Uchiha Kei scratched his head, utterly confused.
Just now, the system suddenly prompted him that he had received a special emotional value. He checked and found it had come from a faraway place—likely somewhere beyond the Land of Fire—and had yielded over ten thousand emotional points, all from a single person.
Good grief, over ten thousand? What kind of monster-level expert could generate that?
For reference, even Namikaze Minato, when maxing out the emotional response to a single game, could only yield a little over a thousand points—and he was a near-Kage-level shinobi.
Over ten thousand wasn't something your average Kage-level could offer. It had to be someone beyond that tier.
After thinking it through, Uchiha Kei locked onto one suspect:
Uchiha Madara!
In the current shinobi world, the only one who could feasibly generate that kind of emotional value was Uchiha Madara.
Sure, *Boruto* hinted at even more terrifying beings, but those were far off in the future. Whether those settings even existed in this timeline was debatable.
Besides, if it really were someone like Ōtsutsuki Isshiki, the emotional value generated might far exceed ten thousand.
So all signs pointed to Madara, currently hiding somewhere underground, plotting.
"What the hell, isn't Old Man Madara lying low to stir up trouble? Why the hell is he playing a genjutsu game now? Is he trying to become some kind of 'legendary boomer gamer'?"
"And this 'Golden Spirit'..."
He glanced at the system prompt. Alongside the ten thousand points was something even rarer—three 'Golden Spirit' points.
[Golden Spirit: A golden energy forged from the synergy of players and all who love games. It is only produced when the most elite players fully immerse themselves in a game and release their emotions with intensity. It can be used to enhance emotional point draws, ensuring the next ten-pull contains at least one high-quality item.]
Then the system listed the criteria for producing Golden Spirit as a top-tier player.
The first condition was simple—play the game well. Poor gameplay meant no Golden Spirit.
After that, two types of elite players could produce it.
The first: those with exceptionally high life force. Only beings with high-level life essence qualified to produce Golden Spirit. According to the system, only someone of genuine Kage-level strength or higher could do it.
As an aside, the system also noted that Earth, lacking supernatural energy, would never produce this type of player.
"Yeah, sure, keep pretending," Kei deadpanned. "We're still pretending I'm on Earth, huh? You moron system."
Then came the second category—those common on Earth. These elite players could resonate emotionally with audiences through livestreams and broadcast gameplay.
When enough viewers maxed out their emotional response and supported the player through livestreams, their emotions would sync, producing Golden Spirit.
With Earth's mature streaming and esports industries, this synergy could generate Golden Spirit endlessly.
Put simply, if Kei were on Earth and created a competitive esports game, he could host tournaments and reap Golden Spirit from audience reactions and player performances.
Unfortunately... he was in the shinobi world.
This world's population couldn't compare to Earth's. It had no such industries. So if Kei wanted Golden Spirit, he'd have to count on Kage-level powerhouses going full tilt with emotion.
"So this is the real way to use emotional value draws. You need to collect enough Golden Spirit to make every ten-pull yield a solid item."
Muttering to himself, Kei realized that the emotional point lottery wasn't as rigged as he had thought. It wasn't about three-hundred-pulls-for-a-guaranteed-junk. He'd simply never used the Golden Spirit correctly.
Apparently, this dumb system had anchored its mechanics around Earth. So what should've been a common bonus became some ultra-rare treasure.
Deciding quickly, Kei used one Golden Spirit to lock in his next ten-pull.
Immediately, the lottery interface changed. It turned golden, ornate—like something guaranteed to yield quality rewards.
When he pressed 'draw,' the screen exploded with dazzling effects. No more boring white flashes—everything was at least green, some blue, and even one golden.
There were no purple items (the second-highest tier), but the top-tier golden item had appeared!
And the sudden burst of color—after so long staring at dull white—moved Kei nearly to tears. It was like seeing color for the first time.
He immediately checked the golden item.
When he saw it clearly, Kei's excitement froze, and his expression twisted.
[Technique of Large Intestine Taste Buds (Gold Quality): Consumes energy. By shouting the technique's name within audible range, the locked-on target's large intestine temporarily grows taste buds. Energy cost and duration vary based on target's life force. Designed for non-lethal, precision attacks on rival businesses during hostile takeovers or market warfare. PS: This is the most honest form of real-world business warfare.]
...Good god.
What the hell was this technique of Large Intestine Taste Buds?
How malicious could a skill get? This was pure hatred—the kind you used on a mortal enemy.
Originally, even a hostile business rivalry wouldn't merit something so personal. But with this jutsu? Once the effect wore off, the enemy might actually try to kill you.
The sheer concept of someone growing taste buds in their colon was so grotesquely abstract that Kei shivered involuntarily.
His eyes showed genuine fear—this game dev system was absolutely demented.
The worst part? The system was still trying to be lawful. Despite how heinous this technique was, it emphasized that it was non-lethal.
And if anyone claimed this had nothing to do with game development? The system would reply that this was for business warfare.
Indeed, it stated this was the "most straightforward depiction of real business warfare."
To be fair... it wasn't wrong. If you looked at some real-world corporate warfare on Earth, a lot of it was shockingly direct. None of that convoluted drama from TV.
When people broke the rules, the consequences were deadly simple—like entire families vanishing in mysterious shipwrecks or getting flattened by 'accidental' truck crashes during dimension travel.
It was brutal. Honest. Just like the system said.
Apparently, this deranged system had studied Earth's corporate tactics very well.
But still...
This was the shinobi world!
Kei could already imagine the horror that would unfold if he used this technique on a ninja enemy.
He'd probably become the most feared person in all of Konoha—maybe even in the entire shinobi world.