#63 The Sand Will Rise!

When Mufasa’s Lightning Dragon Drill struck Sasori, a surge of electricity coursed through his puppet body.

The magnetic field around him intensified, locking him completely under Mufasa’s control.

Mufasa grinned. "Now, let’s have some fun."

Sasori’s body moved against his will. First, he was forced into a ridiculous pose, arms stretched out awkwardly. Then, Mufasa twisted him into a different stance, balancing on one foot like a wobbly crane. Next, he bent Sasori’s limbs into the shape of a praying Buddha, then doing a Michael Jackson dance move.

Sasori’s expression was frozen in disbelief. Inside, his mind reeled. He had spent decades mastering puppetry, and now—he was the puppet.

His normally flat voice carried a hint of horror. "How… how are you doing this?"

Mufasa smirked. "I told you already—I’m a master of magnetism. Your puppet body? Just another plaything for me."

After a few more absurd poses, Mufasa finally stopped. "Alright, that’s enough. I’m not some kind of creep who enjoys toying with people."

Sasori’s voice was sharp. "Then what do you want?"

Mufasa’s tone shifted, becoming more serious. "You killed the Third Kazekage. You abandoned your village. You joined a terrorist organization. Despite all that, I don’t want to destroy you. I want you to work for me."

Sasori narrowed his eyes. "You want me to kill for you?"

Mufasa scoffed. "Man, the war really did a number on you. All you think about is fighting and killing. Did it ever occur to you that your talents could be used for something greater? What if, instead of making weapons, you used your puppetry to help people? Build a better world?"

Sasori’s reply was blunt. "No."

His voice carried a bitter edge. "If you think you can sway me with pretty words, don’t bother. I have no interest in some idealistic dream."

Mufasa sighed. "So you don’t even want to create a world where your parents exist?"

Sasori froze. For the first time, he was silent.

Mufasa leaned in slightly. "You already built their puppets, didn’t you? But they’re just lifeless dolls. No warmth, no real presence. Just cold metal."

Sasori said nothing.

Mufasa continued, his voice calm but firm. "The kind of puppets I want to create will be different. They’ll have warmth, memories, emotions. They’ll laugh with you, scold you, wake you up in the morning. They won’t just be puppets—they’ll be family."

A vision of something greater unfolded before Sasori’s eyes. A world where puppets weren’t just tools of war, but something more… something real.

Mufasa saw the flicker of hesitation in Sasori’s expression. He pressed on. "And if you prefer a different path, we can create a virtual world instead—one where you can live with them, forever."

Sasori opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Finally, he whispered, "Both. I want to try both."

Mufasa chuckled. "Good answer."

Then, he extended a hand. "So, will you work with me?"

Sasori glanced at Mufasa, then at the towering mechanical puppet behind him. "I only know how to make puppets. And yours… are already superior to mine."

Mufasa shook his head. "Nah, those are just blueprints. What I need is your mind—your genius. Your regenerative core technology could take my puppet army to the next level. That’s why I’m appointing you as the Captain of the Puppet Division in my ninja army. What do you say?"

Sasori was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. I’ll work for you. But if you betray me—"

"Yeah, yeah," Mufasa waved dismissively. "You’ll kill me, your poison is unstoppable, yada yada."

To prove a point, he grabbed one of the retractable poison needles from Sasori’s chest compartment and dragged it across his own palm. The venom barely had a second to spread before a burst of bioelectricity purged it from his system, vaporizing the toxin into thin air.

He grinned at Sasori’s dumbfounded look. "See? Even if I did betray you, you wouldn’t be able to do a thing."

Sasori’s eyes narrowed. "Then why should I trust you?"

Mufasa’s smirk didn’t waver. "Because if you really want to surpass me—if you want to create something better—you’re going to have to keep working, keep building. And to do that, you need time."

Sasori stared at him. Then, finally, he exhaled and muttered, "Fine. But remember—I expect to be paid."

Mufasa laughed. "Of course."

"And I don’t like working around other people. I want complete control over my research."

Mufasa casually placed a hand on Sasori’s regeneration core. A pulse of electricity surged through it, forming an invisible web of energy.

Sasori stiffened. "What did you do?"

Mufasa’s smile was all too cheerful. "Oh, just a little failsafe. If you ever slack off, your heart goes boom. And you’ll only get full research privileges when you actually complete your assignments. Work-life balance, you know?"

Sasori clenched his jaw. "You really are a capitalist scum."

Mufasa shrugged. "Welcome to the team, kid. Now get to work."

With Sasori and Deidara taken care of, the alarm in the village was lifted.

The loudspeakers echoed through the streets:

"Third-level security is lifted. Third-level security is lifted."

The massive defensive barriers that had covered the entire village retracted, and the air cannons folded away. Life in the village and industrial sector quickly returned to normal, as people resumed their daily routines without a second thought.

Mufasa led Sasori back to the command tower, where Tsunade was the first to greet them. She rushed over, her lips forming a wild smile.

"Mufasa, that Lightning Dragon Drill of yours was incredible!"

Mufasa smirked, basking in the praise. "That? That was nothing. I have plenty more moves—Heart Piercer, Desert Storm, Electric Fire Twin Sky—all just as powerful. We should spar sometime."

Tsunade grinned. "You're on."

Turning to Gaara, Mufasa gestured toward Sasori. "You recognize him, right?"

Gaara nodded. How could he not? Sasori was a legendary puppeteer, once hailed as the finest craftsman in the Sand Village before his defection.

"He's the new captain of the Third Ninja Unit—the Puppet Divion," Mufasa continued.

Gaara raised an eyebrow. "Puppet Division?"

Mufasa nodded. "Yeah, they'll be a crucial part of our future ninja army. Take him to register, show him around. If he prefers solitude, give him a house on the outskirts."

Then, looking at Sasori, he added, "This is Gaara, commander-in-chief of the ninja army. From now on, you answer to him—aside from me."

Sasori gave a small nod, accepting his new role without complaint. Gaara led him toward the Ninja Registration Office to complete the necessary procedures. As they walked, Sasori broke the silence.

"Who else is in the Puppet Division?"

Gaara’s response was curt. "Just you. Build your team quickly, or you'll slow us down. And I won’t tolerate that."

Sasori didn’t react, but internally, he noted how cold Gaara was. Puppeteers didn’t need rest, after all. It seemed the Sand Village had produced another tireless workaholic.

Back at the command tower, Tsunade’s welcome banquet continued.

She raised a cup of sake and toasted Mufasa. "I never imagined the Sunagakure would change so much under your leadership. Your defenses are on a whole other level."

Mufasa chuckled. "Want a set for Konoha?"

Tsunade's eyes lit up. "Could you really do that?!"

"Of course."

Selling weapons and security infrastructure was far more profitable than selling small trinkets. Large-scale projects like this came with countless benefits.

Tsunade leaned forward. "How much would it cost?"

Mufasa scratched his chin. "Hard to say exactly, but here's a rough estimate:

You'll need a power plant with a capacity of 70 million megawatts to sustain everything. A command center. Infrastructure upgrades—roads, pipelines, reinforced buildings. We’re talking tens of millions of tons of raw materials, including steel and high-density wiring. My guess? Seven or eight figures. Probably tens of billions."

Tsunade nearly choked on her drink. She took a deep gulp instead, suppressing the financial pain.

Mufasa laughed. "Relax, relax! That’s the total cost. We can break it into phases. If Konoha doesn’t have the funds, we can even offer a loan."

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "A loan?"

"Yeah, a targeted loan. The Sand Village lends you the money, which you then use to purchase our materials and services. That way, your immediate financial burden is reduced. And if Konoha acts as our regional distributor, you can even profit from the deal."

Tsunade sighed. "The village elders will never go for it."

Mufasa scoffed. "That’s the real problem, isn’t it? Konoha has a prime location, powerful clans, and incredible talent, yet it constantly falls behind the Cloud Village."

Tsunade tensed. The history between Konoha and the Cloud was filled with bloodshed and betrayal. Mufasa didn’t hesitate to press further.

"Your so-called advisors let the Cloud Village trample over Konoha. They let your people suffer for their own power and status. And now, the world is changing. If those old fossils stay in power, Konoha has no future."

Tsunade stared at him, her grip tightening around her cup. Then, after a moment, she let out a chuckle. "All this talk about the changing world... let's be honest, you're really just talking about yourself."

Mufasa grinned, unashamed. "Exactly. I am the wind of change. I'll be the one who will lead the ninja world into the future. I want you to stand by my side, Tsunade."

She laughed, but deep down, she knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Kakashi recalled what Mufasa had said to them before leaving.

"I personally feel that Lord Kazekage yearns for peace in his heart."

Shimura Danzo was unimpressed. His sharp gaze bore into Kakashi. "You are weak," he scoffed. "Have you been bewitched?"

Naruto clenched his fists, his frustration evident. "Kakashi-sensei is right!" he shot back. "I don’t think Uncle Mufeng looks like a bad guy."

Danzo's face darkened, his patience wearing thin. "You all seem to have been influenced by the Sand Ninja," he said coldly. "Talking back at such a young age..."

"Enough!" Tsunade’s voice rang through the room, cutting Danzo off. Her glare was sharp as a kunai. "I asked them to share their judgment, and I have my own judgment on what to do next."

Danzo wasn’t ready to back down. "Then, Hokage-sama, please judge," he pressed. "Our enemy grows stronger by the day. Are we going to just stand by and do nothing?"

Tsunade let out a long sigh. Mufasa’s words echoed in her mind.

"Stand by my side, Tsunade."

Damn it, was this what he meant by keeping up? If they didn’t follow closely, they’d be left behind—and forced to catch up under pressure.

She scanned the room, her golden eyes settling on the gathered council members. "What’s your opinion?"

Nara Shikaku, ever the strategist, spoke up first. "My lady, even if we don’t see the Suna as an enemy, their advancements are undeniable. We should learn from them."

Murmurs of agreement filled the room. The thought of Sunagakure pulling together a force of 70,000 to 80,000 ninja-like soldiers was a terrifying prospect. No one wanted to be on the losing side of history.

Tsunade sat back, feeling the shift in the air. A wind was blowing from the Land of Wind, carrying with it the heat of the desert. Under such heat, there was only one choice—run forward or be left behind.

A smirk curled at the corner of her lips. If they had to run, she would make sure Konoha was at the front.

She slammed her fist onto the conference table. "Since we all agree, we’ll begin industrial development immediately. Konoha will establish the Industrial Development Company to oversee this expansion."

Shimura Danzo straightened, a gleam of satisfaction in his eye. His influence had won. With his intelligence and experience, he was appointed the first chairman, reporting directly to Tsunade.

Danzo’s ambitions flared. "The Kazekage’s ambitions end here. In the future, the world will know the might of Konoha-brand ninja tools. We’ll even sell them back to Hidden Sand Village!"

The room erupted in applause. Danzo’s gaze flickered toward Tsunade. In his mind, this was only the beginning. Once the company grew, he would make sure she was out of the picture.

And so, Konoha’s industrial revolution began.

Meanwhile, in Sunagakure…

Mufasa, accompanied by Sasori, was inspecting the Blood Pool Factory.

The factory had undergone its third round of upgrades. Originally, massive blood pools resembling swimming pools had been transformed into long, narrow channels. Blood was funneled down into a central reservoir, and mechanical arms lined the tanks on either side.

Sasori gestured toward the machines. "My lord, watch this—once the blade is fully restored, the arm detects the weight and automatically removes it."

A mechanical arm lifted a fully repaired beheading sword from the blood.

Another arm descended.

Click.

It snapped the sword in half.

The conveyor belts whirred as they carried the pieces away—one half sent back into the blood, the other transported to the ironworks for further refinement. The process was seamless, fully automated.

Mufasa watched in satisfaction as rows of mechanical arms moved like a synchronized forest, efficiently repairing and recycling weapons.

"Well done, Captain Sasori," he praised. "This is excellent work."

Sasori, finally motivated after the threat of losing his privilege to pilot the Gundam, stood a little taller. "I serve you, my lord."

Mufasa chuckled. "It’s not just for me, but for everyone. The more efficient we are, the more resources we gain. That means more materials for you to build stronger puppets."

Sasori’s eyes gleamed with excitement. "That would be ideal."

Mufasa tilted his head. "Though, isn’t your current body already quite powerful? Why the need to change?"

Sasori’s new form hovered in midair, his regeneration core encased in a floating metallic sphere. Two small mechanical arms extended from the core, alongside a large mechanical eye—his entire essence condensed into a levitating machine.

He looked…

Cute.

Like a bizarre, legless, big-eyed monster.

"This form is more efficient for my work," Sasori explained, spinning in a slow circle. "The human body is far too cumbersome. See? I can move wherever I please!"

Mufasa sighed, watching the once-handsome puppeteer twirl happily in the air. The kawaii factor was still intact, at least.

As they continued their inspection, the ground suddenly trembled beneath them.

A low, ominous rumble echoed through the factory.

The wind outside howled violently, whipping up a storm of yellow sand that swallowed the sky.

Mufasa’s expression darkened. Something was wrong.

He reached for his communication device. "Gaara, return to the central control tower immediately. We’re going into Level Three Alert."

Sasori wasted no time, swiftly returning to the puppet factory to prepare for battle.

Mufasa shot into the sky, his electromagnetic vision piercing through the thick sandstorm. His senses locked onto the disturbance’s origin—it was coming from the direction of the Dragon Veins.

His jaw tightened. "The Dragon Vein… Something’s happening."

With Sunagakure’s advancements, they had long since established a route to the Dragon Vein for research and energy extraction. Kabuto was leading the efforts there.

Mufasa’s heart pounded.

Without hesitation, he surged toward the Dragon Vein, prepared for whatever chaos awaited him.