The Strongest Swordmaster in the World of Naruto (AU)

Chapter 346: Be Quiet and Get Back to Work!

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“That’s right! Exactly!” another voice chimed in, the young man’s tone bursting with enthusiasm like a child afraid of missing the story.

“Yes! We also want to hear about Aoki, Boss!” added another, the old man’s eyes gleaming with curiosity as though he was about to hear some juicy gossip.

Kuzan let out a deep sigh, then folded his arms firmly across his chest. His voice rose slightly, just enough to cut through the noisy chatter of his workers.

“Enough! You still have work to do! We’ve got piles of it waiting! And besides—can’t you see? There’s a lady here! Behave yourselves!” Kuzan deliberately shifted his gaze toward Kurisu, who was standing gracefully by Aoki’s side.

“Ah?” Several of the workers froze, some suddenly looking awkward as they realized how rowdy they had been acting.

“Right, who is this woman? She’s stunning!” one of them exclaimed in awe, his eyes glued to Kurisu’s presence.

“Hello, my name is Kurisu. I’m Aoki’s wife. It’s a pleasure to meet you all, please take care of me from now on,” Kurisu said politely, lowering her head in a respectful bow.

Her smile was gentle, her eyes radiating warmth, and for a brief moment the noisy air turned still. Kurisu’s movements were simple, but the elegance that lingered in her aura silenced the rough group of men as if they were under a spell.

“What!” one worker shouted, his eyes bulging as though he had just heard the most impossible news.

“Aoki’s wife!” another echoed in disbelief.

“Good heavens, Aoki’s wife is gorgeous!” one of the men blurted out instinctively, only to receive a sharp glare from the fellow next to him, who feared the comment might be too forward.

“What are you all doing! You’re scaring the lady! Get back to work, now!” Kuzan barked, his voice hard and commanding. His brows knitted tightly, and the workers who had been so lively moments ago shrank back at once. Some even pretended to busy themselves by wiping sweat off their brows—though the air wasn’t hot at all.

“All right, all right! Aoki, make sure to visit often!” one called out, waving his hand in an attempt to cover his embarrassment.

“We’ll be waiting for the story of your wedding, Aoki!” another shouted, laughter spilling out even though nervousness lingered behind it.

“Take good care of that woman, Aoki! If you don’t, we’ll make sure to rough you up!” one of them said while tightening his fist, the tone playful but the sincerity unmistakable.

“Miss! If Aoki ever makes you cry, just tell us! We’ll make sure he learns his lesson!” another added, the old man’s eyes sparkling with determination like a knight ready to defend their queen.

“Ah, of course! I’ll make sure to call you all the moment my foolish husband makes me sad,” Kurisu replied. Her thin smile this time carried a mischievous edge, causing several of the workers to burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! Good, good!” the place filled with hearty laughter, an odd but heartwarming camaraderie.

“If there’s ever a problem, just tell us!” another voice chimed in, still carried away by the enthusiasm.

“Be quiet and get back to work!” Kuzan finally cut in. His tone cracked like a whip, instantly silencing the uproar.

Then Kuzan turned around, his clothes swaying lightly as he walked with firm, steady steps toward the small restaurant situated right next to the blacksmith shop.

Aoki and Kurisu followed behind. Aoki cast a quick glance at the workers, who were still grinning sheepishly, before letting out a resigned sigh.

Kurisu, on the other hand, walked calmly, her steps light, though a faint smile lingered on her lips that she could not quite conceal.

The workers returned inside the shop. The rhythmic sound of hammers striking metal, the burst of sparks from the forge, and the buzzing of an old fan once again filled the workshop.

Yet whispers about Aoki and his wife continued to float among them, spoken in hushed tones laced with curiosity.

As soon as Aoki and Kurisu stepped into the restaurant owned by Michiyo—a woman close to Kuzan’s age, somewhere in her mid-thirties to early forties—the warm aroma of freshly cooked food immediately greeted them.

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