It had been two days since the end of the race.
At night, Star Gazaing Platform was still crowded with tourists. Even many of the civilians in Sunagakure, influenced by the escalating rumors of the Star God legend, had started to believe the tale that the Star God could bring happiness.
Whenever they had free time after work, they would tag along with the tourists toStar Gazaing Platform to "join in the excitement."
Unfortunately, apart from that night during the tournament when some people claimed to have seen the Star God, no one had spotted it again in the two nights since.
Voices of skepticism began to rise throughout the village. Many shinobi began to question whether the Star God even existed at all—some even suspected it had merely been some sort of mysterious ninjutsu.
In other words…
Sunagakure had blown it way out of proportion.
As a result, the Star God hype began to fade after two days of silence. Originally, Rasa had planned to have Temari bring out the "Constellation Legend Simulator" again to reignite interest, but upon reflection…
That would've come across as too forced.
If people noticed that sightings of the Star God conveniently started and stopped at will, they'd only become more convinced it was all a manufactured scam.
After all, why did it appear when you said it would, and vanish when you said it wouldn't?
It was obvious—someone was behind it.
This was the world of shinobi.
A world filled with endless possibilities.
Who could say that mysterious jutsu or secret kekkei genkai couldn't create something like a "Star God"?
Rasa had never intended to promote superstition. But in order to boost Sunagakure's tourism industry, preserving an air of mystery was still necessary—for now.
Thankfully, enough people had seen it the first night. And more importantly, two of the Sannin from Konohagakure had personally witnessed it.
When the Sannin spoke—their credibility was immense.
So no, not everyone saw it as a hoax.
In fact, the debate itself—whether real or fake—had become a kind of buzz. And that was valuable in its own right.
After thinking it over for a while, Rasa decided…
Let the hype run its course for a bit.
Meanwhile—
Now that most of Sunagakure's "tourist attractions" had been explored, the 4WD Grand Prix had ended, and the Star God craze was fading, many of the shinobi from other villages started to grow tired of all the sand and wind. One by one, they began heading home.
Even though the momentum didn't last forever, the few short days of the event had still brought a massive boost in revenue for Sunagakure.
Especially after finalizing trade agreements with both Kumogakure and Iwagakure—Sunagakure's commercial ventures could now officially enter the Land of Lightning and Land of Earth.
This would greatly accelerate the village's economic development.
And with word spreading that the Three Great Shinobi Villages had opened trade with Sunagakure, it was only a matter of time before smaller nations and hidden villages followed suit.
The peace that had followed the Third Great Ninja War had lasted quite a while. Even when the Fourth Great Ninja War began, there hadn't been any truly large-scale battles between the major villages.
The shinobi world was now trending toward a state of overall peace, with only localized conflicts.
Sure, thanks to Rasa's reckless schemes, the ninja world had changed quite a bit recently…
But in the grand scheme of things, the biggest change might just be Kaguya Ōtsutsuki challenging the entire world alone.
Nothing that couldn't be handled.
So for now, Sunagakure's priority remained clear: focus on development.
Somewhere in a remote corner of the village…
"So, customer, what would you like me to paint today?"
"A landscape? Nope! Can't do that!"
"A portrait? Nope! Can't do that either!"
"A 4WD sketch? Still nope!"
"You're asking what I can draw?" The voice gestured toward a nearby public restroom. "See that bathroom over there? Want me to draw the toilet? Nahhh… instead, how about you go inside and take a dump for me?"
The moment he said it—
"… … …"
The customer stormed off in a huff.
Tobi scoffed after him and muttered disdainfully, "Three days now, and still not one commission?!"
It wasn't that he could only draw poop, okay?
After all, the Bakusō Kyōdai Let's & Go manga—that was his creation. His art was good.
But…
That still wasn't the kind of art he truly dreamed of!
That manga… it had corrupted the purity of his artistic soul. It had made his untainted, burning passion feel violated.
So when he finally got two days off, he decided to grab his sketchpad and paints, pull on his cap, and go searching again.
Searching for…
The original dream.
Because he, Tobi…
Was destined to be the greatest artist in shinobi history.
He just wanted to return to that pure, untouched dream of his.
Unfortunately, no one seemed capable of appreciating his vision.
He stuck out his tongue and made a weird face at the people passing by.
"Bunch of artless morons…"
Packing up his things, he turned to head back to the lab.
Two days wasted, and not a single painting completed.
"You all ignore me now… but one day—you'll be begging to see my art!"
Carrying his drawing board on his back, Tobi walked away with his head held high, muttering his own delusions aloud.
He believed it, truly—
One day… his art would be celebrated by countless fans.
At that point, each of his pieces would sell for at least one hundred million—no, a billion ryo!
He'd even host his own solo exhibitions, showcasing his genius to the entire shinobi world.
Too bad…
That day still seemed a long way off.
At the very least, they'd have to wait until Lady Kaguya fully awakened and unified the ninja world.
"When that day comes… anyone who doesn't acknowledge my greatness—will all be turned into White Zetsu."
With that vow, Tobi suddenly shivered.
"Brrr… getting colder again. Wait—something's not right…"
He scratched his head in confusion.
"White Zetsu aren't supposed to feel cold. So why…?"
Unable to figure it out, he dropped the thought and cheerfully continued on his way.
He didn't notice—
Behind him…
Several figures, tightly wrapped and hidden in cloaks, were staring silently at his retreating back.
"That's the guy? The announcer?"
A cold voice rang out.
...
Meanwhile, underground…
"Shouldn't we warn Tobi?"
"Nah, leave him. That guy's been getting way too full of himself lately. Just a few days ago, he tried to make me go into a toilet and collect his crap!"
"Same here! He told me to carry his drawing board—said that now that he's Deputy Director and an artist, he needs minions to carry his tools. Claimed he had high hopes for me, too."
"Uh-huh! He even came to me, said I was 'witnessing a miracle'—a moment in ninja history! And if I did a good job luring in customers, he'd give me a priceless painting and explain his philosophy of poop."
"So… we're really not warning him?"
"Nope! Let him get clobbered. The original said he needs a good beating, and even Black Zetsu wants to hit him! He actually had the nerve to act all high-and-mighty in front of us?"
"Yeah! Beat him up! Beat him good!"
The other White Zetsu clones raised their fists in agreement.
Then suddenly—
"Uh… what if he actually dies?"
One of the clones hesitantly raised his hand.
Silence fell over the group.
After a moment of awkward stillness—
"How about this: we watch from a distance. If it looks like he's about to die, we swoop in and save him."
Can't risk any secrets getting exposed, after all.
"That's smart! Good idea."
Unanimous approval.
Their conclusion was clear—
Tobi. Must. Get. Beat. Down.
Hard.