"Ah, I see..."
Orochimaru roughly understood the situation.
"Now, back to the earlier question. Can you..."
"Sorry, I refuse. If he wants to quit because of this, then we will also withdraw."
Kin'emon insisted, "I can pay more."
Orochimaru politely declined, "This isn't something that money can resolve..."
"I get it. Fine, have it your way," Kin'emon snorted unhappily, showing dissatisfaction as he glanced at Tōshirō. "When you meet Lord Momonosuke, I hope you don't go around claiming you're from the Uchiha clan."
Returning to Konoha and rearranging the team now would waste too much time.
Tōshirō remained indifferent, not even raising an eyebrow.
No need for a reminder—he had no intention of proclaiming himself as a member of the Uchiha clan to anyone.
The journey from Konoha to the Flower Capital wasn't short—it couldn't be completed in a single day.
At night, during the rest stop, Orochimaru approached Tōshirō to apologize for the incident earlier in the day, admitting that if it weren't for his own loose tongue, such an issue wouldn't have arisen.
"Don't worry about it. It was an accident."
Tōshirō replied, "Honestly, you don't need to worry about my feelings."
"That won't do. Tōshirō-kun is our comrade. We stick together through thick and thin."
Tōshirō glanced at Orochimaru, thinking how vastly different this Orochimaru's personality was in this timeline.
Jiraiya, standing nearby, teased, "What on earth did your clan do to make the employer this angry at you?"
"How would I know?"
"Aren't you the least bit curious?"
"With little food and too much trouble, how could it last long?" Tōshirō showed no interest and buried himself in eating.
...
Land of Fire.
Flower Capital, Kabukicho District.
Under the intertwining lights, a young woman sat on a sofa, resting her chin on one hand, her infatuated gaze locked on the man in front of her—his long black hair and handsome, jade-like face.
"Prince, why do you always stir your coffee with a spoon when you talk to me?"
"Prince" wasn't the man's real name; it was his stage name. His real name was Momonosuke, the top host at the White Horse Host Club.
"Oh, my dear lady, this is to create a more comfortable experience for you."
Momonosuke's voice was magnetic, sending shivers through the young woman. "A more comfortable experience?"
"Yes, for instance, right now. Don't you think that, from your perspective, my counterclockwise stirring gives off a more patient vibe?"
The young woman, utterly captivated by this PUA technique, leaned into Momonosuke's arms, mesmerized. "Now that you mention it, it does seem that way. Prince, you're so thoughtful to notice even the tiniest details for me."
Momonosuke brushed aside the hair on her forehead and gently caressed her cheek, his face adorned with a doting smile. "Of course, making sure my lady has a healing dream is my mission."
Hearts filled the young woman's eyes.
"My lady, shall we order another drink?"
The girl froze for a moment.
Ordering a drink here wasn't cheap.
The drinks here cost several times, even dozens of times, more than outside.
To be honest, her monthly expenses at the host club had already put her in the red.
A flicker of disdain flashed in Momonosuke's eyes, but he quickly replaced it with a sorrowful expression on his delicate face. "I see, you don't like me anymore?"
"No, that's not it..."
The young woman quickly explained. It was just that she was a bit broke lately and couldn't afford to spend more. However, this was something she couldn't bring herself to say to her crush.
While she hesitated on how to respond, a pair of large hands suddenly pressed down on her shoulders.
"Please, I beg you, always support me forever. Only by maintaining my position as White Horse's No. 1 can I earn enough income to care for everyone in the orphanage."
The young woman knew about Momonosuke's situation.
A war orphan, wandering everywhere until he was adopted by a host, subjected to rigorous training, and eventually becoming a master host who brings happiness to his customers.
Despite this, he never forgot his roots. He frequently performed acts of kindness, helping poor families. As he explained, seeing such people reminded him of his own tragic past. That's why he founded an orphanage—to bring happiness to others in his own way.
Ah~
What an inspiring and noble person.
Thinking of all this, the young woman couldn't bear to refuse. She secretly vowed that, even if she had to take out a high-interest loan, she would support the dreams of her beloved.
Seeing the young woman agree, Momonosuke's face once again lit up with a fake smile. "Let's have a wonderful evening together."
The young woman blushed deeply.
The next day, Momonosuke walked out of a room.
In the hallway, another host from the White Horse club greeted him. "Yo, Prince, how was last night?"
Momonosuke flipped his hair with a hint of disdain and said, "What else? Another ghost pillow, nothing special. First-timers are more interesting."
The terms "ghost pillow" and "first-timer" were internal slang among the hosts.
The other host chuckled. "Just don't go overboard like last time."
Previously, a "ghost pillow" customer had become uncontrollable, driven by love-turned-hatred, and attempted to assassinate Momonosuke.
"Doesn't matter. Everyone will still believe me like last time."
As they chatted, a commotion erupted outside.
They were used to such things and decided to step in and handle it.
"You! How long are you going to embarrass me here?"
The voice belonged to the young woman who had spent a wonderful evening with Momonosuke the night before.
At that moment, she was shouting angrily at a young man.
The young man, unable to hold back his anger, raised his hand, ready to hit her.
Momonosuke reacted quickly, stepping in front of the young woman and knocking the young man down with ease.
The man, now on the ground, was filled with rage. "Who the hell are you?!"
Before Momonosuke could reply, the young woman quickly bowed and apologized to him, her attitude towards the young man vastly different.
"Prince?"
Hearing his wife's deferential tone towards the other man, the young man immediately understood what was going on. His rage flared, and his eyes filled with fury.
"How pathetic. You actually hit a woman." Momonosuke turned the tables, looking down on him with disdain. "As a man, I find you shameful."
The young man took a deep breath and turned to his wife. "While I've been working hard every day, you've been secretly spending all our savings on this scumbag, haven't you?"
"I didn't!"
The young woman denied it flatly.
"Then why didn't you come home last night?"
"You were out working too, weren't you?" The young woman froze for a moment, her eyes wide. "So, you were following me? You liar! There's no trust between people anymore."
The young man nearly coughed up blood. Who was really at fault here? "You've disappointed me so much, spending my money to keep this pretty boy!"
"It's not what you think! Being a host is a simple and pure job. They drink with customers, chat, and listen to their worries. They have high emotional intelligence and strong values. Prince even built an orphanage to take in homeless children. Being with him makes me happy—it even feels like my soul has been redeemed."
The young man couldn't take it anymore. The look he gave his wife was like she'd completely lost her mind. "Are you brain-dead? This guy just wants to scam you out of your money."
(End of Chapter)
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