Temari of the Sand, who had followed Ino in, dropped a soundproof seal on the table. “Agreed. I’ve been doing Desert Storm Diaries for six months. We’re pulling thirty thousand listeners an episode. Last week I interviewed a jonin who claims he can talk to squirrels. The audience ate it up.”
“They’re not squirrels,” Tenten muttered, squeezing into the crowded booth. She was holding a custom-made microphone shaped like the Bashōsen fan. “They’re shinobi chipmunks . There’s a difference. And my unboxing channel is dying because no one wants to see a legendary weapon review without explosions.” Temari of the Sand, who had followed Ino
“I invested it in pachinko futures,” Tsunade corrected, sitting down. “Which is why I’m now producing a reality show. Shizune, the papers.” We’re pulling thirty thousand listeners an episode
Tenten nodded vigorously.
“I want you to debate ,” Ino corrected. “Conflict is engagement. Engagement is revenue. Revenue buys more explosive tags for Tenten.” She was holding a custom-made microphone shaped like
“What?” Hinata blinked. “They’re very photogenic radishes.”
Before anyone could object, the tea house door burst open. Ino Yamanaka strode in like she owned the place—because she partially did. Her entertainment agency, Yamanaka Media Minds , had recently signed half of the active kunoichi roster.