Land of Iron, Comrcial Street.
"Madara!"
Senju Hashirama looked pleadingly at him, his eyes instinctively drifting toward a nearby casino.
They had finally co across one again—of course he wanted to go in and play a few rounds.
He had a hunch that today would be his lucky day.
Maybe he could even win back everything he’d lost before.
Renya followed Hashirama’s gaze, and his expression instantly turned strange.
Wasn’t this the sa casino they had visited a few years ago?
Even the sign at the entrance with the words "Bet Big, Win Big" was still hanging there.
Only now, a crack had ford across it—clearly smashed by soone with bad intentions.
Uchiha Madara took one look at Hashirama’s eager face and imdiately knew this guy was about to walk in and play the part of a walking moneybag again.
His own eyes drifted to the casino entrance.
When he saw the place clearly, his brows furrowed deeply.
Uchiha Madara turned to Renya with clear displeasure.
"Why is this casino still here?"
Hadn’t he told Renya to "take care" of it back then?
And yet, here it was—still operating like nothing ever happened.
Did that an soone else knew that he and Hashirama were still alive?
He had always assud Renya had already silenced the casino owner, but clearly, that wasn’t the case.
When it ca to "handling things," the two of them had very different philosophies...
In Madara’s eyes, only the dead could keep secrets.
But Renya didn’t think it was necessary to kill the casino owner over sothing like that.
As long as the man didn’t spread the word, it was fine.
"Madara-sama, the casino owner won’t talk," Renya assured him.
At the ti, he had sent a group of n to give the owner a "deeply morable" lesson—ensuring he’d never dare spread rumors about Madara and Hashirama still being alive.
There was no need to silence him completely.
Honestly, Renya thought even if their identities were exposed, it wouldn’t matter.
That was why he had spared the man’s life.
If it had been a truly serious matter, not a single person in that casino would have been left breathing!
"Madara, I think Renya did the right thing," Senju Hashirama said approvingly.
He didn’t want anyone to die because of him.
At his core, Hashirama was a kind man—so kind it wasn’t an exaggeration to call him a saint.
He’d rather risk exposure than see innocent people killed because of him.
Of course, the ideal outco was that no one died and their secret stayed safe.
Seeing Hashirama’s attitude, Uchiha Madara said no more.
He was about to awaken the Rinnegan—at this point, he didn’t even care whether their fake deaths were exposed.
So what if people knew they were still alive?
There wasn’t a single person left in the shinobi world who could stop him and Renya now.
A pair of Rinnegan, a pair of Mangekyō Sharingan...
What could those ants of the shinobi world possibly do against them?
Swarm him with numbers?
Against absolute power, numbers ant nothing.
No matter how many ants there were, they were still just ants.
Since even Hashirama didn’t care, Madara saw no reason to either.
"Madara, I want to go play a bit..." Hashirama said pleadingly.
Sa ti, sa place, sa three people, sa words.
And as expected, Madara gave the sa answer.
Of course, it was Renya who provided the gambling money again.
Ever since Madara and Hashirama learned that Renya was ridiculously wealthy—a literal moneybags—they hadn’t felt the slightest guilt about spending his money.
The kid was so rich, he couldn’t spend it all if he tried.
As their "junior," wasn’t it natural for him to show a little filial respect?
This ti, Hashirama’s gambling fund wasn’t 100,000 ryō—it was 1,000,000 ryō.
Ten tis more!
"Hahaha! Renya, trust ! This ti, I’ll definitely win back everything I lost before!" Hashirama declared, gripping the million-ryō sum and laughing up at the sky.
He could already picture himself sweeping through the casino, winning big.
Renya just smiled faintly.
Giving Hashirama this money was like throwing a at bun to a dog—gone forever.
He didn’t expect the man to actually win it back.
He just hoped Hashirama could at least last a little longer this ti...
And not lose it all within half an hour.
Madara’s eyelid twitched. Thank goodness Hashirama hadn’t developed a gambling addiction back in the Warring States period.
Otherwise, he’d have lost his temper and bet away the entire Senju Clan.
"You’ll see! Watch how I win it all back!" Hashirama said proudly as he strode into the casino.
Renya and Madara exchanged helpless looks and followed after him.
Uncle Hashirama was about to "bless" the casino again.
...
Inside the casino.
With a million ryō in hand, Hashirama imdiately drew every gambler’s attention.
Their eyes burned with greed—they already saw him as a fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered.
Usually, soone showing off that much money was one of two things—
Either a gambling god or a gullible fool.
And in ninety-nine out of a hundred cases... they were fools.
Real experts preferred to play dumb, not boast.
To the gamblers around him, Hashirama was clearly the second type
And sure enough, that was exactly what he was: a pri, top-grade fat sheep.
Everyone in the casino was now watching him.
They all wanted to know—was he a god of gambling, or just a fool?
It didn’t take long for them to find out.
He was a fool.
A supre, first-class, gold-plated fool.
Tonight, they were going to strip him of every last coin—and maybe even his underwear.
Renya and Madara could only sigh helplessly.
They had already predicted the outco, but seeing it happen in real ti was still frustrating.
A bad gambler with a huge addiction—he was basically handing out money for free.
Luckily, for Renya, this amount was like plucking a hair from a cow’s back.
As long as Uncle Hashirama was happy, that was enough.
If he lost, so what?
News of a "fat sheep" carrying a million ryō into the casino quickly reached the owner upstairs.
He wanted to see for himself what this fool looked like.
When the casino owner squeezed through the crowd and saw Hashirama at the gambling table—with Renya and Madara watching nearby—his jaw dropped open in shock.
"Y-you... you..."
He pointed tremblingly at Hashirama, stamring, unable to form words.
The God of Shinobi, the Asura of the Shinobi World, and the Asura’s illegitimate son!
He wasn’t seeing things after all—they really were alive!
His face turned red with excitent. Back then, when he spread the news, people had accused him of making it up.
So of Hashirama’s so-called fans even ca and wrecked his casino for "blasphemy."
Even now, the mory still filled him with grievance.
He hadn’t lied—so why had they trashed his place?
Now, seeing the three of them again, the casino owner felt that sa grievance surge up... along with a very different feeling—terror.
Renya and Madara both noticed the overly excited owner.
"Kid, handle it," Madara said quietly.
"Got it, Madara-sama."
Renya approached the casino owner and gave him a aningful look, signaling him to co along.
Only then did the owner snap out of his daze—and a wave of pure fear rushed through him.
He had been so focused on proving his innocence that he’d forgotten who these n actually were.
He was in deep trouble.
As he looked at Renya, a cold dread crept into his heart.
They wouldn’t silence him... would they?
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