I, Uchiha, will not be whitewashed!

River Country, River Mouth Town.

When Sakumo Hatake and his group of four arrived, Jiraiya was already there.

He sat on a bench at a tea stall at the entrance of town, with three bowls of tea in front of him, all of which he had drunk half of.

Upon seeing Sakumo Hatake, he stood up, dusted off his trousers, and grinned. "Sakumo, long time no see."

Sakumo Hatake nodded. "Jiraiya."

The two did not exchange pleasantries or shake hands.

Those who survive the battlefield don't need these.

Jiraiya's gaze shifted from Sakumo Hatake to Sakugo, pausing for a moment.

He carried a knife longer than his body on his back, his face expressionless.

He had heard of this kid—Blade, a name that came from Iwagakure, a super genius of the younger generation of the Uchiha clan, who, along with the kid from the Sakumo clan, became the Twin Blades of Konoha.

In the battle against Sunagakure, he single-handedly held off hundreds of puppeteers.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't ask any further questions.

"The old man gave us information about Kawanokuchi, but we'll have to find out exactly where Sasori is hiding ourselves."

Jiraiya pushed a bowl of tea towards Sakumo Hatake. "I've already sent my men to inquire. This place isn't big; they should have some results in half a day."

Sakumo Hatake sat down, picked up his teacup, but didn't drink. "And you?"

"Me?" Jiraiya crossed his arms, grinning somewhat irreverently. "I have my own way of doing things. I heard the proprietress of the izakaya in town is quite nice... cough cough, I mean, her gossip is more accurate than the ANBU's intelligence."

Sakumo Hatake glanced at him but didn't say anything.

Jiraiya left.

He strode forward, his cloak billowing behind him, like a wanderer heading to a banquet. After a few steps, he glanced back at Shuoge.

"Hey kid, wanna come? The grilled skewers at the izakaya are pretty good."

Shuoge raised an eyebrow slightly. Inviting a kid who was not even ten years old to the red-light district?

Jiraiya is really something else—

"What a pity." Jiraiya walked away without looking back.

The town is small, with a few stone-paved roads, two rows of wooden houses, and in the distance, bamboo forests and streams typical of the land of rivers.

Hatake Sakumo sent two Chunin to inquire at the town entrance and the dock, while he took Sakugo to the general store on the north side of town.

The shopkeeper was a fat man in his fifties, with a smile plastered on his face, but his eyes didn't. Sakumo Hatake placed a portrait on the counter; the shopkeeper glanced at it, and his smile faded slightly.

Have you seen this person before?

"Never seen it before." The boss shook his head; it was too fast.

Sakumo Hatake didn't press the matter. He took a small silver ingot from his pocket and placed it next to the portrait.

The shopkeeper's eyes followed the silver for a moment, then looked away.

"I've never seen anything like it."

Sakumo Hatake put away the silver and the portrait, then turned and left.

Shuoge followed him out of the general store before speaking. "He's seen me before."

"Know."

Sakumo Hatake's voice was flat. "But he won't say. Sasori has been here for two years; either he paid hush money, or he's afraid of retaliation. You can't get any information out of him."

They changed shops several times: a pharmacy, a blacksmith shop, and a puppet parts shop.

The pharmacy owner said she had never seen the person in the portrait, but she glanced at it and then closed the door.

The blacksmith said he "didn't know," but he rubbed his fingers on his apron a few times—a sign of nervousness. The clerk at the puppet parts shop was the most direct; he shook his head at the sight of the portrait, and then started trembling.

Sakumo Hatake stood on the street, going over those reactions in his mind.

The pharmacy closed too quickly, the blacksmith's hands trembled, and the parts shop's clerk was afraid—Scorpion had been to these places.

I've not just been here a few times, I come here frequently.

A puppeteer needs to buy medicine, repair parts, and replenish tools. Kawanokuchi is only so big; Sasori's activity range won't extend beyond this town.

"Found it." Hatake Sakumo had narrowed down the general area.

Shuoge nodded.

As evening fell, Jiraiya returned from the izakaya.

His face was slightly flushed from the alcohol, and he was holding a half-eaten skewer of grilled meat in his hand, humming an unknown tune. He walked up to Hatake Sakumo, stuffed the skewer into his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and swallowed.

"The landlady said that a young man who doesn't like to go out lives in the wooden house by the bamboo grove on the east side of town. He's rarely seen, and occasionally comes out at night to buy things. He buys them and leaves, without chatting or even looking up."

He paused, the drunkenness in his eyes disappearing. "He goes to the puppet parts shop, the pharmacy, the blacksmith shop every few days. He just bought a batch of poison raw materials last week."

Sakumo Hatake looked at him. "You asked that?"

"Boss lady."

Jiraiya grinned. "I told her I'm a writer and wanted to hear some stories about the martial arts world. And that's when she started talking non-stop."

He glanced at Sakugo, then at Hatake Sakumo. "Scorpion is on the east side of town, next to the bamboo forest. He lives alone, doesn't like to go out, and is occasionally active at night. That's pretty much confirmed."

Sakumo Hatake stood up and hung his sword at his waist. "We'll make our move tonight."

"Wait." Jiraiya raised his hand. "I've drunk two jugs of sake, and you've been traveling all day. Rest first, then we'll move around at midnight. Sasori can't escape."

Sakumo Hatake paused for a moment, then nodded.

The four of them found a small inn on the edge of town, with two rooms, and took turns resting.

Sakumo Hatake sat by the window, a sword across his lap, his eyes closed.

Sakugo sat silently in the corner, twirling a shuriken in his hand. Two Chunin lay on the ground, their breathing very light; it was unclear whether they were asleep or listening.

There has never been a rest.

He stood at the hotel entrance, leaning against the doorframe, looking at the moon.

The moonlight shone on his face, and his usually playful face was now quiet.

He recalled the words the Third Hokage had spoken when he entrusted him with this task: "Capture Sasori of the Red Sand alive. This is the key to ending the war."

He didn't ask why then, and he doesn't need to now.

In the middle of the night, the moon was obscured by clouds. Jiraiya knocked on the door, and the person inside opened their eyes at the same time.

"It's time to go."

The six people left the inn and walked eastward along the town's cobblestone street.

There was no sound, no light.

Only the sound of footsteps on the stone slabs was heard, very light, like a night owl stepping across a rooftop.

-

On the east side of the town, the bamboo forest looked like a black wall under the moonlight.

The bamboo leaves rustled in the wind, masking their footsteps.

Jiraiya was walking at the front when he suddenly slowed down. He raised his hand and clenched his fist. Everyone stopped at the same time.

Ahead, beside a bamboo grove, stands a wooden house.

There were no lights, the door was closed, and the windows were closed.

There was no smoke from the chimney, no shoes at the door, and the grass in the yard was overgrown, clearly untended for a long time. But Jiraiya could smell it—not blood, but medicine.

A faint scent wafted from the cracks in the wooden house, mingling with the aroma of bamboo leaves.

Hatake Sakumo drew his sword. Sakugo's hand rested on the hilt. Two Chunin spread out, blocking both sides of the wooden hut. Jiraiya stood at the front, his hands forming a hand seal.

"Sasori of the Red Sand." His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear. "I've found you."

-

Sasori of the Red Sand, grandson of Chiyo, advisor of Sunagakure, is hailed as a genius puppeteer.

As a child, his parents were killed by Sakumo Hatake during a mission, which caused him to close himself off and walk alone on the dark path of puppetry.

Under Chiyo's tutelage, he inherited the essence of puppetry and surpassed all previous puppeteers, even assassinating the Third Kazekage.

At this time, Sasori had recently defected from Sunagakure and had not yet joined Akatsuki, and was hiding in the Land of Rivers.

To be precise, he is working diligently on his masterpiece—transforming the remains of the Third Kazekage into the strongest human puppet.

Once completed, this puppet will retain all of the Third Kazekage's bloodline limits and combat abilities, becoming Sasori's sharpest killing tool.

-

The room suddenly fell silent.

That silence wasn't because no one was there; it was because someone was deliberately holding their breath.

The bamboo leaves rustled, and moonlight peeked through the gaps in the clouds, shining on the windows of the wooden house. It was pitch black, and nothing could be seen.

Jiraiya's hand remained suspended in mid-air, not falling. Sakumo Hatake's sword was already three inches from its sheath. Sakumo's fingers rested on the hilt, his three-tomoe Sharingan silently swirling.

The door opened. Not by a person, but by a puppet.

The thing that came out from behind the door didn't look like a person; it looked more like a reptile.

Its dark red shell is covered with uneven, wart-like bumps, resembling the skin of a toad.

It had short, thick limbs, lay on the ground, and dragged a spiky tail behind it.

It had a huge head, distorted facial features, two black holes in its eyes, and a mouth that stretched to its ears, revealing a row of jagged, sharp teeth.

The moonlight shone on the puppet, its dark red shell gleaming with an oily sheen, as if coated with a layer of blood.

Jiraiya frowned slightly.

"Hiruko".

He had heard of this puppet, a combat shell made by Scorpion, which combined attack, defense, poison gas, and hidden weapons.

But he had never seen the actual object.

Now that he's seen it, it's uglier and more unsettling than he imagined.

Sakumo Hatake's sword was drawn two inches further from its sheath.

His eyes were fixed on the puppet's abdomen—there was a slit there, barely noticeable unless you looked closely.

But the Sharingan saw it.

Shuoge tapped his finger on the hilt of the knife, a coded signal that meant "the main body is inside."

Fei Liu Hu slowly raised her head, her two dark eyes scanning the six people from left to right and then from right to left. She was expressionless and silent, but something seemed to be moving within that slit.

Jiraiya's hand came down.

The six people simultaneously dispersed, blocking all of Hiruko's escape routes.

The puppeteer's greatest weakness is his own body.

The main body is too weak and easily targeted.

The puppeteer's greatest advantage is the puppet itself, which is unpredictable and ever-changing.

The scorpion, however, combined these two things together.

The main body is hidden inside the puppet. When you attack the puppet, it hides in its shell; when you flank it from behind, its tail awaits you; when you launch a frontal assault, its poison gas and hidden weapons spray out from all directions.

If you want to attack the main body, you must first break this shell.

This is the significance of Hiruko. A mobile fortress that hides the puppeteer's weaknesses and maximizes his strengths.

Shuoge stared at the dark red puppet, his three-tomoe Sharingan slowly rotating in the moonlight. He was searching for the crack, for the location of the main body, for the flaw in this shell.

But Hiruko's design was more ingenious than any puppet he had ever seen—the gaps were hidden in the shadows of the joints, and the main body was tucked away in the core of the puppet, so that all attacks had to pass through the outer shell before they could reach the person inside.

"A genius," Shuo Ge said softly.

It's not a compliment, it's a statement.

Hiruko turned her head halfway around, her dark eyes fixed on him.

-

Hiruko's head was aimed at Sakugo.

Something was moving inside those two dark eye sockets—not eyes, but the flow of chakra.

The scorpion was sizing him up, as if he were examining a piece of material.

"Oh, so they're taking me for a pushover?"

Shuoge raised an eyebrow and slightly curled the corners of his mouth in a half-smile.

His sword was still in its sheath, his hand resting on the hilt, his posture unchanged.

But Jiraiya, standing next to him, sensed something was off—this kid wasn't nervous, he was excited.

The excitement a hunter feels when he sees his prey willingly walk into the trap.

"You guys go set up the barrier." Jiraiya didn't turn around; his voice wasn't loud, but it brooked no argument. "Leave this to me and Sakumo."

The four Chunin nodded simultaneously, then silently dispersed and disappeared into the bamboo forest.

A barrier is necessary.

Capturing alive is ten times harder than killing.

If Sasori tries to escape, all his escape routes must be sealed off. Four Chunin, four directions, four layers of barriers. This was the plan devised by the Third Hokage before he set off.

Jiraiya turned around and looked at Hiruko's dark red shell.

His hands were already hanging at his sides, ready to form hand seals at any moment.

He glanced at Hatake Sakumo, whose sword was already drawn, standing on Hiruko's flank, blocking its escape route into the depths of the bamboo forest.

They work together seamlessly and don't need to say a word.

Then he heard Shuoge's voice.

I want to give it a try.

Jiraiya frowned slightly.

He looked at Shuoge, the kid was still standing there, his sword still sheathed, his hand still on the hilt.

The expression on his face wasn't one of bravado or hot-blooded enthusiasm; it was the calm of someone saying, "Let me have some fun first." Jiraiya had seen many geniuses, and he had also seen many geniuses die because of their arrogance.

"you--?"

His voice was low. "Do you know who he is? Sasori of the Red Sand. In the entire ninja world, only Chiyo can surpass him in puppetry. Chiyo is old, but he's in his prime. These aren't the small fry you used to deal with."

Jiraiya wasn't underestimating Sakugo, but he didn't want Konoha's young seedlings to perish here.

Sakugo didn't speak; he turned and glanced at Hatake Sakumo.

Sakumo Hatake did not object. He neither nodded nor shook his head, nor even looked at Sakumo. But his sword remained pointed at Hiruko, unmoved.

It means—you go ahead, I'll watch.

Jiraiya noticed Sakumo Hatake's reaction and remained silent for a moment.

He knew this guy. Hatake Sakumo wouldn't send his own team members to their deaths. If he acquiesced, it meant this kid wouldn't at least fall in the first round.

"Then go ahead and give it a try." Jiraiya's voice softened a bit, but he didn't lower his hand. His hand seal was still there, ready to intervene at any moment.

Fei Liu Hu turned his head halfway around, his two dark eyes staring at Shuo Ge.

The scorpion didn't speak, but an aura of contempt emanated from its dark red shell, like the smell of rotting flesh.

A brat who's about the same height as Hiruko is not worthy of standing in front of him?

Shuoge took a step.

It's not "rush," it's "go."

The pace was neither too fast nor too slow, like practicing swordsmanship by the river or taking a stroll under the moonlight.

The knife is still in its sheath, my hand rests on the hilt, and the wind flows over the blade.

His three-tomoe Sharingan stared at the slit on Hiruko's abdomen, where her true form lay, the Achilles' heel of this shell. He walked slowly, each step crunching softly on the bamboo leaves.

Hiruko's tail moved. Not to attack, but to adjust its angle. The dark red venomous stinger was aimed at Sakugo's chest.

Scorpion is waiting, waiting for him to reach the optimal firing range.

Sakumo was still walking. Ten steps, nine steps, eight steps. Jiraiya's fingers tightened slightly. Sakumo's sword remained motionless. Seven steps, six steps, five steps.

Hiruko's mouth opened.

……