A good, thorough thrashing was exactly what this disobedient brat needed.
Sasori offered a nonchalant smirk. He reached behind his back, produced a massive scroll, and unrolled it across the floor to reveal a grand fan-shaped array. Then, biting his thumb, he slammed his palm onto the seal.
"This is no game!"
Poof! Amidst a violent eruption of thick white smoke, a puppet was unleashed.
Controlled by translucent chakra threads, the figure was instantly recognizable to Hiruko. It was the specialized Human Puppet crafted from the corpse of the Third Kazekage—Sasori's most perfect masterpiece to date. It perfectly preserved the Kazekage's Kekkei Genkai, enhanced by a multitude of ingenious mechanical traps and a fully intact chakra reserve.
"Be grateful," Sasori said, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he flicked his fingers. "I shall turn you into a collection piece of the same caliber as the Third Kazekage."
Clack. The Third Kazekage puppet's jaw unhinged, revealing a pitch-black barrel launcher. Simultaneously, two toxin-coated blades hissed out from its arms. The entire puppet then began to spin at high velocity, launching a lethal charge toward Hiruko.
"It is truly an honor to join my gallery," Sasori's grin grew increasingly predatory.
Hiruko hopped backward with practiced ease, dodging the puppet's cleave with a look of effortless composure. He then raised his hand, pinching his thumb and forefinger together to indicate a tiny gap. "I hate to break it to you, but I think my power level is just a tiny bit higher than the Third Kazekage's."
"Hmph. I hope your bite is as sharp as your tongue."
Sasori yanked his fingers. The venomous left arm of the puppet switched modes, the seals on the mechanical limb flashing with light. In an instant, a thousand mechanical arms erupted from the sleeve, lunging toward Hiruko. In terms of sheer momentum, it looked like a bargain-bin version of the Veritable 1,000-Armed Kan'on.
Hiruko stood his ground, casually weaving a single sign. A massive fireball roared from his mouth. This gargantuan sphere of flame didn't just meet the mechanical arms; it incinerated and blasted them into a chaotic mess.
One had to admit, at Hiruko's current level, his Fire Style far surpassed that of the average Uchiha.
Watching the puppet, Hiruko's mind began to wander. He thought to himself: If I could kidnap this guy and put him to work building me a Gundam... that would be something.
It wasn't that he was being careless with the legendary puppeteer; it was simply that the power gap between them was currently astronomical. Sasori was barely touching the threshold of Kage-level, whereas Hiruko was in a different league entirely.
Operating in a constant state of Sage Mode, Hiruko felt like he was playing with a toddler. Although his soul still had minor "compatibility" issues to iron out, his physical prowess was so overwhelming that even the Third and Fourth Raikages combined wouldn't be his match. To Hiruko, the Third Kazekage puppet was little more than a wind-up doll.
He was merely curious to see how far Sasori could push his Kurama-style phantom before he decided to end the fight. If he truly wanted to kill him, the battle would have been over in a heartbeat.
Sasori's puppet mastery was elite, but against Hiruko's near-invincible physique and god-like sensory abilities, he had no foothold.
Hiruko's current peak of technological achievement was his ultra-long-range Gauss electromagnetic sniper rifle. A single pull of the trigger could easily end a life. That rifle fired projectiles at speeds exceeding Mach 10—a literal godsend for any marksman. However, without a body as reinforced as Hiruko's, the recoil alone would shatter the shooter's bones.
Combined with his modified eyes, Hiruko could "kite" any opponent to death as long as they weren't a Six Paths-level powerhouse. He could confidently say that—excluding a freak of nature like Orochimaru or the god-tier Otsutsuki—anyone could be sniped. One shot, one kill.
Of course, that applied to assassinations. In an open battlefield against a prepared Kage, who always had a hidden trump card, things might differ.
But here and now, Sasori's face darkened as his "Thousand Hands" were stopped by a simple Great Fireball. Sasori was inherently arrogant, yet Hiruko had neutralized his move with a casual gesture. In an instant, Hiruko's threat level in Sasori's mind spiked to the heavens.
First Genjutsu, then Fire Style, then physical reinforcement... Does this guy master every field like the Third Hokage?
If Hiruko also knew the Fourth Hokage's Flying Thunder God, then Sasori was in grave danger. He briefly considered using the Kazekage's Iron Sand to create a defensive perimeter, but his brow furrowed as he looked at his opponent.
Hiruko's deep connection with Tsunade suggested he was no slouch in medical ninjutsu, either. Sasori's poisons might be useless. If the mechanical traps couldn't do it, his only hope was the Iron Sand.
He abandoned the idea of summoning a hundred puppets to swarm the man. As Sasori prepared to manipulate the seals to release the Iron Sand, Hiruko suddenly smiled.
"Little brat, are you interested in working for me?"
Sasori froze, thinking he had misheard. Is this guy really a Leaf executive? Trying to recruit a Suna rogue ninja? How farcical. Especially since the Land of Wind and Leaf were currently allies.
This kid really is the 'strong, silent type,' Hiruko thought.
Sasori didn't waste words. He manipulated the Magnetic Release. "Iron Sand Drizzle!"
Under Sasori's deft control, the Third Kazekage's power flared. Waves of iron sand manifested from thin air, forming thousands of needles that shot toward Hiruko. The attack was relentless, difficult to dodge, and carried incredible lethality.
But against Hiruko's "Realization of the Five Senses" genjutsu, it was meaningless. He blurred through the gaps with impossible agility.
"The benefits are negotiable, no need to be so hasty," Hiruko teased. "Wood Style: Wood Locking Wall!"
The genjutsu-phantom clapped its hands. Massive wooden shields engraved with demonic eyes erupted from the ground, encasing Hiruko in a perfect defensive dome. This was the same jutsu Hashirama used to tank Madara's Susano'o slashes—strikes that combined the Nine-Tails' power with the ultimate defense.
Listening to the thud-thud-thud of iron striking wood, Hiruko remained perfectly calm. To him, the Iron Sand Drizzle was about as threatening as a light rain shower. When the sound subsided, he moved the shields aside and appeared before Sasori again.
"So? Consider it?" Hiruko asked. "I'm just a seeker of eternity. I have no interest in pointless slaughter."
Looking at Sasori's increasingly grim face, Hiruko said sincerely, "I don't need your loyalty, nor do I need you to kill anyone. I only need your intellect."
"Intellect?" Sasori's brow knit. He couldn't grasp what this man wanted. In the shinobi world, isn't a ninja's value measured by how efficiently they kill? This was the first time someone had tried to "recruit" him for his brain rather than his blades.
"A human's greatest value goes far beyond that," Hiruko explained. He sought eternal life, and Sasori had his own unique understanding of eternal beauty.
"In a sense, we are the same." Hiruko paced forward, his words seemingly striking a chord in Sasori's heart.
Frankly, the people in the Sand Village were far too short-sighted. They could never understand the value of someone like Sasori, a man destined for greatness.
"You seem to know a lot about me," Sasori said, his face a mask of indifference. He twitched his fingers, chakra threads snapping the Kazekage puppet between them to block Hiruko's advance.
After several exchanges, Sasori had determined he couldn't win. He sensed a lingering "unreality" about the man before him, and the thought of retreat began to take root. Even though Hiruko had played entirely on the defensive, Sasori knew a man like this had to have a devastating trump card. Furthermore, Hiruko's flippant tone was beginning to grate on his nerves.
"Humans are complex," Hiruko said, his eyes burning with intensity. "If I only analyzed you through data reports, I wouldn't truly know you. But I understand your wisdom—the kind of wisdom that is rare in this world. That is enough."
Hiruko reached out and placed a hand on Sasori's shoulder.
Sasori tried to lash out, but his power felt like it was sinking into a vast, bottomless ocean. His jutsu and puppets passed straight through Hiruko's body as if he were a mere hologram. Simultaneously, Hiruko's massive spiritual energy invaded Sasori's mind like a tidal wave.
The pressure was so immense it nearly crushed Sasori's consciousness. His eyes rolled back, and his body twitched uncontrollably. In that heartbeat, Hiruko forcibly pried open Sasori's mental world.
Hiruko flooded Sasori's brain with information—a "data bomb" of information warfare. Absurd tales mixed with hidden truths filled Sasori's mind, making his head feel like it was splitting open.
Hiruko left a specialized mark deep in Sasori's consciousness. Then, he branded a Curse Mark on Sasori's shoulder that resonated with the mental imprint. This seal would constantly draw in natural energy to maintain control. Hiruko wasn't about to take chances with this "little brat."
When the process was finished, Hiruko let go, and Sasori collapsed to the ground.
He recovered quickly. The data Hiruko had forced into his mind contained a vision of a scientific team—a collaborative effort to explore the mysteries of heaven and earth and, eventually, step into the realm of immortality together. Sasori was a partner Hiruko had "hand-picked."
Of course, Hiruko still required control.
Sasori glanced at the mark on his shoulder but said nothing. In the shinobi world, falling captive after being outclassed was a common hazard. He had always known this day might come. So what if he was a prisoner? At least he still had the chance to study his aesthetics; he didn't care about much else.
The stories Hiruko had shown him were filled with beings who pursued eternity:
Kars from JoJo, seeking the Ultimate Lifeform.
The near-perfect immortals who fought the Demon Slayer Corps.
The undying Ajin.
Alucard, the vampire king from Hellsing.
The Homunculi from Fullmetal Alchemist.
The cybernetic immortals of Ghost in the Shell.
The horrifying Tomie, capable of infinite regeneration from a single cell.
Majin Buu from Dragon Ball.
Brook from One Piece...
A torrent of legends regarding longevity crashed against Sasori's perception. Under Hiruko's guidance, Sasori—the seeker of eternal beauty—found a new mantra echoing in his mind:
"The flesh is weak; the machine is eternal."
Just as Stand users are drawn to one another, those who seek eternity find a mutual gravitational pull. Sasori had delivered himself to the door, and Hiruko intended to make him contribute. If Hiruko wanted to drive a giant Mecha one day, he needed Sasori to build it.
Hiruko wasn't delusional about his "personal charm." He wasn't a narcissist; he just knew he needed leverage. He ensured his control methods didn't damage Sasori's free will—a brilliant mind like that shouldn't be wasted.
Sasori was a pragmatist. When faced with an insurmountable force, he made the logical choice. Much like when he would eventually "submit" to the Akatsuki after being beaten by Konan, he was a man who respected results. Hiruko believed his "benefits package" was superior to the Akatsuki's. He had research topics that provided Sasori with room to grow. In terms of "Artistry," Hiruko felt he was easily on par with Nagato's group.
However, Hiruko had slightly miscalculated.
Three days later. In a large, newly built Leaf base near the Dragon Vein tower.
Inside a cultivation pod, the handsome red-haired youth was suspended in a translucent blue fluid. His body was covered in a dense network of sealing chains. It looked like a textbook case of "imprisonment play." Pity Hiruko wasn't a priest; he had no interest in boys.
Hiruko expertly operated the diagnostic equipment, analyzing the incoming data stream.
"Sasori, it's been two days. Have you finished your deliberations?" Hiruko asked, looking at the boy through the glass.
His computer screen was filled with Sasori's biological data. In forty-eight hours, Hiruko had mapped Sasori's body, brain, and soul, uncovering countless secrets. Some of the data was so complex that Sasori himself would have needed to study it. A genius was a genius; they always opened doors others couldn't even see.
Hiruko's offer sounded enticing, but Sasori hadn't even opened his eyes, offering only a flat refusal. He was fish on a block, yes, but working for Konoha? Not a chance. Just because he would join the Akatsuki in another life didn't mean he would join the Leaf without a grudge.
Sasori remembered the love of his parents. The cause of their death—the reason he spent his childhood waiting for nothing—was war, cruel missions, and the White Fang of the Leaf. Because of them, his parents were gone. He loathed the Land of Wind, but he hated the Leaf with a burning passion.
He had his aesthetics, but he wasn't emotionless; he was just a stubborn kid who lacked love.
Hiruko didn't press him. He returned to his keyboard, categorizing the puppet knowledge he'd extracted. Sasori's craftsmanship was truly a "black tech." Hiruko couldn't help but think that even if the Sage of Six Paths were cremated, he'd find a way to drag the corpse back into the workforce.
The principle was simple: preserve the corpse's chakra to manifest their jutsu. In the Naruto world, chakra was everything. Whether through Reanimation or puppetry, if the chakra remained, the puppet could theoretically use the deceased's full arsenal.
However...
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