Naruto: The Shameless Uchiha Tycoon

The Inner Palace was not a building. It was a completely different world.

There was no stone, no armor, and no iron. The inner sanctum was constructed entirely of polished cedar, rice-paper screens that glowed like soft lanterns, and vast, climate-controlled indoor gardens where exotic flowers bloomed out of season.

Ren walked down the lacquered hallway, his leather-soled shoes completely silent. He wore his charcoal-black formal kimono and the short Uchiha haori, moving with the practiced grace of a young noble.

Kakuzu and Pakura flanked him.

Kakuzu’s heavy midnight-indigo court robes made him look like a royal executioner, his towering frame casting a massive shadow across the paper walls. Pakura moved with sleek, lethal grace in her sand-gold guard kimono, her lacquered bracers catching the light. They were terrifying, but perfectly packaged for the aristocracy.

Lord Kazama met them at the entrance to the East Salon, sweating heavily through his pale-green robes.

”This is the inner court, Uchiha-san,” Kazama whispered in a panic, eyeing Kakuzu. ”Very exclusive. Please, for the love of the gods, do not break anything.”

Ren just smiled and walked in.

The East Salon was vast, smelling faintly of delicate, powdery incense. Fifteen of the most powerful women in the Fire Country sat on plush silk cushions, arranged around a central low table. These were the wives of high-ranking ministers and regional trade envoys.

At the center sat Lady Madoka, the Daimyo’s wife. She was draped in twelve layers of indigo and pale violet silk, her hair held by intricate gold pins. Her eyes were sharp, carrying a look of absolute, aristocratic boredom.

As Ren’s trio entered, the room collectively paused.

The noblewomen stared at Kakuzu’s terrifying size, their fans fluttering nervously. They stared at Pakura’s cold, striking beauty.

And then, they stared at Ren. A thirteen-year-old boy in a formal kimono, carrying a heavy cedar box, projecting an aura of complete control.

”You are the alchemist?” Lady Madoka asked, her voice soft but carrying undeniable authority. ”You look more like a young lord.”

”Artistry pays well, Her Grace,” Ren replied, offering a flawless, court-appropriate bow.

He walked to the low table, placed the cedar box down, and unlatched the heavy brass lock.

”I was informed your court enjoyed the soap samples,” Ren said smoothly. ”But those were merely the foundation. Today, I brought the future of our production line. These are exclusive prototypes.”

Ren popped the lid.

The scent hit the room like a physical wave. The heavy, intoxicating aroma of jasmine, sandalwood, crushed roses, and vanilla instantly overpowered the salon’s standard incense.

The noblewomen leaned forward, their eyes widening.

Inside the velvet-lined box were several small, ornate glass jars and crystal vials—high-end System purchases Ren had bought specifically for this demonstration.

Ren pulled out a small crystal vial of concentrated perfume and handed it to a minister’s wife. She unstoppered it and gasped.

”Oh, my,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. ”It smells... it smells like an entire orchard blooming at midnight.”

Ren handed a small, pearl-white jar of cosmetic cream to another noblewoman. ”A revitalizing compound. Try a small amount on your cheek.”

The woman dabbed her finger into the pristine cream and applied it to her skin. The System-grade cosmetic absorbed instantly, leaving zero greasy residue. The dull, slightly powdered look of her traditional makeup was instantly replaced by a vibrant, hydrated glow.

”Look at her face!” another woman whispered loudly. ”Her skin is literally glowing! It looks like silk!”

”It feels like silk,” the woman gasped, touching her own cheek in disbelief. ”It’s so light. I’ve never felt a paste like this.”

The room erupted into a flurry of excited, cheerful whispers. The aristocratic boredom had vanished, replaced by desperate, unfiltered consumer desire. They were starved for true luxury, and Ren had just dropped a masterpiece in their laps.

Ren let them chatter for a moment, letting the desire peak. Then, he turned his full attention to the Daimyo’s wife.

He reached into the center of the box and pulled out an elegant, frosted-glass bottle filled with a rich, pearl-colored lotion.

”And what is that?” Lady Madoka asked, her eyes locked onto the bottle.

”This is a moisturizer,” Ren explained, his voice dropping into a smooth, low cadence that cut through the room’s chatter. ”Traditional creams sit on top of the skin. They mask the weathering of the sun and wind. This does not mask. It penetrates deep into the pores, sealing in hydration and actively repairing the skin’s texture.”

He stepped closer to her cushion. Kakuzu shifted slightly behind him, a silent, towering wall of intimidation that ensured none of the other women interrupted.

”May I demonstrate, Her Grace?” Ren asked respectfully.

Lady Madoka hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, slowly, she extended her pale, perfectly manicured hand.

Ren took it.

His young fingers were warm, firm, and completely devoid of the trembling hesitation royalty usually expected from commoners. The other women hid their shocked whispers behind their fans. A boy, handling the Daimyo’s wife?

Ren ignored them completely. He poured a small pool of the rich moisturizer into his own palm, rubbing his hands together to warm the lotion.

Then, he began the application.

He started at the tips of her fingers, his thumbs working in slow, methodical circles. The heavy, sweet scent of vanilla and sandalwood bloomed between them. He massaged the lotion into her knuckles, the palm of her hand, and traced the soft skin of her inner wrist.

Madoka’s breath hitched slightly. The lotion felt incredible—cooling, yet warmed by his touch, melting seamlessly into her skin.

Ren didn’t stop at the wrist.

His hands moved up her forearm. His touch was strictly professional, yet inherently, dangerously intimate. The proximity, the intense focus in his dark Uchiha eyes, and the sheer physical relief of the massage created a sudden, suffocating bubble of sensual tension in the salon.

”The compounds relax the muscles while they hydrate,” Ren murmured, his voice a quiet purr meant only for her.

He reached her elbow, smoothing the lotion over the delicate skin, before looking up into her eyes.

”Tension often settles higher up, Her Grace,” Ren noted softly. ”If I may?”

Madoka was completely flustered, her aristocratic mask slipping. She gave a small, breathless nod, slightly tilting her head to the side.

Ren poured another drop of the warm lotion onto his fingertips. He leaned in, closing the distance. He applied the moisturizer to the curve of her neck, right where her heavy silk kimono dipped to reveal her collarbone.

His fingers were firm, pressing into the tight muscles of her shoulder. He worked the lotion into her skin with slow, deliberate strokes. The rich moisturizer left a radiant, flawless sheen on her neck.

For a long moment, the only sound in the salon was the soft rustle of silk and Madoka’s slightly accelerated breathing.

Ren finally stepped back, gently letting her hand go. He wiped his hands on a clean silk cloth.

Madoka sat frozen. She stared at her glowing arm, tracing the incredibly soft skin of her own neck. She brought her wrist to her nose, inhaling the deep, intoxicating scent that was now baked into her pores.

The other women were practically vibrating with envy.

”I have never felt anything like it,” Lady Madoka breathed. Her eyes snapped up to Ren, flashing with a sudden, ruthless hunger.

She didn’t look at him like a merchant anymore. She looked at him like he was holding the keys to eternal youth.

”I am told the bureaucrats in Konoha are holding up your supply lines,” Madoka stated, her voice hardening.

Ren nodded calmly. ”Red tape. They claim my production facilities are a security risk.”

”I do not wait for red tape,” Madoka said coldly. She looked around the room at the other noblewomen, then back to Ren. ”I want exclusive procurement rights for this entire region. My inner circle will be the sole possessors of this product line. No other noble house, no other merchant guild, and certainly no hidden village will receive these goods without my authorization.”

Ren smiled. A dark, shark-like grin.

She wasn’t just buying moisturizer. She was buying a monopoly.

”A brilliant strategy, Her Grace,” Ren said smoothly, offering a deep bow. ”Maintaining absolute scarcity is the key to preserving value. But securing an exclusive royal concession carries a significant premium.”

He paused, letting the silence hang in the air, ensuring every woman in the room was listening.

”Ten million ryo,” Ren stated softly. ”Upfront. In gold.”

A collective gasp echoed through the salon. Kazama looked like he was going to pass out on the spot. Ten million ryo was the price of a small fortress.

Lady Madoka didn’t even blink.

”Kazama,” she ordered, not looking away from Ren’s dark eyes. ”Instruct the royal treasury to transfer ten million ryo in gold bars to this young master’s estate immediately. And draft the legal contract for sole distribution.”

She looked back at the Uchiha boy.

”You have your gold, Alchemist. I want the first industrial shipment in one week.”

”It is a pleasure doing business with you, Her Grace,” Ren said.

The permit wall in Konoha hadn’t just been bypassed. It had just been obliterated by a royal sledgehammer.