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

”...You black-market arms dealers really have some nerve keeping a weapon like this.”

Suzuki stared at the massive, bandage-wrapped blade, genuinely impressed by the sheer audacity of the Ninneko. He had severely underestimated their procurement network.

Nekobaa, Hina, and Momo all grinned, their eyes flashing with unmistakable pride.

”Do you dare to accept it, Tanaka-kun?” Nekobaa challenged, taking a slow drag from her pipe.

Why would she ask that? Because this wasn’t just some high-grade steel. This was one of the legendary Seven Ninja Swords of the Mist. It was worshipped by the shinobi of Kirigakure and stood as an absolute symbol of their village’s martial supremacy.

Yet, somehow, a group of black-market cats had managed to smuggle one out of the Bloody Mist.

Frankly, Kirigakure wasn’t as terrifying as it used to be. A certain masked man had plunged the village into a horrific, blood-soaked civil war, severely weakening its military structure. However, their geographical isolation as an island nation still made them a formidable force. Stealing one of their sacred swords was an act of war.

Still, while Suzuki was surprised by the political implications, he also sighed when he properly analyzed the weapon the cats had presented him.

Shibuki (The Splash) - The ”Kamikaze” Suppressor.

The name and epithet sounded incredibly badass, but looking at it objectively, Suzuki couldn’t help but see it for what it truly was: a giant, explosive rolling pin. In the hands of a normal shinobi, it was practically a suicide weapon.

Yes, Shibuki was terrifying in terms of raw, suppressive firepower. The blade housed a massive, unrolling scroll packed with thousands of explosive tags. When the sword struck a target, the scroll unrolled, instantly detonating the tags at point-blank range.

In standard melee combat, blocking is how you survive. Shibuki completely deleted the concept of blocking. If an enemy successfully guarded your sword swing, the explosion went off anyway, blowing their guard—and their arms—to bloody pieces.

The massive, glaring flaw was the blast radius. The user was invariably caught in their own explosion. Unless the wielder possessed a heavy defensive jutsu (like Kakuzu’s Diamond-hard Earth Spear) or an advanced, instantaneous healing factor, every swing was a game of Russian Roulette.

While Suzuki wasn’t a tank, his physical durability had skyrocketed thanks to the passive influences of his alternate selves. But there was a second, massive logistical problem with Shibuki: the ammunition.

The sword didn’t possess an infinite supply of explosive tags. The more you swung it, the faster you ran out. And explosive tags were incredibly expensive! To use Shibuki effectively was to literally burn money with every strike.

Fortunately, Suzuki had two distinct advantages. First, his Manager could easily reverse-engineer the chemical and chakra composition of the explosive tags, allowing him to manufacture them at cost rather than paying retail black-market prices.

Second, and far more terrifyingly, he had mastered Hiruzen Sarutobi’s trademark technique: the Shuriken Shadow Clone Jutsu.

By applying Hiruzen’s jutsu, Suzuki could theoretically turn a single explosive tag into ten thousand physical, fully-primed explosive clones mid-air. It would turn a localized melee strike into a tactical carpet-bombing.

If he applied that logic to Shibuki, what would happen?

Instead of letting the weapon burn through its expensive physical ammunition, he would never actually expend the real tags. The sword would unroll a single tag, multiply it into a thousand, and detonate the clones. The sword would permanently remain fully loaded. Infinite ammunition.

However, this overpowered synergy introduced one critical, apocalyptic problem: the blast radius.

If Suzuki swung Shibuki in close-quarters combat and multiplied the explosion by a thousand, the resulting thermobaric blast would instantly vaporize the enemy, the surrounding forest, and Suzuki himself.

It needs heavy modifications, Suzuki concluded, his eyes gleaming. Despite the fatal flaws, he was deeply attracted to the concept of the blade.

”I apologize if it seems like a burden,” Nekobaa sighed, her smug grin fading into a weary look. ”But to be perfectly honest, we don’t have much else of value to offer you.”

After the massacre of the Uchiha clan, the Ninneko’s primary source of income and protection had vanished overnight. Because of their deep ties to the clan, they had been forced into hiding in this abandoned city to avoid suspicion and political backlash. Their golden era was over.

Suzuki’s offer to build a global intelligence network was their only chance to return to their former glory. Shibuki was the only artifact they possessed that was valuable enough to serve as a proper sign of their absolute loyalty.

”Will it cause you too much political trouble?” Nekobaa asked, suddenly realizing the implications. What would happen if the Hokage’s personal disciple was caught wielding a stolen Kirigakure relic?

”No, it’s fine,” Suzuki replied smoothly, resting his hand on the bandaged hilt. ”I can just change its shape later.”

He didn’t mind the gift at all; in fact, he welcomed it. The ’rolling pin’ design was incredibly ugly anyway. Since he had been practicing his martial arts and incorporating weapon techniques, he had been looking for a signature blade. Shibuki’s explosive nature synchronized perfectly with his innate Fire Release affinity.

”I am very glad you like it,” Nekobaa sighed in relief. ”If you want, our smiths can customize the shape of the sword to your exact specifications right here.”

”Really?”

”Yes,” Nekobaa nodded proudly. ”We pride ourselves on our custom weapon modifications. It’s why the Uchiha always bought from us.”

”How long will a complete re-forging take?”

”Er... a few months, at least?”

”.....”

Suzuki remained silent for a moment before deciding it was better to handle it himself. With the Manager running complex metallurgical simulations, and tapping into the crafting knowledge of the Arifureta Suzuki, he could do it much faster and with far better materials.

Is that possible, right, Manager? he asked internally.

[Affirmative. The structural modification and chakra-conduction integration is entirely possible.]

Good.

”It’s okay. I can handle the modifications myself,” Suzuki said aloud.

”...” Nekobaa and the cats stared at him in disbelief.

”But, I will need you to procure all of these specific metals for me,” Suzuki added, quickly writing out a detailed list of rare conductive alloys and handing it to Momo.

The cats immediately scrambled to fulfill the order.

As Suzuki looked back down at the bandaged Shibuki, a terrifying, highly lethal combat style began to formulate in his mind. Once he modified this blade to suit his exact needs, his offensive capabilities would skyrocket.

With his business empire expanding and his new weapon secured, Suzuki returned to his hotel in high spirits, expecting a quiet evening.

Instead, he walked right into a massive problem.

”Where exactly have you been?”

Tsunade was standing in the center of his room, her arms crossed tightly beneath her chest, aggressively accentuating the shape of the massive mountains pushing against her shirt. She glared down at him menacingly, looking exactly like a furious mother waiting up for her delinquent son who had stayed out way past curfew.