The transactions with Hiruzen Sarutobi and Yuuki Kitahara were seamless, yielding a significant influx of trade points. This efficient, remote method of selling Jars was exactly what Shen Mo preferred, allowing him more personal time. With enough points, acquiring Icarus as a dedicated assistant will make everything even smoother.
However, the recent events confirmed his biggest suspicion: "It appears the fundamental changes caused by the Jars are now fully manifesting."
Shen Mo gently stroked Fei Ju in his arms, his eyes narrowed slightly. He wondered how Gato, his notorious client, was faring with his promised asset liquidation.
The days settled into a comfortable rhythm. Shen Mo, believing in the balance of effort and leisure, had retreated to his private house within the network. He indulged in video games, movies, and quality time with his cat spirit companion. With his omnipotent system, his existence transcended temporal limitations; he could enjoy virtual reality and media far beyond what his original modern life offered.
His one regret—the lack of internet access—was largely mitigated by Himari's vibrant presence.
Just moments ago, Shen Mo had conjured a meticulously prepared meal. Fei Ju, who had been languidly curled up on the bed, immediately twitched her nose, her ears rotating. She shot toward the table like a blur of velvet, her jewel-like eyes fixed on the perfectly grilled fish. She couldn't resist raising a tiny paw.
"This isn't for you, greedy thing," Shen Mo scolded lightly, tapping her paw before gently rubbing her soft belly. "Look at the amount you've consumed. You're constantly eating. You'll be a ridiculously portly cat-girl once you fully transform."
"Mroww—"
Fei Ju looked genuinely outraged, swatting Shen Mo's hand. But then she felt a faint, uncomfortable pressure in her small stomach. She turned away tragically, hopped off the table, and buried herself under the blankets on the bed. Only her hips and her small, reluctantly twitching tail protruded.
Shen Mo found her melodrama amusing. "Are you truly not going to eat this? This is a creation by Erina Nakiri, you know. Peak culinary perfection."
"Meow," a sound of despair and resignation filtered through the blankets.
"Well, then I suppose I must devour it all myself." Shen Mo picked up the fish plate and wafted the aroma toward the buried feline.
"Mrow!" This time, the sound was a low, desperate growl.
"Hahahaha." Shen Mo laughed deeply. "Relax, little one. Cat demons don't accumulate weight easily. I'll even prepare a specialized cultivation method for you to rapidly digest vast amounts of food."
The blanket bundle stirred. The furry bottom and tail disappeared, and Himari's small head emerged, her large, luminous eyes staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and suspicion.
"Mroww—?"
"Of course, it's true."
Shen Mo deftly sliced the grilled fish with his utensils. An indescribably rich, savory aroma permeated the room, filling every corner with the scent of culinary perfection.
"Mrow!" Himari squeaked in joyful realization, launching herself into the air, but Shen Mo stopped her mid-flight.
"Go wash your face and paws first." Shen Mo took a piece of fish and popped it into his mouth, savoring the flavor. Though he didn't share Himari's obsessive love for fish, he was enjoying the luxurious meal.
Just as Himari returned, her face still damp, her tiny paws immaculately clean—
Shen Mo's expression instantly hardened. A communication had arrived from Gato.
More accurately, it was a sound of absolute terror and a plea for intervention.
"Lord Shen Mo, save me!" Gato's voice, transmitted via the Badge, was frantic.
"I am being hunted, sir! Akatsuki found me, I can't possibly match them..."
Shen Mo frowned. He had always anticipated that Gato would be targeted by Akatsuki—that was normal. But the demand for his personal, immediate assistance was an issue. If every member facing a life-or-death situation began demanding his intervention, even an assistant like Icarus wouldn't be enough to manage the chaos, let alone the fact that he was currently enjoying his meal.
"This is a destiny you must fight for yourself. Do not pollute my time with such lowly, cowardly requests," Shen Mo's voice echoed in Gato's mind, calm but thunderous. "If you lack the courage to fight for your survival, you are no longer worthy of membership in the Chamber of Commerce!"
A rule must be established. Members should not expect a personal rescue; they must at least attempt to alter their fate. Shen Mo might observe for interest, but intervention was not guaranteed.
However, curiosity piqued, Shen Mo decided to watch.
He picked up a towel to wipe the remaining water droplets from Himari's face, then resumed his meal while activating the live video feed.
Gato was indeed in a dire situation. He had a massive, gushing wound—bandaging it with a scrap of clothing was barely keeping him conscious.
And his hunters...
Shen Mo recognized them instantly: Uchiha Itachi, the young man in the black cloak and red clouds, with the distinctive three-tomoe Sharingan. The very individual Sasuke was obsessed with confronting.
His partner was Hoshigaki Kisame, a towering man with bluish-gray, shark-like skin, wielding the extravagant, scaled blade, Samehada.
Shen Mo hadn't anticipated meeting this duo so early.
Meanwhile, Gato, chastised by Shen Mo's terrifying rebuke, dared not voice further complaints. The recent skirmish had already proven he was hopelessly outmatched.
He was desperately trying to conceal himself in the dense mud, struggling to control his ragged breathing, his face contorted in a mask of desperation.
Damn it! Akatsuki's reaction was too swift. He was just hours away from securing enough money for a second massive purchase. I must escape.
Itachi and Kisame were methodically sweeping the area.
"Who exactly is this disguised Gato?" Kisame's voice, though rough, sounded slightly strained.
"Are your injuries stable?" Itachi inquired coolly.
"If that sudden flurry of attacks had hit most men, they would be dead," Kisame growled, looking down at the few barely visible depressions on his chest. Gato's ability, fueled by the Jar, had caught him completely off guard. Kisame's expression was unusually serious.
Uchiha Itachi said nothing more, his crimson Sharingan revolving intently as he scanned the terrain. "My Sharingan confirms the target is Gato. He possesses no transformation techniques or Genjutsu."