Tsunade: Isn’t this just like picking up money?

Faced with Tsunade’s misunderstanding.

“Lady Tsunade, it’s not what you think,” the Snow Woman explained, her cheeks flushed. She stole a glance at Kisame and, seeing that he showed no sign of anger or displeasure, she let out a silent sigh of relief.

She rose, cradling her wooden basket, and hurriedly bid farewell to Tsunade and Shizune. “I’ll be going now. If the two of you ever have some free time, you’re welcome to visit my home.”

“Really? How about today?” Tsunade responded enthusiastically on the spot, her curiosity about the relationship between the Snow Woman and Kisame thoroughly piqued.

The Snow Woman froze, her body stiffening instantly at those words. She’d only meant to be polite—who could have guessed Tsunade would actually accept? Now, nervous, she looked toward Kisame, who was, after all, the head of the household.

“Wait here for a bit. There won’t be any more filming this afternoon. We’ll head back together later,” Kisame said to her.

He knew the Snow Woman usually took care of her child alone and led a lonely life. If she could make some friends, especially someone as strong as Tsunade, it would be a good thing.

“Why can’t there be any more filming?” Tsunade asked, puzzled. After all, Kisame wasn’t the director.

But as soon as she finished speaking, she realized what Kisame meant.

Fuji and Director Yamamoto both had stomach troubles. Once they’d entered the restroom, they couldn’t come back out, and when they finally did, their legs were so weak they could barely stand. They had to be supported just to move.

With both the director and the leading man in such a state, it was out of the question to continue filming.

“You… You really are up to no good,” Tsunade muttered, piecing together Kisame’s actions.

“I was simply returning Fuji’s ‘favor’ in kind. Reciprocity, that’s all.” Kisame responded calmly, completely untroubled by the morality of his actions.

As for Director Yamamoto, he was the one who’d dragged Kisame into the mess of the film crew in the first place—he was, in a sense, Fuji’s accomplice.

Sighing, Tsunade walked over to the ailing director and leading man. As the renowned medical sage of the shinobi world, she couldn’t simply stand by.

She prescribed medicine for the two and instructed them to rest in bed for a couple of days, assuring them they’d be fine.

With no other option, Director Yamamoto announced a temporary suspension for the entire crew—three days off.

Half an hour later.

The four of them returned to the seaside villa.

No sooner had Kisame entered the courtyard than he couldn’t wait to strip off his shirt and start working out with the equipment nearby.

The Snow Woman led Tsunade and Shizune into the house.

“Such a gilded cage for a beauty,” Tsunade remarked with a click of her tongue as she stepped into the luxurious villa, making the Snow Woman even more embarrassed.

When Tsunade caught sight of Bai in the cradle, she leaned in and studied the baby for a long while before saying to the Snow Woman, “You’re so lucky. The boy takes after you—fair and beautiful—not at all like that shark brute.”

She jerked her chin toward the window, where Kisame was outside, veins bulging, sweat pouring down his body as he let out low, animalistic growls from his throat.

Terrifying.

“Lady Tsunade, it really isn’t what you think…” The Snow Woman, her face crimson, had no choice but to tell the truth.

She recounted her story to Tsunade.

Of course, she left out certain details, but she emphasized again and again that it was Kisame who had saved her and her child, giving them a peaceful and prosperous life.

“That guy… He’s got more heart than I thought,” Tsunade remarked in surprise, glancing at Kisame in the courtyard.

“Kisame is an extraordinary ninja. In order to defeat his enemies, he sometimes resorts to… unconventional means. But in daily life, he’s actually a warm, attentive man who really knows how to look after people.” The Snow Woman spoke softly and earnestly, her pale blue eyes shining like sapphires.

She did her utmost to speak well of Kisame, hoping to change Tsunade’s poor impression of him.

“Hmph, as if I’d believe that,” Tsunade huffed, as proud and stubborn as ever.

Still, after hearing the Snow Woman’s words, a subtle shift occurred deep within Tsunade’s heart regarding her view of Kisame.

Just then—

A loud thud sounded from the courtyard.

Kisame, having finished his workout, had tossed his specially made two-ton barbell to the ground, then walked to the faucet and began rinsing his hair.

Tsunade narrowed her eyes as she watched his powerful muscles.

She remembered vividly the last time he’d headbutted her, sending her flying and leaving her embedded in a wall—a humiliating memory that still stung.

Her fighting spirit was reignited.

With nothing better to do, she clenched her fists, stood, and strode outside, waiting as Kisame finished washing his hair.

“Did you need something?” Kisame asked offhandedly as he toweled his hair dry.

“How about a rematch?” Tsunade puffed out her chest and crossed her arms, issuing her challenge.

“A rematch in what?” Kisame replied nonchalantly.

“Arm wrestling,” Tsunade said, rolling up her sleeves and showing off her smooth, snow-white arms, a sly smile on her lips.

“I refuse,” Kisame answered coolly after a glance.

“What, are you scared?” Tsunade raised her voice, pressing him, hoping to provoke a response.

“It’s not fear. But a contest ought to have stakes, don’t you think? Otherwise, what’s the fun?” Kisame waggled his finger at her.

“Oh? And what do you want to wager?” Tsunade’s interest was thoroughly piqued, her eyes shining as she heard the word “bet.”

“You’re famous for your high-stakes gambling, but I don’t have much money. I’ll wager all five million from this mission’s payment,” Kisame replied after a moment’s thought.

Five million.

At that, Tsunade’s eyes practically glowed—it was as if she’d found money lying in the street.

“Fine, I accept! Don’t you dare back out!” she declared boldly, as if the five million was already in her pocket.

“Hold on—what about your stake? I’ve heard you’re neck-deep in debt, that you even handed over your actor’s fees in advance to pay it off.” Kisame raised a hand, halting her. “Don’t tell me you plan to win something for nothing?”

Caught off guard, Tsunade’s eyes darted evasively, guilt written all over her face.

“Well, I’ve been a bit short on funds lately. How about you let it slide, just this once…” Her tone turned coy, and she draped her arms around Kisame’s shoulders, trying to charm him for the sake of that five million—her only hope of getting out of her financial jam.

But Kisame wasn’t one to fall for such tricks.

He glanced down at her, his gaze flickering briefly over her chest, and finally revealed his true intention.

“If you’re out of cash, then wager that crystal necklace around your neck. It doesn’t look cheap,” he said, feigning indifference.

He knew that blue crystal necklace was made from a special mineral, sealed with a portion of the First Hokage’s chakra, and powerful enough to suppress the Nine-Tails.

In fact, from the very first time he’d seen Tsunade, Kisame had set his sights on that necklace. Given its properties, it certainly counted as a ninja tool, did it not?

And today, he’d finally found the perfect opportunity.