Chapter 18: Acquiring Property
The gamblers all looked on with envy as Uchiha Akira and his companions left the casino fully loaded. But the moment they remembered who owned the casino, a chill ran down their spines.
"Strange… we're already out of the casino, and still no one has tried to stop us?" Uchiha Akira muttered to himself. After all, his suspicion that the casino would pull something shady was only based on common tropes—movies always played out that way! Why weren't things following the script?
No ambush, no thugs blocking the road, not even a chance for a "face-slapping showdown." Uchiha Akira didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
What he didn't notice, however, was the bloated, black-skinned man inside the casino at that moment.
"Boss, are we really just going to let them walk out with the money?" one of his men asked.
"No. Let them go. I can take an eighty-million-dollar loss. Tell the boys not to mess with them. As for the idiot who acted without permission—don't blame me when I deal with him without mercy."
The massive Kingpin slouched on the sofa, sinking into it—not because he was so fat, but because his body was simply massive compared to an ordinary man.
By chance, Kingpin had happened to visit one of his casinos today and unexpectedly ran into Uchiha Akira's group. Even as he watched them tear through the tables, he remained utterly unmoved.
Kingpin wasn't some pushover. In fact, his name alone was enough to stop children from crying at night. But this time, his instincts told him that it would be unwise to provoke those four young men. The strangest part was that the youngest of them was clearly the leader.
Through the surveillance feeds, Kingpin saw it clearly: the other three treated the boy with genuine respect, not the kind born of money or fear, but from the heart. If he were just some spoiled rich kid, that would be one thing—but who dared to strut arrogantly in front of Kingpin? Did they all think they were Tony Stark?
"I just hope this eighty million doesn't end up wasted," Kingpin muttered, lighting a cigar and savoring the rare quiet.
Meanwhile, Uchiha Akira and his companions were oblivious to Kingpin's concession, unaware that one of the most dangerous figures in the underworld had chosen to give them face. Of course, if things ever did go sour, Kingpin would be the one to suffer.
And so, the matter ended with Kingpin backing down.
"Clan leader, where are we headed now?" the three asked, still itching from the thrill of watching their leader sweep the casino. Who would have thought that in this world, money was so easy to make? This was far more convenient than taking missions.
"First, we need to find a snakehead to handle identity papers. Then, we buy property and settle our people," Akira replied. It was his first time handling such things—after all, they were undocumented and couldn't just walk into a government office to apply legally.
In America, there wasn't exactly a strict national ID system—most of the time, a driver's license worked just fine. But of course, to take the test and get a license, you still needed a legal identity.
After much effort, they finally found a relatively reliable black-market fixer to get them their papers.
"These IDs aren't fake, but they won't hold up under deep scrutiny. If you get pulled over racing cars, or if the FBI looks into you, there's still a risk of exposure. Don't say I didn't warn you," the fixer explained candidly.
At least he was honest—especially compared to the previous seven intermediaries they'd encountered that day. All of them were shady, and all of them had their legs broken by Akira's group. The greediest one even had three legs broken.
Trying to double-cross ninja? Uchiha didn't tolerate that.
"I understand. As long as they work for normal purposes, that's fine," Akira said. His Sharingan flickered briefly, confirming that the fixer wasn't lying, and then he handed over the payment.
By the time they left, it was already afternoon.
"Let's hurry—we need to find a place to settle down by today if possible."
Akira marched straight into a New York real estate office, his expression screaming I'm loaded. Naturally, a sharp-eyed agent quickly came over.
"What kind of property are you looking for, sir?" While most people dismissed the four young men as unreliable—even if they claimed to have money—John felt this might be his chance. Maybe he'd gamble on them.
People were strange and complicated. Since the four entered the office, three carried an air of indifference, while the youngest looked around curiously. For some reason, John felt his monthly bonus was walking right through the door with them.
"I want a manor in New York. It can be remote, but the land must be large. Privacy is essential. Ideally, it comes with farmland. I'll finalize today if it's under sixty million. You understand me?" Akira cut straight to the point, not in the mood for small talk.
"I understand perfectly. With funds like yours, you should have no problem. But properties like that aren't common. Please, have some tea while I check the listings."
"No problem," Akira replied, sitting down boldly while the other three stood behind him.
"Looks like a big spender," John thought, secretly congratulating himself on his intuition.
"Yes, sir. There is one manor that matches your needs. The decor is somewhat old, styled in a Victorian fashion, but the estate itself is spacious, comes with farmland, and offers excellent privacy. The nearest school is five kilometers away."
"We'll take a look. Show us the property now," Akira ordered curtly.
John's joy deepened.
"Of course! We can go right away!"
"This estate comes with farmland, even a small lake. The lake connects to an underground water source, so it stays fresh. There's also a ready-made horse stable. Does this meet your requirements, sir?"
The price was reasonable for what it offered. The only issue was the seller's demand for full payment upfront—an obstacle that had scared away many buyers.
Sixty million dollars in cash wasn't something even most billionaires could casually provide. Who just kept that kind of money lying around, when investments and business ventures were always calling?
But Akira and his companions were more than satisfied. The land was big enough to house the Uchiha clan, and cat summons could be settled later. There was land, water, and seclusion. Compared to their old territory in Konoha, it wasn't as vast, but for now, it was the best possible solution.
"This is the one. I'll pay immediately. Contact the owner and process the transfer," Akira said firmly. The money had come so easily, he didn't feel the slightest pain in spending it. As clan head, generosity was expected of him.
John's wrinkled face bloomed with joy.
"Wonderful! I'll call the owner right away. He lives nearby—at the Weizel Academy for Gifted Youth, just five kilometers away. Please wait a moment."
"…What school did you say?" Akira asked, almost doubting his ears.
"The Weizel Academy for Gifted Youth. Don't worry, sir—it's far enough away that it won't disturb your privacy," John added quickly, afraid Akira might change his mind.
"It's fine. Go ahead and contact him—we'll wait here," Akira replied absentmindedly, muttering to himself:
"Just a coincidence of names… or…?"