Three days after Old Tanaka left, Sato Fan had already gone through all the accounts in the warehouse.
The general ledger recorded the entire assets of this armory.
He spent two whole days reading page by page and calculating line by line, engraving every number into his mind.
But as he looked, he discovered a problem.
Konoha Village has nearly twenty thousand Ninjas.
Even if only one-third of them come to collect public equipment, that’s over six thousand people.
Yet the numbers in his warehouse didn’t seem to match this scale.
He took the general ledger to find Section Chief Yamada.
Yamada was drinking tea and reading the newspaper in his office.
Hearing his question, he put down his cup and glanced at him.
“That warehouse of yours is just one of the branch warehouses,” Yamada said.
“Konoha has seven weapon warehouses in total, scattered across different areas of the Village.
You manage the East Third Warehouse, mainly responsible for the daily supplies of several departments near the Logistics Area.
The main force’s equipment is in the Central Warehouse, which has much more than yours.”
“Then the scale of my warehouse is…”
“Below average.” Yamada flipped through the documents in his hand.
“Your warehouse mainly issues equipment to people in the Logistics Area.
The turnover rate is low, so the inventory doesn’t need to be too large.
But it’s not a small amount either—have you calculated it yourself?”
Sato Fan shook his head.
“Go back and calculate it properly.” Yamada waved his hand.
“How can you manage a warehouse without knowing the numbers?”
Sato Fan didn’t ask further.
After returning to the warehouse, he turned to the last page of the general ledger and found a simple map of the Village’s Logistics Area.
The East Third Warehouse was just a small dot on the map, labeled with the words “Regular Inventory · Low Turnover.” Low turnover meant not many people came to collect items, but the numbers were not small—it just seemed like less compared to the Central Warehouse.
He sat down again, opened the general ledger, and began to seriously calculate the assets of his warehouse.
Area A: standard kunai, 12,000 on the books.
Weighted Kunai, 6,000.
Practice Kunai, 3,000.
shuriken, a total of 12,000.
Area B: Ordinary explosive tags, 4,500.
Great Explosive Tags, 60, locked in a metal cabinet.
Area C: food pills, 20,000.
With a shelf life of one year, thirty boxes will expire in two months, stamped with a red “Pending Scrap” mark.
Area D: 400 Blank Sealing Scrolls, 150 Low-level Sealing Technique Scrolls.
60 Chakra-conducting Metal Kunai, also locked in a metal cabinet.
Sato Fan copied these numbers into his notebook and then began to mark the prices one by one.
He had collected the price data through various channels over the past month—some were mentioned casually by Old Tanaka, some were seen on purchase orders, and some he inferred by looking at the price tags in front of Tenten’s family weapon shop.
According to Konoha’s official pricing, converted into Ryo, it was crystal clear.
standard kunai, the public procurement price is 50 Ryo each.
With 12,000 on the books, the total value is 600,000 Ryo.
Weighted Kunai, which use more materials and have complex craftsmanship, have a procurement price of 100 Ryo each.
For 6,000 of them, the total value is 600,000 Ryo.
Practice Kunai, with thin sheet metal and light weight, are used for student training, with a procurement price of 30 Ryo each.
For 3,000 of them, the total value is 90,000 Ryo.
shuriken, ordinary model, 30 Ryo each.
For 12,000 of them, the total value is 360,000 Ryo.
Ordinary explosive tags, 100 Ryo each.
For 4,500 of them, the total value is 450,000 Ryo.
Great Explosive Tags, 60 of them, procurement price 300 Ryo each, total value 18,000 Ryo.
food pills, ordinary model, 30 Ryo each.
Blank Sealing Scrolls, 400 of them, procurement price 150 Ryo each, total value 60,000 Ryo.
Low-level Sealing Technique Scrolls, 150 of them, procurement price 300 Ryo each, total value 45,000 Ryo.
Chakra-conducting Metal Kunai, 60 of them, procurement price 800 Ryo each, total value 48,000 Ryo.
He added up all the numbers.
Not counting special items like Great Explosive Tags and Chakra metal Kunai, the total book value of just the regular supplies exceeded 2.7 million Ryo.
2.7 million Ryo, converted at the official exchange rate, is equivalent to about 1.35 million RMB in purchasing power!
This was the book value of just one of his warehouses.
Adding up all seven warehouses in Konoha, the value of the weapon reserves was at least 15 million Ryo or more.
And what about his monthly salary?
As a Genin with a fixed salary, it’s about 5,000 Ryo a month, which converts to around 3,000 RMB.
Saving for a year without eating or drinking would only yield 60,000 Ryo, which wasn’t even a fraction of this warehouse’s total.
Sato Fan leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
He turned to the “Damage and Loss” section of the general ledger and copied the records for the past year.
On average, 80 to 120 Kunai, 50 to 80 shuriken, 30 to 50 explosive tags, and 200 to 300 food pills were reported as damaged or lost each month.
Some of these materials were genuinely broken—Kunai with chipped edges, deformed shuriken, damp explosive tags, or expired food pills.
But what the standard for “broken” was, who judged it, and how it was handled after the judgment, all depended on the warehouse manager.
He picked up a pen and wrote down a “Monthly Operation Plan” in his notebook.
standard kunai, with a monthly damage quota of 80 to 120.
He could write the actual loss as 100 on the books, where 20 or 30 were truly broken, and the remaining “damaged” ones were actually intact and put into his own reserve.
With a procurement price of 50 Ryo each, he could “operate” 3,000 to 4,000 Ryo worth of value from Kunai in a month.
Fuma Shuriken, with 10 to 20 reported as damaged each month.
At 100 Ryo each, that’s 1,000 to 2,000 Ryo per month.
shuriken, with a damage quota of 50 to 80, operating 30 to 40 of them at 30 Ryo each, would be 900 to 1,200 Ryo per month.
explosive tags, with a damage quota of 30 to 50, operating 20 of them.
At 100 Ryo each, that’s 2,000 Ryo per month.
food pills, with a damage quota of 200 to 300, plus the batches about to expire, operating about 150 pills per month.
At 30 Ryo each, that’s 4,500 Ryo per month.
Adding these up, he could “reasonably” operate about 11,000 to 13,000 Ryo worth of materials from the books each month.
What does 12,000 Ryo represent?
A bowl of Ichiraku Ramen is 80 Ryo, enough for 150 bowls.
A Chunin earns 30,000 to 100,000 Ryo for a C-rank Mission, but that’s the income for the whole team; what reaches an individual’s hand is only a few thousand Ryo.
The value of the materials he “operated” in a month was higher than a Chunin’s income from a single mission.
More importantly, what he operated with wasn’t money, but materials.
Kunai, shuriken, explosive tags, food pills—these things are more useful than money at critical moments.
When the Fourth Shinobi World War breaks out, having money might not guarantee buying equipment, but if he has already saved it up in advance, he won’t have to scramble at the last minute.
He closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer.
There were also the Ninjutsu scrolls left by Old Tanaka.
Once he practiced these two techniques to proficiency, he would consider other matters.
He picked up “Introduction and Advanced Body Flicker Technique” and opened the first page.
Old Tanaka’s handwriting came into view:
“Body Flicker Technique, C-rank Ninjutsu, hand sign sequence: Snake-Ram-Monkey.
The principle is to burst Chakra instantly at the soles of the feet, giving the caster the ability to move at ultra-high speed for a very short duration.
The difficulty in cultivation lies in the timing of the Chakra burst and direction control.
Common mistakes for beginners are—”
Sato Fan spread the scroll on the table, gesturing the hand signs while reading.
Snake, Ram, Monkey.
Three signs, half as many as the six signs for the Shadow Clone.
But Old Tanaka’s notes said: the difficulty of the Body Flicker Technique isn’t in the signs, but in the instant burst of Chakra.
Burst too early and you won’t launch; burst too late and you’ll hit a wall.
He practiced the hand sign sequence over a dozen times, then put away the scroll, stood up, and walked to the open space behind the warehouse.
The sun was just right, and only his own shadow was on the open ground.
Then the Ram sign, the Monkey sign—
“Poof.”
No white smoke, no afterimage; he just took a large leap forward and almost tripped.
He hadn’t even touched the basics of the Body Flicker Technique.
Sato Fan stood firm, patted the dust off his body, and readjusted his breathing.
No need to rush.
He practiced the Shadow Clone for over a month; the Body Flicker Technique would take at least a few weeks.
He had plenty of time now, so what was the rush?
He tried again.
This time was a bit better than the last; at least he didn’t fall.
A third time, a fourth time, a fifth time.
He practiced until the sun began to set in the west before stopping, returning to the warehouse, and locking the door.
By the time he walked out of the Logistics Area, it was almost dark.
The streetlights weren’t on yet, and there were already fewer people on the streets.
He walked home along the familiar path, and when passing the Hokage Building, he saw that the lights were still on in the windows upstairs.
He wondered who was working overtime.
He touched the scrolls in his pocket.
Two rolls, hard, pressed against his chest.
When he got home, Sato Umeko was busy in the kitchen.
Sato Michi was sitting on the sofa reading the newspaper; seeing his son come in, he put down the paper.
“Why so late again today?”
“Overtime.”
“Does your warehouse have overtime every day?”
“Just today.”
Sato Fan changed his shoes, washed his hands, and sat at the dining table.
Sato Umeko came out of the kitchen carrying a pot of soup and placed it on the table.
“I made pork rib soup today, drink more,” she said.
“Okay.”
Sato Fan picked up the bowl and took a sip of the soup.
The ribs were stewed very tender, the soup was rich, and his mother’s cooking was as good as ever.
While eating, he was still thinking about what Old Tanaka had said.
Konoha doesn’t lack geniuses, nor does it lack hardworking people.
If a mouse hides in a hole, anyone can step on it.
Every sentence was like a nail, driven into his mind.
He didn’t know how much Old Tanaka had guessed.
Was it just that he was hiding his true abilities and practicing in secret, or had he even guessed what he planned to do?
But Old Tanaka didn’t expose him.
Not only did he not expose him, but he also gave him two scrolls and taught him how to become stronger.
“Because you are not a genius.”
That was Old Tanaka’s reason.
Perhaps it was because of a Jonin from a civilian background looking out for another Ninja from a civilian background.
Sato Fan finished the soup in his bowl and stood up to help his mother clear the dishes.
Back in his room, he took the two scrolls out of his pocket and put them in the secret compartment.
Then he lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
He closed his eyes, and his mind was already calculating tomorrow’s plan: first, do the inventory in the morning to complete today’s accounts.
Practice the Body Flicker Technique during the lunch break.
Practice the Mud Wall before getting off work.
Practice hand signs at home in the evening.
Life is getting better and better.