81-85

Chapter 81: Pursuing the Sand Ninja  

With just a brief sensory sweep, Umino Yoru grasped the situation.  

Fujin and Raijin, with their bottomless stomachs and zero foresight, had devoured over a hundred pounds of fish in less than ten days. Their squad leader, Yamikumo, had been forced to sell their weapons for ration pills—and now, the brothers were starving again, fishing half-heartedly while muttering about when they’d see their "Boss Supreme" again.  

"Hmm…" Umino Yoru halted mid-step, stroking his chin.  

If I can lure that Sand jōnin away… Fujin and Raijin could crush the remaining Sand ninja in seconds.  

The more he thought about it, the more viable the plan seemed.  

Treated as two taijutsu-specialized tokubetsu jōnin, Fujin and Raijin could stall the Sand jōnin long enough for him to eliminate the rest with a large-scale Hidden Mist Technique and silent assassination. If things went south, he could always detonate hundreds of explosive tags to signal Konoha reinforcements.  

"Perfect."  

With a quick Transformation Jutsu, he dashed downstream.  

"Boss Supreme!" 

"Senpai!"  

Fujin, Raijin, and Anma Keion lit up like lost puppies reunited with their owner.  

After a quick exchange, Umino Yoru handed them honey-glazed energy bars to curb their hunger.  

"Mmm… So sweet. Thank you, senpai."  

Anma Keion’s crescent-moon eyes shimmered as she nibbled the bar, each bite filling her with warmth. Her gaze at Umino Yoru shifted from admiration to something… fluttery.  

"WOW! So good!" 

"Boss Supreme, you’re the best!"  

Even Fujin and Raijin, who usually inhaled food, licked the bars slowly, savoring every crumb.  

Seizing the moment, Umino Yoru planted the seed:  

"Want more of these?"  

"YES!" They nodded like woodpeckers.  

"Sigh… Too bad the Sand ninja stole them all."  

"WHAT?!"  

Their rage spiked instantly. "Where are they?! We’ll smash ‘em and take our food back!"  

"Senpai, you found Sand ninja?"  

Anma Keion saw through his ploy but volunteered anyway. "Let me help. Every fighter counts."  

Umino Yoru hesitated—but her genjutsu could be a game-changer in group combat. He agreed.  

"Kill Sand ninja! Get food!" 

"RAAH!"  

Fujin and Raijin raised their clubs, roaring.  

"Quiet!" Umino Yoru hissed. "If we’re loud, the village will take most of the food. Steal it quietly, and we keep it all."  

Miraculously, the mention of "more food for them" activated their stealth mode. Guess they’ve done this before.  

"Fujin, Raijin—drop the wooden clubs. Use these."  

From a scroll, he summoned two massive steel poles—over two meters long and thick as an arm. Originally for Spiral Hollow Wave training, they were perfect for the brothers.  

The moment they gripped the hundred-pound weapons, their movements became fluid, almost graceful.  

"Boss Supreme… We won’t trade these for food again!" 

"Yeah! We promise!"  

Ah. So their original weapons were steel poles—until they pawned them for meals.  

Now armed properly, their combat prowess skyrocketed. With the poles planted, they looked almost as intimidating as Choji in Expansion Jutsu.  

"Stand still."  

Umino Yoru weaved hand signs.  

"Water Release: Sticky Syrup Armor!"  

A golden, hardened syrup encased Fujin and Raijin.  

"Good."  

Their offense was monstrous, but their defense relied on brute durability—and their low IQ made them vulnerable. The armor fixed that.  

Anma Keion, however, didn’t get the same treatment. At her frail size, the syrup’s weight might crush her.  

"Move out!"  

They set off—but within 100 meters, Umino Yoru frowned.  

Fujin and Raijin kept pace easily, but Anma Keion’s speed was worse than a standard genin’s. At this rate, the Sand team would escape.  

"Keion, get on."  

Trusting Fujin and Raijin to carry her was risky—they might accidentally snap her in half.  

"Eh? O-Okay…"  

Her face burned crimson as she weakly slumped onto his back.  

Umino Yoru hooked his arms under her thighs and blitzed forward with Body Flicker.  

Pressed against him, Anma Keion felt a warm, secure sensation she’d never known. Her left cheek tingled where it touched his shoulder, and her scalp prickled as if ants were crawling under her skin.  

"Keion, stop squirming."  

He adjusted his grip, keeping her steady. At this speed, a single misstep could send them crashing into a tree—and while he’d survive, her fragile body wouldn’t.  

"Y-Yes, senpai…"  

Her whisper was so faint, only his sound-ninja training caught it.  

Chapter 82: Divide and Ambush  

To prevent Anma from squirming, Yoru shifted his grip, pulling her from his back to cradle her against his chest. This should keep her still.  

"Anma , you're so light. You really need to eat more."  

She felt less like a person and more like a large, plush doll—soft and almost weightless. No wonder the Anma clan is declining. Even the strongest genjutsu can't compensate for such frail physiques.  

Ninja strength relied on leveraging one's advantages, but having a weakness this crippling—worse than a genin's—was absurd.  

"Eep!" Anma let out a muffled squeak, her face burning as she buried herself deeper into his chest, too flustered to move.  

Yoru approved. Not only did this position stop her from disrupting his Shunshin coordination (and potentially slamming them into a tree), but her stillness also let him push his speed further.  

Soon, they overtook the Suna smuggling squad. Instead of engaging, Yoru led the Wind and Thunder Gods in a wide arc, bypassing the enemy to set up an ambush at a river crossing ahead—a perfect choke point flanked by dense forest.  

A simple but lethal trap was laid. Now, they waited.  

The Suna team advanced cautiously, meandering until they were barely three kilometers from the ambush site.  

Then—a glint of light.  

From a towering tree behind them, a Konoha ninja (one of Yoru's shadow clones) "accidentally" reflected sunlight off a makeshift telescope lens.  

The Suna jonin leading the escort froze, his gaze snapping toward the source. The clone feigned panic and fled.  

"Lord Sabaku, let me exterminate this rat." The jonin—Kazekiri—knelt before the squad's commander, a tokubetsu jonin with a blade planted in the dirt.  

"Fail, and don't bother returning. Your son Maki will learn what happens to weak links." The commander's threat was ice-cold.  

"Understood." Tightening his grip on his sword, Kazekiri vanished in pursuit.  

"Double time!" The commander barked. The squad surged forward, the puppet-user tokubetsu jonin scouting ahead while two chunin brought up the rear.  

Eight Suna-nin raced toward Yoru's trap.  

"Senpai... are you a jonin?" Anma stared in awe as Yoru summoned ten shadow clones. Her admiration swelled, eyes shimmering with something dangerously close to future baby-name planning.  

"Mn." Yoru shrugged. If not for the clone luring the enemy and others stationed elsewhere, he could've made more. His training had paid off—each clone now packed 0.2 "Kakashi units" of chakra, rivaling average chunin.  

The numbers:  

• Konoha's side: 1 elite tokubetsu jonin (Yoru), 2 berserker-tier taijutsu specialists (Wind/Thunder Gods), 10 chunin-level clones, plus Anma 's genjutsu support.  

• Suna's remnants: 1 tokubetsu jonin, 1 paper-commander, 6 chunin. 

"Two-to-one odds. Advantage: us." Yoru had never fought with such overwhelming force. A swift, brutal ambush was guaranteed.  

"Anma , stay hidden. This clone will guard you. Follow its orders for genjutsu timing."  

"Okay!" She ducked into cover, obedient as a field mouse.  

Yoru assigned two clones to the Wind and Thunder Gods—both as shields and tactical guides.  

The Suna squad entered the kill zone.  

Instead of triggering explosive tags immediately, Yoru sprang shuriken traps first. Then—  

*"Hiding in Mist Technique!"*  

Ten clones and the original exhaled thick fog. Within breaths, the riverbank vanished into opaque haze.  

"Ambush!"  

The Suna-nin barely dodged the projectile barrage before the mist swallowed them whole.  

*"Scatter this fog, Hayabusa!"* The puppet-user tokubetsu jonin snatched command.  

The nominal leader glowered but held his tongue—though his eyes promised vengeance.  

*"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"* A chunin named Hayabusa unleashed a gale, clearing a 30-meter path.  

Useless.  

The forest's density choked the wind's force. The mist would reclaim the area in seconds.  

"Combination jutsu!**" Four more chunin formed seals—two preparing Sand Shuriken, the others another Great Breakthrough.  

Their plan? A fusion technique to blast the mist apart.  

Chapter 83: Genjutsu Enhancement  

"Defensive positions!"  

The special jōnin puppeteer barked orders, directing his team to shield the four chūnin preparing their combined ninjutsu.  

Aside from the fraudulent special jōnin leader (who stood uselessly at the center), the Suna-nin swiftly formed a defensive perimeter. The two chūnin puppeteers positioned their puppets as additional barriers, reinforcing their protection.  

Right on cue, the attack came.  

A barrage of kunai and shuriken rained down.  

But these were elite Suna puppeteers—their defenses were formidable.  

With just two spinning windmill blades, they effortlessly deflected the storm of projectiles.  

"Heh. Pathetic." The fraudulent leader sneered, growing dismissive of both the attack and the unseen foe hidden in the mist.  

Meanwhile, the special jōnin puppeteer tightened their formation, adding another layer of defense to ensure the combined ninjutsu could be completed.  

The two Earth Release users were nearly finished, their hands sealing the Snake sign: 

"Earth Style—"  

Then—  

BZZT.  

A subsonic pulse struck, perfectly disrupting their technique.  

The two Wind Release users behind them also choked—their Great Breakthrough cut short mid-cast.  

While the latter pair recovered quickly, the Earth Release users were left chakra-disrupted, unable to perform ninjutsu for the time being.  

"Genjutsu! Break it!"  

The four chūnin paled, immediately assuming they’d been trapped in an illusion. Few things were as terrifying in team battles as genjutsu support—its ability to cripple coordination was legendary.  

Without hesitation, they flooded their chakra networks, trying to dispel the "illusion."  

No effect.  

One black-faced chūnin didn’t hesitate—he stabbed his own thigh with a kunai, relying on pain to shatter the genjutsu.  

The others followed suit, plunging blades into their legs without flinching.  

"Why isn’t it working?!" 

"Is this… an A-rank genjutsu? Or something else entirely?!"  

Before they could process further, the next assault was already upon them.  

SPLAT—  

"Water Style: Syrup Trap Field!"  

While his shadow clone disrupted their ninjutsu, Yoru had already spat out a thick, sticky syrup flood, drenching the Suna formation.  

The special jōnin puppeteer reacted instantly, commanding his puppet to slash through the oncoming wave with Whirlwind Blade Dance—a B-rank offensive technique.  

But syrup wasn’t water.  

The puppet’s blades sank uselessly into the glue-like substance, its limbs seizing up as the adhesive hardened.  

"Scatter! Avoid the syrup!"  

Too late.  

The team was already split apart, forced into isolated combat—just as Yoru had planned.  

"Now, Kayone."  

Fwoosh—  

"Genjutsu: Fox’s Mind Trick!"  

The moment the illusion descended, the Suna-nin lost all sense of direction.  

Despite being only a D-rank genjutsu, Anma Kayone’s bloodline elevated its potency to C-rank or higher.  

Normally, this technique trapped victims in endless loops, making them wander until collapse. But here, its purpose was simpler: keep them separated.  

With the mist obscuring vision, the effect was doubled.  

Only the special jōnin puppeteer resisted somewhat—the rest were completely disoriented, now fighting alone.  

"Fūjin! Raijin! Attack here!"  

Guided by Yoru’s shadow clones, the twin terrors lunged at the puppeteer.  

SHINK—  

"Senbon Rain!"  

The puppeteer’s backup puppet unleashed a storm of poisoned needles—  

TINK TINK TINK—  

—only for them to harmlessly bounce off the brothers’ syrup armor.  

Despite wearing hundred-pound adhesive plates, Fūjin and Raijin moved like raging bulls, closing the distance in seconds.  

"ROAR! DIE!" 

"GIVE BACK OUR FOOD!"  

Their gigantic iron clubs came down like meteor strikes, each swing equivalent to a B-rank ninjutsu.  

BOOM! BOOM!  

The ground shattered under the impacts, debris flying like shrapnel. Only by sacrificing his puppet as a shield did the puppeteer avoid being shredded by the flying rocks.  

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!  

Under the shadow clones’ guidance, the brothers pummeled him relentlessly, driving him into a desperate retreat.  

"Time to clean up the trash."  

While Fūjin and Raijin occupied the puppeteer, Yoru moved like a phantom, hunting the scattered chūnin.  

But first—another illusion.  

"Genjutsu: Phantom Followers!"  

Black silhouettes flickered through the mist, further disorienting the Suna-nin.  

Kunai and shuriken flew—but struck only empty air.  

One chūnin tried to cast Great Breakthrough again—  

BZZT.  

Another subsonic pulse cut him off mid-seal.  

Then—slice.  

His throat opened before he realized he’d been attacked.  

Nearby, Yoru materialized behind another puppeteer.  

The chūnin sensed death and whipped his puppet around—  

—only for it to freeze mid-motion.  

"What…?!"  

Schlik.  

As the puppeteer collapsed, gurgling blood, his dying eyes widened in horror.  

His discarded puppet was standing back up—  

—controlled by someone else’s strings.  

Chapter 84: The Demon Child’s Tactics  

A Puppet Master’s Gambit 

After seizing control of the puppet, Umino Yoru didn’t immediately continue hunting Sand shinobi.  

Instead, he lifted the corpse of the deceased Chunin puppeteer, studying his face carefully.  

"Transformation Jutsu!"  

With a pulse of chakra, Yoru’s features twisted—morphing into an exact replica of the dead man. Then, manipulating the stolen puppet, he advanced toward another Chunin puppeteer.  

The Perfect Trap 

Creeping up behind his target, Yoru orchestrated an ambush—his spider-like puppet lunging with razor-sharp limbs.  

Clang!  

The enemy puppeteer reacted with startling reflexes, blocking the strike with his own construct.  

As expected of a Sand nin. Their defensive tactics are no joke.  

"Huh? That’s Kōsama’s spider puppet?"  

The Chunin hesitated mid-counterattack, recognizing the weapon. "Kōsama, it’s me!" he shouted.  

On cue, the puppet froze—and behind it, the figure of "Kōsama" (Yoru in disguise) stepped forward.  

"Kōsama! Finally found you!"  

Relief flooded the Sand nin’s voice. The thick mist had obscured vision, but the puppet’s movements dispersed the fog just enough—revealing his "teammate’s" face.  

Who else but a Sand puppeteer could control this thing? His trust was absolute.  

Then—  

"Behind you!"  

Yoru’s disguised voice rang out in feigned panic, finger jabbing toward the man’s back.  

The Chunin whirled, puppets swiveling to guard his rear—  

—only for the spider construct’s barbed leg to spear upward in a vicious arc.  

"Secret Technique: True·One Thousand Years of Death!"  

SCHLICK.  

The meter-long spike rammed through the man’s unprotected backside, exiting through his mouth in a grotesque fountain of gore.  

"Tch. I did warn you to watch your six."  

Yoru’s illusion melted away, revealing his true form as the impaled corpse dangled limply from the puppet’s limb.  

The Chain of Deceit 

One by one, Yoru repeated the ruse:  

1. Clone a dead puppeteer’s appearance.  

1. Approach a new target as their "comrade."  

1. Distract, then annihilate. 

But when targeting the fraudulent Tokubetsu Jonin leader, things slipped slightly off-script.  

Not that it mattered.  

The "elite" crumpled under the combined assault of two puppets and multiple shadow clones, captured within seconds.  

"My transformation was flawless. How’d you spot me?" Yoru mused, crushing the man’s limbs as the spider’s stinger pressed against his tongue.  

"Y-Your eyes…" the man gargled. "No fear… no respect."  

Ah.  

The flaw wasn’t in the jutsu—but in Yoru’s demeanor. No matter how perfect the disguise, he couldn’t fake the ingrained subservience these dogs expected.  

Pathetic.  

Waste Not, Want Not 

Instead of killing him, Yoru:  

• Sealed the man’s tongue (no loose ends).  

• Ensnared him in Starch Syrup Bonds (laced with shuriken). 

A living puppet was more useful than a dead one.  

Then—a memory surged in.  

His distant shadow clone—the decoy luring the Sand squad—had been obliterated.  

One slash. That’s all it took for the Sand Jonin "Fūga" to erase it.  

"Time’s up."  

Yoru’s smirk vanished. He mobilized the spider puppet and a disguised clone, steering the chaos toward Fūjin and Raijin’s battleground.  

The Final Act 

In the mist:  

• Clones rained fake kunai barrages (selling the illusion of a desperate fight).  

• The captured Tokubetsu Jonin "screamed" (fingers freshly severed for effect). 

Then—the disguised Yoru-clone staggered into view, spider puppet "barely fending off attacks."  

"Kōsama! The captain’s here—fall back!"  

Yoru played along, launching a volley of senbon—all harmlessly absorbed by the brothers’ starch-armor.  

"Defensive formation!" the last Tokubetsu Jonin barked.  

The three Sand nin formed a triangular guard stance—  

—just as Fūjin and Raijin EXPLODED into motion.  

The ground shattered under their colossal leap, fists descending like meteors.  

The Tokubetsu Jonin twisted to dodge—  

—only for his "allies" to betray him.  

CRUNCH.  

Twin puppet strikes sheared toward his vitals.  

"Puppet Substitution Jutsu!"  

In that nanosecond between life and death, the veteran’s instincts flared. His body swapped places with a dummy—barely cheating annihilation.  

Not bad. Yoru’s eyes gleamed.  

But the show’s just starting.  

Chapter 85: Wind Blade  

"Light Sound, six o'clock direction."  

Under the detection of his Ultrasonic Radar Technique, the movements of the Special Jonin Puppet Master—who had just used a Puppet Substitution Jutsu to leap away—were laid bare.  

"Genjutsu: Hell Viewing Technique!"  

Following the tactical guidance of his shadow clone, Akimaru Light Sound instantly cast a D-rank illusion, striking the puppet master with pinpoint accuracy. Enhanced by the Akimaru clan's Kekkei Genkai in genjutsu, the Special Jonin was immediately plunged into a nightmare of terror.  

At that moment—  

Umino Yoru's body tensed violently. Veins bulged on his forehead as faint blue markings spread beneath his skin, followed by a surge of wind-natured chakra.  

"Wind Breathing: First Form— Slicing Fish Strike! "  

With a burst of the Body Flicker Technique, he shot forward like lightning, flashing past the puppet master in an instant.  

A cold gleam of sword light flashed—  

And a nearly imperceptible line appeared on the puppet master's neck.  

By the time the Special Jonin broke free from the Hell Viewing Technique, he could only cough violently as blood sprayed from his throat.  

"Cough... So fast..."  

He collapsed to the ground, eyes wide with disbelief.  

"Hah..."  

Umino Yoru quickly deactivated Wind Breathing Mode, swallowing several honeyed energy blocks before activating Gluttony Technique to rapidly restore his chakra and stamina.  

"Just in time."  

According to his Infrasound Radar Technique, Sunagakure Jonin Kazekiba—rushing back to reinforce his allies—was less than two kilometers away.  

Repeating his earlier tactic, Yoru had his shadow clone take control of the fallen Special Jonin's Salamander Puppet, disguising itself alongside two other transformed shadow clones as a Sunagakure puppet squad. They formed a defensive formation, blocking the endless hail of kunai and shuriken flying from the mist.  

Soon, Kazekiba arrived at the mist-covered riverbank.  

But instead of charging in recklessly, the seasoned Jonin swiftly formed hand seals—clearly preparing a mid-to-high-level Wind Release jutsu to carve a safe path through the fog.  

Then—  

"Aaaagh—!"  

A scream tore through the air.  

It came from the fraudulent Special Jonin overseer—even with his tongue cut out, the agony forced out a bloodcurdling shriek.  

Hearing the scream from ahead, Kazekiba halted his seals.  

"Kazekiba, was it? Your 'Lord Sabaku' has been captured. If you want him back... come in and fight me yourself."  

Hidden in the mist, Umino Yoru taunted him, "Wind Blade" drawn and ready.  

As Kazekiba hesitated, another scream rang out.  

Finally, resolve hardened in the Suna nin's eyes. Slowly, he drew his sword, murmuring:  

"Wait for me... Maki. "  

Then, with an explosive surge of unyielding shinobi will, Kazekiba stepped into the mist—advancing steadily toward the chaotic battlefield where his comrades fought.  

His footwork was deceptively calm—seemingly slow, yet blindingly fast, with irregular strides that defied prediction.  

Like a sheathed wind blade, his presence alone seemed to part the mist around him.  

"Damn... he's strong."  

Umino Yoru's eyes narrowed, his pulse racing.  

But instead of fear, excitement burned in his chest.  

The moment Kazekiba's back was turned—just ten meters away—  

"Wind Breathing: First Form— Slicing Fish Strike! "  

Yoru struck with his strongest technique, aiming for a lethal sneak attack.  

His blade sliced through the air—inches from Kazekiba's neck—  

CLANG!  

Yet, impossibly, the Suna nin countered mid-motion, blocking the strike.  

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!  

A flurry of masterful swordsmanship followed, forcing Yoru onto the defensive. Without Wind Breathing's enhancements, he would’ve been overwhelmed instantly.  

Seeing their creator outmatched, Yoru’s hidden shadow clones hurled a barrage of kunai and shuriken, disrupting Kazekiba’s rhythm.  

Seizing the opening, Yoru disengaged, vanishing back into the mist.  

"Hah..."  

He exhaled sharply.  

This guy’s on another level compared to those Chunin fodder.  

"Not bad for a Konoha Jonin," Kazekiba mocked. "But your swordsmanship is trash. "  

A taunt—meant to provoke.  

But Yoru stayed silent, biding his time.  

Another opportunity came. His clones launched another wave of projectiles as distractions.  

"Wind Breathing: First Form— Slicing Fish Strike! "  

This time, three blades descended at once—Yoru and two clones attacking in unison.  

Shrouded by the Mist Technique, their assault carried the essence of the Three Crescent Moon Dance.  

Kazekiba reacted instantly.  

His sword shattered the left clone in a puff of smoke.  

A twist of his wrist deflected the right clone’s strike.  

And just as Yoru’s real blade neared his throat—  

WHOOSH!  

Kazekiba released his grip, letting his sword fly—  

BAM!  

—impaling the right clone mid-air.  

But Yoru’s slash connected.  

SCHLICK!  

The blade bit into Kazekiba’s right shoulder—  

Yet failed to cripple him.  

At the last second, the Jonin’s left hand flared with wind chakra, intercepting the strike and preventing a clean amputation.  

Though blood dripped, the wound was shallow.  

"Shit—!"  

Yoru’s instincts screamed.  

He tried to retreat—  

But Kazekiba’s left hand clamped onto the blade, trapping it.  

Then, with a murderous glint, the Suna nin raised his right hand—  

"Wind Release: Wind Blade!"  

A flick of his fingers—  

And razor-sharp gusts erupted toward Yoru.  

"Mist Teleportation!"  

Abandoning his sword, Yoru blurred away just as the storm of wind blades shredded the space he’d occupied.  

Hidden once more, he gasped for breath.  

Too close.  

If not for Maruboshi Kosuke’s training—enhancing his Mist Teleportation—he’d be mincemeat right now.  

And if not for his past-life memories, he might’ve hesitated before dropping his weapon.  

A lesson learned:  

Against a monster like this…  

Half-measures mean death.