Chapter 17: Making Money at the Casino
"Our first goal now is to settle all of the Uchiha clansmen. Surviving in this world requires a lot of money. And to earn that money, we can only use relatively legal and orderly means. We Uchiha are not bandits."
"I think the simplest thing would be to stick to our old line of work as ninja—taking on commissioned missions. But right now we're strangers in a foreign land, nobody knows us, and our reputation hasn't spread. We can't possibly start that kind of business right away."
"So for now, I think we should first make sure our clansmen are settled here. As for us four, we'll go scout the way ahead."
Inahibi, Tekkoka, and Honoka all voiced no objections. Although Uchiha Akira was younger than them, he was the clan leader, and his strength surpassed theirs—after all, even a single Mangekyō Sharingan was still a Mangekyō.
Don't underestimate the power of a "village chief." Look at Danzo—didn't he work his whole life just for that position?
Moreover, for some reason, the three of them felt their clan leader was adapting to this world extremely quickly. They had thought Akira might have explored this world before, but never realized that he himself was originally from modern society.
By evening, the Uchiha clansmen had already built simple shelters. After all, felling trees and chopping wood wasn't difficult for shinobi. But since none of them were professional builders, the makeshift wooden houses came out in bizarre, irregular shapes.
Still, shinobi were people accustomed to harsh conditions, so not even the children complained.
Their clansmen being so considerate only made the weight on Uchiha Akira's shoulders heavier.
"Today, let's explore a bit farther out," he said, and with his left eye's Mangekyō, he opened a space portal.
"This one I opened by instinct—it shouldn't be too far. Wait here a moment, I'll scout ahead first."
"No, Clan Leader, let us go first. What if there's danger?" Honoka shook his head, rejecting the idea.
"Forget it, let's not argue. How about we all go together? That way we can watch each other's backs." Akira realized that if he tried to take point, these three would never agree.
So the four of them stepped through the portal together.
On the other side was a landscape of trees and shrubs, clearly man-made. Every few hundred meters stood wooden benches—obviously a park.
"Everyone, use Transformation Jutsu to disguise yourselves. The Uchiha uniforms are far too conspicuous." Akira reminded them. It wasn't that wearing Uchiha garb would cause huge problems, but better to avoid unnecessary trouble when a simple jutsu could solve it.
Before long, they encountered a woman jogging in sportswear—a crop top baring her midriff and yoga pants.
"Excuse me, may I ask…?"
She stopped at Akira's question, replying, "Can you speak English?"
So she was a native English speaker. Akira then began conversing with her in broken English.
His English was poor, but his thick skin—and handsome looks paired with his tall, strong build—made the jogger enjoy chatting with him nonetheless.
With a sweet smile, she waved goodbye, and Akira got exactly the information he wanted.
"We should be in New York, America. Lucky for us, this is just the place we were looking for—Manhattan's Central Park."
"Speaking of which, America's wealthiest tycoon is Stark. But since we have no connections to him, we'll need to figure out our own way to settle the clan first."
"Clan Leader, what does 'tycoon' mean? Like the Inuzuka clan?" Honoka asked, making Akira burst out laughing.
"It just means someone ridiculously rich. Tony Stark is a famous billionaire—probably the richest man in the country. But he's got a nasty temper, and taking his money through legal means won't be easy. We're strangers here—we can't just show up at his door and threaten him."
"Clan Leader, we could provide him with protection," suggested Inahibi. "Rich men are bound to have many enemies. We could just offer him security services."
"Not a bad idea, Inahibi, but tell me: if a stranger shows up offering to be your bodyguard, would you trust him? Not to mention, we don't even have legal identities here."
"Illegal identities?"
"Exactly. We're not in the ninja world anymore—identity documents here are far more complicated. Your clan leader can't forge them. What are we supposed to do, use the Sharingan to hypnotize—"
Akira froze. Wait—that could work. Invisible, intangible, but overwhelmingly effective.
"Alright, I've got an idea. Next step: we make some money."
When they saw the glittering, gold-plated palace of decadence before them, the others were taken aback. It was more lavish than even Kanagawa, the Fire Country's most prosperous city.
"Clan Leader, what is this place?"
"This is a casino. We're going to get ourselves some cash."
"But Clan Leader, casinos are full of barriers…"
"Inahibi, this isn't the ninja world. Casinos here only have surveillance cameras—no chakra barriers. Making money here will be easy. Oh, and here are some sunglasses I just 'borrowed.' Put them on."
This was Akira's first time entering a casino, even counting both his lives. The biggest casinos in America were in Las Vegas, but New York—the Big Apple—had its fair share of luxurious gambling halls too.
After observing for a while, Akira started with small games. Using the Sharingan's hypnosis, he obtained chips to play with—planning to return them once he won.
It didn't take long before he was raking in chips by the armful. As the stakes grew larger, so did his winnings, constantly exchanging for higher-value chips.
Akira had no regard for the casino's reputation. He came here today with the sole purpose of fleecing it. As long as he walked away with money, he didn't care about their losses.
Shinobi were never "obedient rabbits." They might spare civilians, but who cared about robbing a casino?
Within half a day, Akira had already won more than eighty million dollars, drawing everyone's attention. Some onlookers even sighed, thinking he was so flashy that he'd likely never make it out alive once he left.
"Inahibi, that's enough. Let's cash out. Stay alert—once we leave, the casino will likely try for revenge."
"Clan Leader, surely they wouldn't dare?"
"Why not? Back in the ninja world, no one would touch you once they knew you were a shinobi. But here? Even if you tell them you're a ninja, do you think anyone will believe you?"
Akira boldly requested to exchange his chips. The casino, instead of causing trouble, politely presented him with an anonymous card loaded with his winnings. No excuses, no stalling.
That actually surprised Akira. In the movies, casinos were always pulling double-crosses. At least this one's facade of professionalism was impressive.
No excuses, no manufactured "accidents." Was it that they truly didn't care about eighty million dollars, or were they planning something once he stepped outside? Akira couldn't tell.
One thing was certain: with the money already in his hands, there was no chance of giving it back.
The casino's boss didn't know it yet—but the choice between life and death was now in his hands.