"Get out of here with your captain."
Ryoma spoke lightly. The technique he had cast on the two earlier was nothing more than a simple illusion—one that would naturally dissipate by tomorrow.
He wasn't interested in the genin before him. An adult bullying children was no achievement.
Besides, they were still exam candidates. Even helping Mebuki Haruno earlier had technically interfered with the Chūnin Exams. If he slaughtered every genin candidate here, it would be disgraceful for someone acting as one of the exam's organizers.
After watching the terrified examinees flee as though they had oil on the soles of their feet, Terumi strode over to Ryoma's side and said with a touch of pride, "Thank you… thank you for protecting me."
Only silence greeted her.
Terumi puffed up her cheeks, dissatisfaction bubbling up.
"I'm talking to you!"
"I heard you, brat. Rest. Tomorrow's training will be even harsher."
Hearing that, Terumi couldn't stop the smug smile spreading across her face.
A cold exterior hiding a warm heart—she was certain of it.
The moment she lay down, she started nagging again.
"Those guys got scared off without even touching you. Too weak."
"It's not that they're weak," Ryoma replied calmly. "Even a group of jōnin wouldn't be able to lay a hand on me."
"And what if I can?"
"If you can touch me, I'll grant you one request."
"Really!?"
Terumi instantly sat up, staring at him with burning determination.
"There's no reason for me to lie to you."
Even if this body was merely a wooden clone with limited power, its combat ability was still at the level of a Kage—far beyond a child like Terumi, who hadn't even earned the rank of chūnin.
But if she somehow managed to "injure him even slightly" in the next few days… it wasn't unreasonable to grant her a request.
Looking at her bright, proud grin, the corner of Ryoma's mouth—hidden beneath the mask—curved faintly.
Konoha.
Just as Ryoma was splitting his focus to manage the tasks handled by his various clones, a message pinged on his phone.
He glanced at it—and even his normally composed face revealed a hint of helplessness.
"She's at it again."
A thought later, he teleported to the front of an izakaya using the Flying Thunder God Technique.
He didn't even need to enter—the clatter of smashing objects echoed loudly from inside.
Pushing the door open, he saw exactly what he expected: a blonde woman—red-faced, curvy, and very drunk—was aggressively smashing anything within reach. A short-haired girl struggled desperately to stop her, but her meager strength was useless.
Customers and staff shrank back in horror. The shop manager was nearly in tears.
"Tsunade-sama! Please stop! Don't break anything else!"
"Hahahaha!" Tsunade shouted, tossing an empty bottle to the floor.
The moment she spotted Ryoma, she charged over, grabbed him by the collar, and slurred:
"You! What are you doing here, you lousy man! You just treat me like a tool all day… Don't I have any other good points? Any charms!?"
"And you—marrying two wives… two! Why don't you go get three more wives and four concubines while you're at it?! So majestic!"
Listening to her alcohol-soaked nonsense made Ryoma's head pound.
He turned to Shizune with a sigh.
"How much has she lost this time?"
Shizune didn't dare speak; she simply typed out a seven- or eight-digit number on her phone and handed it over.
"No wonder… this crazy woman never learns."
This was already the third time. Tsunade was addicted to gambling, and Ryoma was addicted to paying her debts. Every time she lost everything, she drowned her misery with alcohol—then went wild, smashing other people's property.
And worst of all: her alcohol tolerance was even worse than her gambling skills.
One drink and she became a rampaging disaster.
Tonight, Ryoma had received another silent "distress signal" from Shizune, and he already knew what had happened.
After all, no one else in Konoha dared to deal with the First Hokage's granddaughter.
Even Orochimaru and Jiraiya—her fellow Legendary Sannin—avoided cleaning up Tsunade's mess. Better to flee than risk getting punched into the next week.
Ryoma tapped a cluster of acupoints on Tsunade's neck.
She dropped instantly, unconscious.
He carried her over his shoulder and instructed Shizune:
"From now on, don't let her touch any more shady online gambling sites."
This Amegakure online casino was Tsunade's latest obsession—full of flashy dealers, seductive hosts, and every kind of shady "entertainment."
In truth, the entire website had been built by Amegakure itself.
With the rapid rise of the internet era, even the once‐impoverished Amegakure had found a way to seize new business opportunities.
The village's complicated geography had long produced people from all walks of life—gamblers, tricksters, hustlers. Mahjong, poker, pai gow, dice—Amegakure citizens were so skilled they could run the games, rig the systems, and build the network infrastructure themselves.
And since they understood every trick in existence, they also knew how to create them.
But Tsunade…
This woman clearly had no idea how these sites worked.
The moment her gambling addiction kicked in, she would top up a ridiculous amount of money without hesitation—practically a fat sheep offering itself to the slaughter.
Walking out of the store with Tsunade slung on his back, Shizune said softly, "Lord Ryoma, please take Tsunade-sama home first. I'll go buy her a bowl of sobering soup. She has to drink it every time she wakes up."
With that, Shizune hurried across the street.
Ryoma continued walking. The warmth and softness pressing against his back were impossible not to notice, and he felt his self-control waver for just a moment.
But he wasn't the type ruled by impulse, and he calmed himself quickly.
After a while, he felt her stir.
"Huh…? Why am I here? Where is this?"
Tsunade grabbed a handful of his hair, confused. "Where's Shizune? She was with me…"
"She went to buy you sobering soup."
"You put on another performance in a tavern. I genuinely don't know how one of the Legendary Sannin ends up like this."
Ryoma didn't bother softening his tone.
This wasn't the first time—or the second. Saying anything was pointless at this stage. He was already considering asking Orochimaru tomorrow to block Tsunade's access to all gambling networks and similar sites at the system level.
Tsunade, offended by his bluntness, punched him hard in the back.
"If it's such a hassle, don't come next time!"
"If I don't come, you'll probably tear down half the village."
They bickered their way down the street.
In public, Tsunade was always proper and reliable when working with him—disciplined and composed.
But in private, it wasn't unusual for her and Ryoma to throw verbal jabs at each other like this.
And Ryoma didn't mind.
His status had risen so quickly that most people around him treated him with fear, awe, and excessive politeness. Only a handful—Tsunade included—still talked to him like a normal person.
Before long, the two arrived at Tsunade's mansion.
The moment Ryoma opened the door and lowered her to the ground, Tsunade's drunken legs gave out completely.
She collapsed straight into his arms.
...
(End of Chapter)
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