That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

”Tsunade-sama, what’s wrong?”

Shizune, clutching her pet pig, looked at her master in confusion. Tsunade had been pacing the floor of their luxurious suite with a strange, unsettled expression. This was unusual; Tsunade’s mood had been exceptionally good ever since they met Suzuki.

In fact, Shizune’s mood had been fantastic as well. Ever since they accepted Suzuki’s ’sponsorship,’ their lives had become incredibly comfortable.

”Where is he? I haven’t seen him all morning.”

Tsunade frowned deeply, crossing her arms and causing her massive chest to heave. It might have seemed strange for a Legendary Sannin to be so concerned about the whereabouts of a young boy she had just met, but deep down, she already thought of him as her personal disciple.

Yes, a disciple.

Suzuki was capable, terrifyingly talented, and an absolute workaholic. Over the past few weeks, he had spent every waking moment absorbing her medical knowledge and experience like a dry sponge. He had even taken the highly practical step of renting out a large room on the ground floor of the hotel, converting it into a makeshift clinic. He treated wealthy locals, practicing his newly acquired medical jutsu to the absolute limit while simultaneously raking in a fortune in medical fees.

While Tsunade was deeply troubled by her inability to practice medicine herself—due to her crippling, secret hemophobia—she had to admit she loved having this arrogant little brat around. Especially when he casually tossed her stacks of cash from his clinic profits to fund her habits.

More importantly, he had legally purchased the very gambling house he had burned down, rebuilt it to a much higher standard, and tailored it entirely to her liking.

Because of Suzuki, Tsunade’s life was perfect. She slept in a penthouse suite, ate gourmet food, drank top-shelf sake, and gambled in a luxurious casino where she essentially had an infinite line of credit. When loan sharks or thugs tried to track her down for her old debts, Suzuki handled them without breaking a sweat. In fact, he actively used her as bait, luring in the criminal syndicates so he could ruthlessly bankrupt them and absorb their assets into his own growing empire.

She was too proud to say it out loud, but she had fully acknowledged him as her heir.

It was a slightly complicated dynamic, considering he was already the Third Hokage’s disciple. Technically, that made Suzuki her junior martial brother, not her student. However, she didn’t hold back. She taught him everything she could, knowing full well that her unparalleled skills were useless to the world as long as her phobia paralyzed her.

Therefore, when she woke up and couldn’t find him, a strange, creeping anxiety settled in her chest.

”Ah, Suzuki-kun? I went looking for him earlier too,” Shizune admitted.

Shizune also had to confess that she couldn’t imagine going back to their old, miserable life on the run. With Suzuki around, her stress levels had plummeted. She no longer had to constantly monitor Tsunade’s finances, because the casino belonged to Suzuki, and any violent trouble that arose was swiftly eliminated by him.

While they had both witnessed Suzuki’s terrifyingly ruthless business tactics, they chose to ignore them. They were shinobi; they had seen far crueler things in times of war. Since Suzuki strictly targeted criminals, loan sharks, and corrupt merchants—and since they benefited immensely from it—they didn’t care. Plus, his aggressive economic takeover had actually improved the local economy.

”The hotel staff told me he went on a business trip,” Shizune added.

”Business again?!”

Tsunade’s lips twitched violently. ”Just how much of a money-grubber is he?! I am going to teach him a painful lesson when he gets back!”

Everything about Suzuki was perfect. His face, his etiquette, his monstrous talent, his towering chakra reserves—everything about him screamed ’absolute perfection.’ He was the ideal inheritor for both Hiruzen and Tsunade. If he had one major flaw, it was his terrifying obsession with amassing wealth.

”The ninja world is cruel and unforgiving! He should be focusing entirely on his combat and medical training, not running around playing merchant!” Tsunade huffed aggressively.

”That’s very true!” Shizune nodded vigorously, loyally agreeing with her master.

Both women conveniently ignored the fact that while their outfits hadn’t changed in style, the fabric of their clothes was now woven from the absolute highest-quality silk available in the Land of Fire, custom-ordered and paid for by Suzuki. Their lives were infinitely better solely because of his financial obsession.

”But, um... I still think his obsession with making money is a bit healthier than your obsession with gambling, Tsunade-sama...” Shizune muttered under her breath.

Tsunade shot her a deadly glare. ”What was that?!”

”N-Nothing!”

Tsunade snorted and looked away. Deep down, she knew Shizune was right. Compared to her own self-destructive gambling, Jiraiya’s delusional obsession with frog prophecies, and Orochimaru’s twisted pursuit of forbidden immortality, Suzuki’s obsession with money was remarkably sane and practical.

”When he gets back, I’m going to put him through a hellish test! Let’s see if his skills have dulled while he was out chasing coins!” Tsunade crossed her arms under her chest, causing her massive breasts to swell aggressively upwards. Despite her chronological age, the fiery determination in her eyes and her flawless features only accentuated her overwhelming, mature charm.

Meanwhile, completely unaware of the hellish training his busty mentor was planning for him, Suzuki was deeply focused on his newest venture: The Purr Network Agency.

He knew that to establish true economic dominance, he needed flawless logistics routes. The problem was that land logistics in the shinobi world were terribly inefficient. The roads were plagued by bandits and rogue ninja, and the capacity for moving bulk goods by wagon was severely limited.

If I remember correctly, there should be trains up north, Suzuki mused.

He recalled the first Naruto movie, set in the Snow Country, which featured advanced steam trains. Unfortunately, railway technology wouldn’t become widespread across the elemental nations until the Boruto era. While he desperately wanted to introduce rail networks to the Land of Fire, he knew the political climate wasn’t right yet, and he lacked the raw political influence to push through such massive infrastructure projects.

Patience.

While land routes were troublesome, maritime logistics were far more developed. Massive cargo ships could move exponential amounts of goods safely and cheaply, bypassing land borders entirely.

So, where could he acquire a cheap, reliable shipping company?

Hmm...

Purchasing an existing shipping fleet and securing port access required astronomical upfront capital. Suzuki hadn’t established a banking sector yet, so securing a massive loan quickly was impossible.

Wait a minute.

An idea suddenly struck him—a place where a fully operational, ready-made shipping company was currently sitting, severely undervalued and desperate.

A sharp, ruthless grin spread across Suzuki’s face.

I need to leave right now.

As for the Ninneko, the entire feline population of the hidden city had officially pledged their loyalty to him. They recognized the sheer genius of his global arbitrage plan. It was vastly superior to their dangerous, low-margin black-market weapons trading.

At the same time, when he thought of Tamaki, Nekobaa’s granddaughter, Suzuki felt a sudden pang of cynical realization regarding the canon timeline. In the original story, Tamaki eventually ended up with Kiba Inuzuka, a high-ranking member of the Konoha Military Police Force. It suddenly made perfect sense; having the Chief of Police as a lover would make running a black-market feline smuggling ring infinitely easier and safer.

What a dark, politically motivated romance...

Suzuki sighed inwardly. The Naruto universe was far from the bright, idealistic world of a boy proving everyone wrong. It was a deeply hidden dystopian society where the weak were forced to manipulate or rely on the strong just to survive.

He was determined to become the absolute apex of that system.

With the negotiations concluded, Suzuki prepared to head back to the hotel. Shiro and Kuro naturally wanted to follow him, but they knew their duty was to stay behind and instruct the rest of the Ninneko on how to properly establish the new spy network.

”Please leave the training to us, nyaa!”

”Don’t you dare sign contracts with any other cats except us, nyaa!”

Shiro and Kuro puffed out their chests, vowing to become the greatest intelligence operatives in history.

”....”

Suzuki was speechless at their dramatic display, but he nodded warmly. ”I’m counting on you both. Do your best.”

”NYAAAAAA!”

As the two cats saluted, Nekobaa stepped forward, a serious expression on her weathered face.

”Suzuki-kun, before you leave, we would like to present you with a gift.”

”A gift?” Suzuki raised an eyebrow, looking at Nekobaa and the gathered cats with mild curiosity.

”We know it might not seem like much to someone with your wealth,” Nekobaa said, gesturing to a large, cloth-wrapped bundle being carried over by four muscular cats. ”But given your raw physical strength and lack of a primary weapon, we believe this will be highly useful in your hands.”

They laid the heavy bundle at his feet and pulled back the cloth.

It was a massive, uniquely shaped weapon. It resembled a giant, flattened rolling pin, entirely wrapped in bandages, radiating a dense, oppressive chakra signature.

”....”

Suzuki stared at it, utterly speechless. He had never, in his wildest dreams, expected to find this specific weapon sitting in a black-market cat shop.