"How did you avoid Hiruko's poisoned needle attack just now? By all logic, you should already be dead from the poison."
Sasori of the Red Sand asked the question with a serious expression, as if he were genuinely engaging in academic discussion—almost as though the life-and-death battle moments ago had never happened.
From Sasori's perspective, even though Hiruko had been flung into the air, its attacks never stopped. That kind of wide-area saturation fire should have resulted in unavoidable damage. Hagoromo shouldn't have been able to dodge everything.
Yet the reality was right in front of him—Hagoromo was completely unharmed.
In truth, Hagoromo hadn't dodged at all.
He had simply avoided the attack in a different way.
But was he about to explain that?
"You guess."
Hagoromo wasn't delusional about so-called "absolute defense." In the Naruto world, even something as broken as Shinra Tensei could be forcibly torn apart—nothing was truly invincible.
That said, against small-scale projectile weapons like poisoned needles, his defense was effortless. Even sudden, point-blank activation could completely neutralize such attacks.
If you had a cheat—this was exactly when you used it.
Of course, this defensive method could only be used by Hagoromo's real body. His shadow clones couldn't replicate it.
Given the nature of the Shadow Clone Technique, the mechanics of high-rank abilities, and whatever higher-order rules governed the world, Hagoromo's clones simply could not use superhuman powers.
Only the original—the Lightning user—could.
That was easy enough to understand.
Because if his clones could wield a Level 5 ability, then why would he ever bother learning ninjutsu?
Learn what—air?
He'd pour all his effort into refining the Shadow Clone Technique endlessly. The moment a fight started, he'd spam clones just like Naruto.
And his combat style would become something like this:
First—
Shadow Clone Technique.
Ten thousand clones.
Then—the clones' combined ultimate move:
Ninja Art: National Power Grid Technique!
A world-ending, inhumanly brutal move that casually crushed everything.
At that point, what was there left to play?
He'd just stare at people until they got pregnant.
Imagine it—twenty thousand "Hagoromo sisters" (for some reason, let's call them that) rampaging across the shinobi world…
"The revolution has arrived," declared Hagoromo No.10032 expressionlessly and with absolute conviction.
"Hagoromo, when are you going to become Tianjin's number one?" Hagoromo No.10086 asked knowingly, pretending it was a question.
Do you even need to ask?
Today.
In that scenario, just ask whether Uzumaki Nagato would be afraid.
Ask whether Uchiha Madara would be afraid.
Whoever wasn't—get their head blown off on the spot.
…
Unfortunately, such a beautiful fantasy had never existed to begin with. The possibility of Hagoromo solo-flattening the entire shinobi world had been fundamentally erased.
Hiruko being destroyed so quickly had surprised Sasori—but it didn't shock him. It only meant that the Konoha ninja before him was far stronger than anticipated.
And while Hiruko looked utterly wrecked—reduced to non-biodegradable scrap—it was still, technically, repairable.
"You identified me accurately even before we fought. As for how… I assume you won't tell me," Sasori said calmly.
"Konoha ninja, state your name. You may become part of my collection someday. Out of respect for the original owner, I can let you name your new puppet."
After stepping out of Hiruko, Sasori's demeanor subtly changed. The arrogance faded. He didn't seem nearly as aggressive when speaking.
Was he… shy, by nature?
Sasori was cautious. He had absolute confidence in his strength, but a puppeteer was not a close-combat specialist. Once an enemy closed the distance, even he could be forced into a disadvantage.
After witnessing Hagoromo's explosive speed earlier, he was especially wary of that point.
As a result, the distance between them remained considerable.
From a puppeteer's perspective, partial—or even complete—puppetization suddenly made a lot of sense. Becoming something neither fully human nor fully puppet wasn't madness—it was a pursuit of combat efficiency.
Of course, Sasori's willingness to turn himself into a puppet also stemmed from deeper psychological reasons.
As for giving his name—Hagoromo had no reason to hesitate.
"Konoha jōnin, Uzumaki Kushina—"
Sasori's hand froze mid-motion.
"—'s disciple, Shiraishi Hagoromo."
Sasori's fingers twitched.
It was just a name. Why the dramatic pause?
Sasori pulled out a scroll marked with the words "Red Secret Technique", hesitated, then stuffed it back inside.
People who called themselves artists tended to harbor obsessive, perfectionist tendencies. Until certain works were complete, they refused to use them.
Take Sasori's Red Secret Technique: Performance of a Hundred Puppets—essentially a puppet army. To use it perfectly, he needed to have fully converted himself into a puppet.
And at present, he didn't even have a full hundred puppets ready.
So in the end, Sasori pulled out a different scroll.
On it was written a single character:
"Three."
"As a puppeteer, I have one masterpiece I'm most proud of," Sasori said.
"You should feel honored. You're the first to ever see it."
Hagoromo's eyesight was excellent. The moment he saw that number, he knew exactly what was coming.
And he felt no honor whatsoever.
The seal on the scroll released, and a blue-haired, yellow-eyed puppet emerged—
The strongest nameless extra in all of Naruto lore.
The Third Kazekage.
History had proven that anyone hyped up as incredibly powerful tended to exist solely to make someone even more powerful look better.
Thus, the Third Kazekage became Sasori's prized collection.
"This puppet is almost complete," Sasori said.
"The only flaw is that, as my strongest creation, it still lacks the strongest poison. That part isn't finished yet."
The puppet began to creak and clatter.
Hagoromo raised his guard instantly.
"You're really telling me this kind of information?"
There was no such thing as "safe" enemy intel. Sasori could say whatever he wanted—Hagoromo wasn't about to trust a word of it.
One thing was certain: under no circumstances could he afford to get hit by that puppet.
Sasori hadn't brought out the Third Kazekage because Hagoromo was especially important.
The reason was simple.
Anyone who got a new toy wanted to test it.
Invisible chakra threads twitched as Sasori manipulated the Third Kazekage puppet, sending it charging toward Hagoromo.
And Hagoromo?
He turned around and ran.
Hagoromo in front.
Sasori behind.
The Third Kazekage puppet between them.
A chase began.
Hagoromo didn't flee at full speed. It was almost as if he were deliberately cooperating with Sasori's pursuit, maintaining a fixed distance as they crossed from the Land of Rain back into the Land of Fire.
That should be enough.
Hagoromo thought silently.
He leapt high into the forest canopy, then twisted midair, turning to face his pursuer.
His palm flipped outward. Ring finger and pinky curled inward. Thumb pressed down. Index and middle fingers extended together, forming a sixty-degree angle pressed against his temple.
Honestly—anywhere else, this pose screamed Solar Flare.
But it wasn't that.
There was no sound.
Then—
A brilliant bolt of lightning burst from his forehead.
The target wasn't the puppet in between.
It was Sasori of the Red Sand behind it.
This was Hagoromo's fastest attack.
Calling it electricity was inaccurate—
It was closer to a laser.
Electric speed was light speed.
At least in theory, this was the fastest thing allowed by the rules of the world.
Lightning Spear.
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