"You found him?"
Orochimaru looked at the intelligence report Jiraiya handed over. His expression remained a mask of calm, but a flicker of genuine surprise crossed his eyes.
Jiraiya sat heavily on the tatami mat and poured himself a cup of local shochu. "Right in the heart of the Land of Waterfalls. But let's be honest—you already knew that, didn't you?"
Orochimaru didn't deny it, offering only a faint, thin smile. "Jiraiya, it seems your information-gathering skills are becoming quite formidable."
"Cut the crap. Are you insulting ?" Jiraiya scoffed. A trap this obvious was sothing he'd have to be a fool to walk into blindly. "But speaking of which... your health looks terrible. You sll faintly of blood. Are you injured?"
"Hardly."
"You're getting weirder by the day." Jiraiya shook his head, unable to see through his teammate's layers.
just as he was about to suggest they go after the target together, a ssenger hawk spiraled down. Jiraiya unrolled the ssage, his brow furrowing instantly.
"The old man sent reinforcents. Three jonin squads, led by the Anbu Captain, Sakumo Hatake, and the Head of the Rogue Ninja Tracking Departnt, Shima Shirokumo."
Orochimaru arched an eyebrow. "A luxurious lineup."
"Luxurious? It ans he doesn't trust ." Jiraiya stuffed the orders into his vest. "Since they're here, I'm out. I'll leave the intel to you. I'm going back to teach my kids."
Without waiting for a reply, Jiraiya vaulted out of the attic window and across the rooftops, disappearing into the distance.
Part of his haste was to avoid paying the bill—a small revenge against Orochimaru—but more importantly, he felt that with so many elites arriving, the rogue Abura stood no chance.
His presence would be redundant. As he leaped through the trees, his mind drifted back to the Rain orphans. Have they been eating? Are they safe?
Watching Jiraiya leave, Orochimaru's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Truly the most unpredictable ninja among Sensei's students.
To think he'd walk away from such a masterpiece of a show. But perhaps it's for the best; if Jiraiya stayed, Shisui might actually have found him a bit too much to handle."
Orochimaru coughed, spitting out a trace of blood. "This body's rejection... a tedious process. Ti to go. A shadow clone will suffice to watch the performance. This current vessel can't take a direct hit from White Fang."
The Border of the Land of Waterfalls
Sakumo Hatake led his team forward. Behind him were fifteen elites across three squads, plus himself and Shima Shirokumo—seventeen of Konoha's finest.
It was a force capable of toppling a small nation, yet since crossing the border, Sakumo had felt an unshakable sense of dread.
"Lord Sakumo, what's wrong?" Shima asked, sensing the tension.
Sakumo shook his head. "I can't put my finger on it. It's... too quiet."
Shima looked around. The forest was dense, but there was no sound of birds or insects. It was unnaturally still.
"Stay alert—"
Before the word left his lips, the ground beneath them exploded. Countless white tendrils shot out like spears. Two jonin, unable to react in ti, were skewered instantly.
"Ambush!"
Sakumo drew his short blade in a flash, severing the tendrils reaching for him. But his pupils shrank—the severed white threads didn't go limp. They continued to writhe and lunge at his face.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
A jonin nearby incinerated the loose threads, but the counter-attack was already escalating.
"Wind Style: Pressure Damage!"
"Fire Style: Intelligent Hard Work"
From the left and right, two massive jutsu rged. The wind fanned the flas into a localized firestorm that swept through the Konoha ranks.
Sakumo retreated, slashing a vacuum path through the flas with a burst of chakra, but the screams behind him told a grim story.
Two jonin were engulfed in flas, rolling on the ground. Three others were severely burned. Several more were charred husks before they could even draw a kunai. In a single breath, the elite force was halved: six dead, four injured.
As the smoke cleared, two figures erged from the forest.
One was a young man surrounded by six off-white tendrils, each tipped with a spear-like point. The other was a masked man in black with a crossed-out Takigakure forehead protector.
Sakumo gripped his blade, his eyes darting between them. "Naoto, the pride of the Waterfall. And Kakuzu... the rogue with a ninety-million ryo bounty."
He gritted his teeth. "Why is a loyalist of the Waterfall working with one of its most hated criminals to slaughter Konoha shinobi?"
"You invaded our territory," Naoto said coldly. "I am simply protecting my ho."
Kakuzu let out a rasping laugh. "Working together? Who said I was with him?" He pointed a gnarled finger at Naoto.
"I don't know the brat. I just heard White Fang was coming and wanted to see how much your head would fetch at the exchange."
Sakumo didn't believe a word of it. Their coordinated attack had been too seamless for strangers. But his priority was survival.
"We are here on official orders to apprehend the rogue Shisui Abura. Do not interfere with Konoha business, or you will be treated as enemies."
Before he could finish, a vibration humd through the soles of his boots. "Jump!"
Sakumo leaped, mid-air, he sliced through several black threads erupting from the dirt. His team wasn't so lucky. Those already injured or slow to react were skewered from below, their hearts ripped out in a shower of gore.
Kakuzu chuckled darkly. "Enemy? We've already killed half your n. Aren't we enemies already? Konoha sure is 'forgiving'."
Naoto stepped forward, his white threads swaying. "Your authority ends at the border. You cross over and hunt whoever you wish.
Is this the arrogance of the 'Strong Nations'? That our small ho exists only for you to trample through whenever you please?"
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