Four Sand squads sprinted across the desert toward the fight, desperate to save their comrade who was getting shredded by two enemy ninjas. From their angle the guy looked like hell—dozens of bleeding wounds, blood spraying with every hit. He was clearly on his last legs.
"Stop right there, you bastards!" the lead jonin shouted, hoping the attackers would hesitate.
Taiichi grinned through the pain. Finally. His borrowed body was a wreck. Every cut burned like fire, and he'd lost way too much blood. If the cavalry hadn't shown up soon he would've passed out.
The moment the Sand squads got within a hundred meters, Taiichi dropped his final line.
"Avenge me—they're Cloud scum!"
His soul ripped free of the dying body. The real owner's consciousness slammed back in just in time to feel a kunai punch through his throat. He clawed at the attacker's hand, gurgling, eyes wide with confusion. I just went out for one night of fun… did I really fuck myself to death?
The two Cloud jonin didn't stick around. One flung a lightning net to slow the incoming Sand forces, then both bolted without looking back.
"Gis, take your squad and check the body! Everyone else, with me!"
The leader split the teams. Three squads chased the Cloud ninjas while the fourth stayed behind to examine the corpse.
"Captain… that's Shinji," one of the Sand ninja said after wiping blood off the dead man's face.
"Shinji? That pervert?" The captain couldn't believe it. The village slut had held off two elite enemies long enough to deliver critical intel before dying? "You sure?"
"Positive. Right eyebrow has that black mole. It's him."
The Sand ninja stared at the body with new respect. Shinji had taken thirty or forty wounds and still managed to shout the enemy's identity before he died. That kind of loyalty erased every sleazy rumor they'd ever heard about him.
"I was wrong about him," the captain said quietly. "All his personal bullshit? Just small stuff compared to this."
One of the younger Sand ninja wiped his eyes. "I'm even gonna forgive the money he owed me. His wife doesn't need that headache."
While the Sand squad mourned their sudden hero, Taiichi's soul slammed back into his real body. The pain hit him like a truck. He shot upright, gasping, every nerve screaming from the wounds he'd taken in the borrowed shell.
It took him a full three minutes to stop shaking. Yeah… Spirit Transformation needs to stay in the emergency toolkit only. The backlash sucked.
Once he could move again, he crept to the edge of the dune and expanded his sensing. The Sand team was still gathered around Shinji's body, talking in low, respectful voices. Taiichi almost laughed. The guy who used to be the village joke was now a martyr. Life really was ridiculous.
Half an hour later the three pursuit squads returned empty-handed, faces dark. Taiichi didn't need to hear the details—he already knew they'd lost the Cloud spies.
A messenger hawk shot out of Narisuna an hour later, carrying the report straight to Sunagakure. Taiichi watched it go and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. If this forced Sand to tighten security inside their own borders, it would take pressure off the Leaf front. Worth every cut.
He glanced back at the city one last time. With a spy scandal this fresh, Narisuna was about to go on full lockdown. No point hanging around.
Time blurred. It was now mid-October of the 46th year. Taiichi had been roaming the Land of Wind for over two weeks. He'd left footprints in every city and oasis outside the hidden village itself. At this point he probably knew the country's layout better than most Sand jonin.
His Flying Thunder God markers were planted in every major settlement. Every day he jumped between them, scanning with chakra sensing, then moving on. Half a day and he could sweep the entire country—except the endless empty desert stretches he couldn't cover.
The constant travel drained him. Even with his massive reserves he usually burned through most of his chakra by the end of each circuit. But it was worth it. He knew where every Sand supply route ran, every patrol schedule, every weak point.
Two days ago he'd noticed something off. Sand had suddenly doubled patrols on every route between the village and the front. Even border sweeps got extra bodies. Taiichi smelled a trap and started playing it safe—no more hitting big convoys.
Then, on a routine sweep, he found the mother lode.
A massive supply column was crawling across the dunes, heading for the Land of Rivers front. Nothing unusual at first—Sand sent one of these every ten days or so. But when Taiichi's Soul Vision swept over the formation, he froze.
In the center of the column, surrounded by four jonin holding sealing chains, walked a skinny teenage boy. The chains were covered in runes and locked around his neck like a collar. The boy's soul flame was enormous—bigger and brighter than anything Taiichi had ever seen. It dwarfed every other soul in the convoy like the sun next to fireflies.
One-Tail jinchuriki.
Taiichi's pulse kicked up. He watched from a dune as Rasa himself walked point, personally escorting the living weapon. Four elite guards kept the boy sealed and calm while the rest of the convoy formed a protective ring.
Taiichi was already planning his next move when the Sand sensor in Rasa's group reacted. The man's head snapped toward Taiichi's position.
"Lord Kazekage—someone's probing us."
Rasa's face tightened. He didn't even need to ask who it was. Only one person operated at that range and had the balls to scan a convoy this size.
"Tell the perimeter teams to widen their sweep. We're in the most vulnerable stretch for the next day. No mistakes."
The order rippled through the column in silent hand signs. Every Sand ninja suddenly moved with extra tension.
Rasa stared into the empty dunes where he knew Taiichi was watching.
Not this time, Matsushita Taiichi. Not with the One-Tail on the line.