Born a villain, true to his nature.

The beach at dusk. Brilliant clouds painted half the sky crimson, and the sea shimmered gold beneath the setting sun. Gentle winds danced with the waves, sending foamy crests onto the soft sand.

It was breathtaking.

Lord Fuji glanced at Director Yamamoto, who instantly understood and raised his voice, “The sunset and clouds are perfect right now. Let’s start filming the kissing scene immediately—the shot will be beautiful.”

“So soon?” Tsunade was startled, caught off guard.

“Lady Tsunade, it’s not too soon at all. The story calls for you and Lord Fuji to fall in love at first sight on the beach,” Yamamoto explained with a smile.

“…Fine,” Tsunade replied reluctantly.

Of course, a kissing scene wouldn’t be real—it would only be staged to look like one. Despite that, for Tsunade, acting for the first time and having such close contact with a stranger made her deeply uncomfortable. But having already accepted an astronomical payment to cover her gambling debts, she had no choice but to endure.

Once I win back all the money I lost at the tables, I’ll never do something that humiliates myself again, Tsunade silently vowed.

Meanwhile, Kisame, now changed into costume, stepped out of the crew’s makeshift dressing room. His short hair was neat, his features rugged. He wore a black suit with a crisp white shirt and a pale blue tie, a golden shark brooch pinned to his chest.

Suits never flatter the too thin or too heavy; only tall, well-proportioned men with a strong build truly carry them off. Kisame fit that mold perfectly.

He waited at the side, silently rehearsing his lines, slipping quickly into character—fully inhabiting the villain’s perspective.

These two—why are they dragging it out so much?

Seeing Tsunade and Lord Fuji hesitating and coy, Kisame grew impatient. He turned to a nearby staff member and asked, “Is it my turn yet?”

The staffer glanced at Director Yamamoto, who nodded, signaling Kisame to enter the scene.

This was the moment: just as the lead couple was about to kiss, the villain would appear and ruin it. Such twists and turns were designed to keep the audience hooked, making the story more dramatic.

“Lady Tsunade, move a little closer. Look more affectionate—imagine Lord Fuji as your first love,” Yamamoto coached from the sidelines.

Lord Fuji was elated. Gazing at the stunning Tsunade before him, he eagerly reached out, aiming to wrap his arms around her slender waist—seizing his chance.

Just then, Kisame stepped onto the sand, and with his polished black shoe, he tapped the nearby beach soccer ball, aiming squarely at Lord Fuji’s backside.

With a powerful kick, the ball cut through the air, tracing a perfect arc.

Bang.

Lord Fuji’s pupils contracted; pain shot through his rear, and he lost his balance, stumbling forward.

Tsunade jumped aside in alarm.

Lord Fuji crashed onto the sand in a most undignified pose, utterly humiliated.

“Who?!” he barked, scrambling to his feet, furious at whoever had dared.

He turned.

Kisame was whistling, hands in pockets, striding forward with a group of men in suits and sunglasses.

“Sorry, we were playing beach volleyball, and the ball accidentally went your way. Are you alright?” Kisame approached, looking down at Lord Fuji with a smile.

“You damn—” Lord Fuji snarled, losing all composure and charging at Kisame.

Hmm?

Kisame’s gaze chilled; in a flash, he seized Lord Fuji by the collar and lifted him like a dog, roughly hoisting him up.

In the next moment—

Swish, swish.

Two elite jonin bodyguards appeared instantly. One grabbed Kisame’s wrist and said coldly, “Let go!”

The other drew a gleaming ninja blade, pressing its tip against Kisame’s throat.

“You’re courting death,” Kisame narrowed his eyes, uttering a classic villain’s line, murderous intent rising.

For Kisame, participating in this film was simply an extension of himself. He was perfectly ready to turn this act into reality—to become a true villain and eliminate Lord Fuji, that hateful employer, along with his henchmen.

In other words, he was dead serious.

“Cut!” Director Yamamoto shouted, rushing forward just in time. “It’s a misunderstanding, just a scene. Everyone, calm down.”

Tsunade quickly appeared, moving the ninja blade away from Kisame’s neck. She frowned, addressing both sides, “If you have something to say, say it properly.”

At her words, Kisame’s killing intent faded. He released Lord Fuji and turned to protest to Director Yamamoto, “After I entered, he didn’t follow the script, and his lines were wrong.”

“Uh….” Director Yamamoto gave an awkward smile, glancing cautiously at Lord Fuji.

“I’m tired. Let’s stop here for today,” Lord Fuji said coldly, giving Kisame a long look before turning to leave, his two bodyguards following silently.

“Sigh.” Director Yamamoto watched him go, then turned to Kisame and spoke earnestly, “Mr. Kisame, I’m not saying you acted poorly. On the contrary, your villain was so convincing—if you could just hold back a little, it would be perfect. You…understand my meaning?”

“I understand, Director.” Kisame nodded solemnly, furrowing his brow in thought before replying, “You’re telling me that truly excellent acting should be subtle and restrained—thunder in silence. Is that it?”

He genuinely wanted to hone his craft further.

Kisame believed that deceiving enemies with words, expressions, and body language was an essential part of unrestricted taijutsu.

“That’s right, you’ve understood well,” Yamamoto nodded, increasingly convinced Kisame was a born actor. Such talent was wasted as a mere ninja, he thought, shaking his head regretfully as he walked away.

“Hey.” Tsunade approached, giving Kisame a casual pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for helping me out back there,” she said, as though it were nothing.

She wasn’t stupid.

She saw clearly that Kisame had deliberately kicked the ball at Lord Fuji, preventing him from taking advantage of her.

Oh?

Kisame hadn’t expected Tsunade to think that. He was simply immersed in his role and annoyed at the lead actor.

Since Tsunade misinterpreted his actions, Kisame decided not to let the opportunity slip by.

He took full advantage, immediately asking her for a reward, “I helped you—shouldn’t you give me something in return?”