Naruto: I, who fooled the ninja world, was hailed as a savior.

Chapter 369 The Soul is Put on a Price Tag

The night falls and the lanterns come on.

The FUNFUN district in the Land of Fire welcomes its most "bustling" moment of the day.

Unlike Tanabata Street, which is filled with the sounds of dice clashing and frenzied shouts.

The air on FUNFUN Street is filled with a cloyingly sweet scent of face powder and the pungent smell of cheap alcohol, as if a different kind of desire is intertwined here.

In the Land of Fire, prostitution is legal; this is known as the "public prostitution system," which is disguised under a veneer of civilized practices that include standardized management, tax revenue protection, and maintaining public order.

The brothels operating on Funun Street must hold a special business license issued by Daimyofu, and the women working there must also register and be included in the roster.

On both sides of the street, two- or three-story wooden buildings stand side by side, brightly lit. Behind each window or paper door, one can vaguely see figures wearing light gauze clothes and in various poses.

On the street, many men were already drunk, staggering and scanning both sides with aggressive eyes.

A series of cloyingly sweet calls came from all directions, and the prostitutes actively greeted every passing man.

The cacophony of voices, deliberately coquettish laughter, and the languid sounds of the shamisen... all these sounds mingled together, making one dizzy.

"My lord~ come and have a drink~" A heavily made-up, scantily clad prostitute wrapped her arm around the man's arm like a water snake, supporting the drunken, unsteady man.

"Hahaha! Besides alcohol, what else do you have?"

The drunkard grinned and slapped her buttocks with his large hand without any restraint, making a crisp "smack" that made him burst into laughter.

The courtesan stiffened abruptly, her smile froze slightly, then she forced a sweet smile back and said coquettishly, "Oh dear, be gentle~"

She stroked the drunkard's clothes with her bright red nail polished fingers, smiling charmingly, and said, "There's good wine inside, and even more to relieve your boredom~ guaranteed to make you forget all your troubles~"

As she spoke, she used her ample breasts to subtly rub against him, trying to drag the drunkard into the dimly lit shop.

But the drunkard, his desires aroused, couldn't wait any longer. He pressed the prostitute against the doorpost, his breath reeking of alcohol as he brought his mouth close to her neck and cheeks, his hands roughly kneading her waist and buttocks.

"Sir..." The courtesan twisted her body to avoid him, but dared not push him away forcefully. She could only plead in a weak voice, "Not here...please..."

"Sir, please come again next time!"

At the entrance of another brightly lit shop, a woman had just seen off a difficult customer. The smile on her face vanished the moment he left, and a look of weariness appeared in her eyes.

His gaze swept blankly over the scuffle in the distance, a cold, almost self-mocking smile curving his lips. Passersby either ignored it or made ambiguous jeers, but no one stopped him.

She certainly didn't intend to stop it.

There are not many truths in this world. A woman's blush is worth more than a long dialogue.

But here, with so much rouge and powder, who can tell whether the blush on her cheeks is shyness or a clever way to attract customers?
Who knows whether that push and shove, which seems to be both welcoming and rejecting, is genuine disgust or just a pretentious gesture?

The woman simply rubbed her lips, which were covered in the smell of alcohol, with the back of her hand, as if trying to wipe away the nauseating sensation and stench of alcohol.

The rouge on her lips was smudged, revealing the originally pale and bloodless lips beneath, and exposing a corner of the empty shell beneath the makeup and gorgeous clothes.

She felt a slight loathing for herself, and this loathing turned into a degree of self-destruction.

Like many prostitutes, she was forced into this profession because she inexplicably incurred huge debts, but she was at least much better off than those girls who were sold into this place from a young age.

No, I should say they are the same.

What bound her was the "debt" that accrued interest and could never be repaid. What imprisoned those girls was the astronomical "ransom" sum.

Essentially, there is no difference.

The vast majority of their income was deducted by the owners of the prostitutes under the guise of "paying off debts," "food and lodging expenses," and "management fees," leaving them with very little.

They are trapped in a cycle of never being able to pay off their debts or save enough money to "buy themselves off." The more they struggle, the deeper they sink, and they never see the day when they can gain their freedom.

Personal freedom is firmly bound to this brightly lit cage by seemingly legal and compliant contracts.

Here, smiles are commodities, bodies are tools, and souls are pawned with prices clearly marked.

Legalization has not brought dignity; it has merely draped a seemingly civilized halo over bloody transactions.

However, for those whose husbands have died, who have no family to rely on, who have been abandoned by their parents, or who have been driven to desperation by fate.

This is not a choice, but the only way to survive.

However, in recent years, some strange and ironic situations have emerged.

Ever since those terrifying monsters called 'Void', which feed on human negative emotions and souls, began to appear in and around the capital.

Those customers who were previously the most violent, had a particular sadistic fetish, and liked to vent their emotions at will, have actually decreased significantly.

It is said that extreme negative emotions are more likely to give rise to 'emptiness' and also more likely to attract 'emptiness'.

This unexpected change, by a twist of fate, gave these courtesans a rare moment of respite.

"If only I could..." A distant and vague thought flashed through the woman's mind.

"Hey! What are you standing there for?" A rude shout came from behind, abruptly interrupting her thoughts.

She trembled slightly, almost instinctively putting on that charming smile again, turning around, and replying in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Coming, coming~ Sorry to keep you waiting~"

She reached out and naturally and intimately took the arm of the stranger in front of her, burying all her weariness and fantasies deep beneath the heavy makeup once again.

The night was darker.

The colorful lights illuminated the entire street, but also cast deeper and more numerous shadows.

at this time……

"what!!"

A piercing, distorted scream suddenly shattered the clamor filled with false laughter, bringing an instant of deathly silence.

The scream came from the direction of a prostitute's house in the middle of the street.

Immediately afterwards, a chilling aura that penetrated to the bone suddenly appeared out of thin air, centered on the brothel, and spread and converged wildly in all directions!
Countless unseen negative spiritual energies, filled with pain, resentment, and despair, were drawn by this chilling atmosphere, emanating from every corner of the entire block…

It was forcibly extracted from the forced smiles of the prostitutes, from the hearts of the hedonistic guests, and from the filth accumulated on this land.

Transforming into a black current invisible to ordinary people, it howled and twisted as it surged toward the source of the scream!

(End of this chapter)