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Making Money
A week later, the puppet finally finished excavating the spaces for the bedroom and the isolation room. Shirō had also completed the renovation of the bedroom, successfully integrating it into the magic barrier system.
Unfortunately, the isolation room was only half-finished when Shirō ran out of money.
He had underestimated just how terrifying the money-burning efficiency of his own extravagant methods was. After setting up the outer magic barrier, his savings had already been severely depleted. With the additional construction of the bedroom and the isolation room, he was now almost completely broke.
That he had lasted this long was only because he had been collecting materials intermittently over the past few years. Otherwise, the isolation room wouldn't even have reached its current state.
Left with no other choice, Shirō halted the construction of the Workshop and decided to make some money first. If he didn't, he wouldn't even be able to afford the maintenance costs for the puppet.
For a ninja, the fastest and most stable way to earn money was through missions—especially bounty missions issued through the underground Exchanges.
Of course, Shirō also had a few special methods that could bring in a large sum of money very quickly. However, those methods couldn't be used repeatedly in a short period of time, so he wouldn't act unless there was a truly major client.
For now, the underground Exchange would be his primary source of income.
And this was where the advantage of his chosen location became evident. The region was chaotic, which meant underground Exchanges were plentiful, making it extremely convenient to accept missions.
After arriving in a small town, Shirō merely took a short walk before locating the Exchange.
He didn't bother with any elaborate disguise. Wearing only his smiling face mask, he walked straight inside. The lookouts didn't stop him. After all, the difference between a ninja and an ordinary civilian was obvious at a glance—especially when no effort was made to conceal it.
Inside, the Exchange resembled Konoha's mission assignment hall, except far more crude. There were no desks or orderly counters—just a few bulletin boards plastered with bounty notices, and an old man handling transactions alone.
Shirō casually glanced over the boards. Most of the bounties were absurdly ambitious: the Five Kage, the Five Great Daimyō, and several famous ninja, each with sky-high rewards.
None of them concerned him. He wasn't suicidal.
Shirō's presence didn't attract much attention. Aside from the sparse crowd, this was largely due to the Noble Phantasm he had Projected before entering.
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Secret of Pedigree — Hidden Helmet of Infidelity
Rank: C
Type: Anti-Father (Self)
Range: 0
Maximum Targets: 1
A helmet gifted by Morgan, accompanied by the words: "You must never take it off."
Its original effect was to conceal part of Mordred's Status. While it could not hide general parameters or class skills, it completely concealed critical information such as the true name, Noble Phantasm, and unique abilities.
While the helmet was active, "Clarent Blood Arthur (Rebellion Against My Beautiful Father)" could not be used. Only when the helmet and armor formed a complete set—and the helmet was removed—would the full Status be released. Upon release, the helmet would split in two and merge into the armor.
Although the helmet and armor possessed no special abilities beyond this, they had high resistance to magecraft, external interference, and even provided limited protection against toxins.
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In this world, however, the Noble Phantasm's effect had subtly changed.
Instead of directly concealing information, it caused blurring.
People could see Shirō clearly, yet they couldn't record his appearance by any means. Even their memories of him would grow vague and indistinct over time, as though his presence refused to settle in their minds.
Once they noticed this phenomenon, most people simply stopped paying attention.
From their perspective, it was clearly the effect of some obscure ninjutsu. Staring harder wouldn't accomplish anything, and doing so would only risk offending someone dangerous. Only someone with far too much free time would keep probing.
To further reduce suspicion, Shirō had altered the projected appearance of the Noble Phantasm, compressing it so it could be hidden beneath his mask. Wearing a helmet indoors would have drawn unnecessary attention.
Satisfied that no one was bothering him, Shirō walked over to the old man.
"Do you have any additional bounty lists?"
Hearing Shirō's slightly youthful voice, the old man paused, then smiled faintly.
"Little friend, your mask is interesting, but this isn't a place you should be."
Shirō didn't reply.
Slap.
He placed a forehead protector onto the table—its metal plate marked with a deep, horizontal scratch.
The protector had been damaged by Shirō long ago. When operating outside the village, he used the identity of a Konoha rogue ninja, a title that carried significant deterrence.
Of course, he wasn't truly a defector. Whenever he returned to the village, he would simply apply for a new forehead protector. The process wasn't difficult—any plausible excuse would do.
And truthfully, he didn't possess any deep sense of reverence toward the village symbol. Scratching it hadn't bothered him in the slightest.
The old man's smile vanished.
He might not have been able to identify the owner of the forehead protector, but he could tell it was genuine. Each hidden village left subtle, distinctive traces in their protectors—details impossible to replicate casually.
Possessing one like this could only mean a few things: killing a Konoha ninja, killing a Konoha rogue ninja, or being a rogue ninja himself.
The possibility that it was simply picked up was laughable.
More importantly, the old man could faintly sense the strange ninjutsu effect surrounding Shirō. Without hesitation, he understood that the youth before him was anything but ordinary.
Rogue ninja from the major villages were rarely weak. The weak ones didn't survive long enough to earn the title.
Silently, the old man reached beneath the table and pulled out a thick stack of bounty slips, handing them over.
This was also why Shirō wore a smiling face mask. It made him seem… less overtly vicious, which was likely why the old man had dared to joke at first. Had it been someone else, he wouldn't have spoken so casually. His predecessor had once been killed for mocking a ninja who came to accept a mission.
He had no intention of repeating that mistake.
Those who survived to old age in this line of work were never simple people.
Shirō accepted the stack, pocketed his forehead protector, and moved to the side to browse.
He had clear criteria when choosing missions.
High pay. Fast completion.
Bounties on heads took priority. Missions involving theft or forced acquisition also caught his attention, though those were rare—and usually far more troublesome.
Unless the target was something he personally wanted.
In that case, he would accept the mission purely to gather information. Whether the mission was completed afterward was another matter entirely.
Failure carried no penalty.
That was the beauty of the underground Exchange.
They didn't care who took the mission, or how many accepted it. Only results mattered. Whether he succeeded or failed was irrelevant—someone else would eventually finish the job.
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