to care about Konoha's affairs, then spending so much energy on Sunagakure issues was just sheer madness.
Let whoever wants to be Kazekage become one. If Haseo himself could become Hokage, why wouldn't Sasori of the Red Sand—a pure-blooded native—be qualified for Kazekage? Let Karura marry whomever she wanted. It wasn't like Haseo would benefit from her marriage anyway. Updated fastest at M78 Chinese site (PC):
Who cares about the Red-Sand Scorpion or some "sand-eating crab"—a life of sea breezes, fishing, and pulling one over on anime fans with cool figurines? Now that's living!
"Still thinking about Sunagakure, Haseo?"
"Not anymore—I've figured it out."
Haseo felt like he was making a mountain out of a molehill.
As night deepened, the two-story house on the outskirts of this small town finally fell into darkness.
...
On a whim, after getting up the next morning and eating something quickly, Haseo really did go fishing... The Land of Hot Springs' coastal environment ensured abundant seafood resources here.
Fishing rod, bait, bucket, folding chair, sun umbrella—and of course his ever-present "Black Iron Staff"—Haseo grabbed everything quickly before heading straight for the beach.
Something told him today would be a lucky day.
To Haseo, fishing purely depended on luck determining results—as long as there were fish in the area and they actually bit the bait, with a ninja's reaction speed there was absolutely no way he'd catch nothing.
Technical aspects needn't even be questioned... Besides, even if Haseo had technical problems, he could always try blowing up the sea instead. Fishing was supposed to be relaxing while blowing up schools of fish would be truly exciting.
Upon arriving at the beach and setting up camp, Haseo began his "work" for today.
But with ideal sunshine temperatures complemented by moist ocean breezes, once Haseo sat down on his chair, he immediately started nodding off.
Though his hands gripped the rod tightly, his head bobbed heavily sideways, jerking awake momentarily before adjusting posture only to start tilting toward the other direction again.
Looks like he was really wiped out.
The bait on his hook had long since been completely pecked clean by clever little fish—well, how could he notice when he was half-asleep the whole time?
A big harvest? Seems nonexistent… or not?
As noon rolled around with Haseo still slumped drowsily in his chair, two figures appeared along the coast. After reaching mid-range distance, one person pointed toward Haseo, seemingly confirming his identity.
Then both hastened their pace.
Seemingly unguarded, at this moment perhaps even a ten-year-old child armed with just an X-Acto knife could kill him... Well, maybe?
Regardless of what he was doing, a ninja of Haseo's level would always maintain minimal vigilance.
Let's just say Haseo had seen his fair share of sneak attacks and assassins — his reflexes were beyond explanation.
Trying to take him down with a surprise move? That'd only happen if he was busy killing someone and they fought back outta nowhere — an event so unlikely it wasn't even worth considering.
The two men had been chatting as they walked, eventually reaching Haseo's side.
Judging by their appearances, one was young and the other older. The younger man had fair skin, was a bit chubby, and looked cheerful — probably early twenties.
The elder appeared to be in his forties.
Judging from their clothing alone, one could easily tell — they were both wealthy men.
"Are you sure *this* is the master?"
The older man asked first.
He wanted confirmation because the "art master" was supposed to be middle-aged like himself, yet now that he'd actually seen Haseo in person, the artist looked far younger than expected.
The younger man nodded, then reached out and gently shook Haseo's shoulder.
"Master Yu, wake up. Customers have arrived."
Haseo mumbled groggily, "Huh? Customers already?"
He faintly recognized the chubby kid — he must've been a regular. As for the other man beside him, however, he was completely unfamiliar... One thing was certain: these two were ordinary folks.
In theory, neither posed any threat to Haseo at all.
Still… Judging by the stranger's age, he didn't seem like someone particularly interested in figurines. Could he be a theater troupe leader looking to commission large-scale, high-quality dolls for stage performances?
That seemed like the most reasonable guess.
"We stopped by your workshop earlier looking for you," said the chubby kid excitedly, partly because he really admired Haseo's artwork, and consequently had developed admiration for the artist himself. To put it bluntly, turns out rich gaming nerds were super easy to scam.
If this guy represented his fan club's leadership, Haseo figured he might actually build a real fandom someday.
"Are you indeed the famous doll master?" the middle-aged man addressed Haseo directly.
"Yeah… Let's walk and talk."
With that, Haseo stood up. Temporarily leaving his fishing gear behind, he picked up his cane and began walking back toward the workshop with the two guests.
"My name is Yuchun. I'm forty years old. And I'm a puppet artisan." He briefly introduced himself.
Hmm? This three-part introduction style felt oddly familiar. Good thing he was called Master Yu instead of Teacher Yu, otherwise misunderstandings might arise.
"I wouldn't go that far. I'm just a craftsman who enjoys making puppets."
"You're too modest, Master. It's precisely because I've seen your creations — true masterpieces — that I came here personally," the middle-aged man continued as they walked. "Actually, I've come to commission a work from you.
Here's the situation: I'm a believer of the God of Abundance, and our newly completed temple requires a statue that fits its character and grandeur."
The God of Abundance?
Haseo side-eyed the man, seriously suspecting the other party had stolen his idea. After all, Haseo was particularly skilled at sculpting goddess statues.
"Any specific requirements? Regarding shape, size, and appearance?"
"Yes, I've got a rough sketch here. I hope Master can take this as a base and fully demonstrate your skills."
So saying, the middle-aged man passed a sheet of paper to Haseo.
After spreading it out and glancing at it, Haseo thought—ignoring the labeled dimensional information for now—that the design concept behind this statue was actually pretty avant-garde.
To put it this way: When Haseo sculpted figures, they were usually "Nyara"-style. But the design provided by the client clearly resembled "Nyarlathotep"—with all the tentacles, bizarre postures, and grotesque facial expressions.
The God of Abundance sounded quite appealing, but just look at this statue—it's definitely not an orthodox deity. Compared with this thing, even the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path could be considered dignified, radiant, and worthy of reverence.
Haseo really didn't feel like taking this job anymore. He was an artist devoted to artistic creation, but his creative scope had never involved anything related to the Cthulhu Mythos.
"Customer, I can feel the sincerity in your personal visit, but right now my schedule is completely packed—I couldn't say exactly when I'd get to your project..."
This was a polite way of declining.
The middle-aged man shook his head. "Please, Master, make an exception for us. Our sincerity goes even further than this.
"If you'd kindly accept our commission immediately, we're prepared to pay one hundred... one and a half million ryo as payment, and naturally, we can offer upfront payment."
This caused Haseo to furrow his brows. As an artist, he despised nothing more than this kind of ugly behavior of trying to buy people off with money. His face hardened—he seemed about to retort sharply:
"When do you need it completed?"
Priceless art might be beyond value, but sooner or later, even that had to be weighed in cold cash.
One hundred and fifty thousand ryo—it was admittedly pretty tempting.
Today was turning out to be quite the harvest.
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