Revolution in the Ninja World

Sasori of the Red Sand fixed his gaze on Habara. Whether Habara was strong, what his name was—none of it mattered to Sasori right now. All he wanted to know was how Habara had stopped his puppet trap attack… Visibly, Habara hadn't made physical contact with the mechanism buried beneath his feet.

Despite this, Sasori maintained his condescending posture from before. In his eyes, cheap tricks were just cheap tricks. So what if these three were ninja with some skill? Their strength couldn't possibly compare to his own.

One couldn't say Sasori's attitude was entirely wrong, yet it courted fatal consequences. A ninja without strength wouldn't necessarily die, but an arrogant ninja rarely lived long.

Sasori of the Red Sand was undoubtedly a prodigy, his skills placing him among the elite of the shinobi world. But "very strong" was still leagues away from "the strongest," and only the latter truly earned the right to arrogance.

"A puppet squad? No, you're not Suna ninja, are you…" Sasori's gaze shifted to Zaemon Matsuyo. "Your identities are irrelevant. What matters is, why have you appeared before me now?"

"Sasori," Zaemon stated, "by order of the village elders, we are here to take you back to Sunagakure."

She didn't bother with the hypocritical phrasing of "asking you to return." It was unnecessary and meaningless; a forced action could hardly be called an invitation.

"Return? To Suna?"

It was such an amusing joke that a genuine smile touched Sasori's lips, but it lasted only a moment before twisting into mockery.

Habara found himself understanding Sasori's perspective quite well now. Geniuses like Sasori often acted with a self-righteous certainty, believing their ambitions could never be contained by a mere village. To shinobi like him, a hidden village was nothing more than a cage. Why would someone strong enough to escape ever voluntarily return to imprisonment?

Was this thinking narrow? Undoubtedly. Was it grounded in reality? Absolutely. For ninja who reached a certain level of power, the village truly did become meaningless. Conversely, if such individuals desired the village to hold more meaning for them, they often became Kage.

Sasori maintained more than one spy within Suna and controlled several Suna shinobi with special curse marks. However, having long since left, he couldn't possibly know every secret detail—otherwise, he wouldn't have failed to recognize someone with Habara's distinct features.

"Take me back to Suna… Zaemon, not everything in this world unfolds according to someone's wishes. That should be easy enough to understand, shouldn't it?" Sasori rose from the ruined wall he'd been perched on, his downward gaze softening into something akin to pity.

Just as Zaemon Matsuyo opened her mouth to respond, Habara cut her off. "Of course. What truly decides everything isn't some ninja, but the supreme gods."

As he spoke, he reached out and lightly tapped the puppet halves still hovering frozen on either side of his body. With that casual touch, they crumbled into a pile of parts on the ground.

Without waiting for Sasori's reaction, Habara continued talking to himself, "What's most valuable in the shinobi world? Talent, obviously… Zaemon, Sasori is all yours. Just keep him occupied."

Habara then turned his gaze in another direction, and Kakashi's attention followed suit.

Since talent was so precious, it was only natural for different organizations with different goals to compete for these limited resources.

The sharp clang of blades meeting echoed as Habara and Kakashi moved to intercept other guests arriving from afar… Two distinct chakra signatures had clearly entered Habara's sensory range.

"Who is it?" Kakashi asked warily.

"Not sure yet," Habara replied, half-joking. "But… could be a pleasant surprise."

The two chakra signatures were clearly heading their way, making their objective fairly obvious to Habara. What was surprising, however, was that at least one of the signatures felt incredibly familiar… It seemed someone had once again infiltrated the enemy's ranks.

Before long, two figures walking with steady, unhurried steps entered the ruins. The black cloaks adorned with blood-red clouds instantly identified their affiliation.

The chiming bells hanging from their wide-brimmed hats grew louder, clearer, until finally, on the desolate path ahead, they encountered the duo of Habara and Kakashi blocking their way.

Clearly, they were foes, not friends.

Facing these two flamboyantly dressed, steadily approaching individuals, Kakashi felt an unprecedented pressure… These enemies were likely far stronger than he could imagine.

The two figures stopped. As one of them—a slender, pale form—slowly lifted his head, revealing eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his hat, Kakashi recognized him instantly.

"Orochimaru…"

Orochimaru first glanced towards the sounds of battle, confirming the presence of their target, Sasori of the Red Sand. Then, his gaze shifted back, taking in Kakashi, then Habara. He spoke to Kakuzu beside him, "This is slightly problematic. The mission isn't as simple as anticipated… quite the unexpected stumbling block."

"Calling us a 'stumbling block' seems a bit impersonal, wouldn't you say, Lord Orochimaru?" Habara reached up, removed his mask, and smiled at the Sannin. "You look like you've been having a rather enjoyable time lately."

Being near the Rinnegan, Orochimaru naturally was enjoying himself. Though he couldn't get his hands on it, even just observing was quite satisfying.

"Thanks to you," Orochimaru chuckled softly, his words holding genuine sincerity, not mere politeness.

"Since we've both appeared here simultaneously, it implies our target is the same… Is he here?" Orochimaru asked. To get closer to the Rinnegan, Orochimaru had to diligently play the part of a subordinate for now.

"Him? Ah, Sasori of the Red Sand, you mean? He's over there, engaged in the 'appetizer'," Habara answered honestly.

Being dispatched by Chiyo for such a mission meant Zaemon Matsuyo was certainly a capable ninja. While expecting her to defeat Sasori single-handedly was wishful thinking, she wouldn't be instantly killed either.

Theoretically, Sasori was destined to become an Akatsuki member. But with Habara and Kakashi interfering, the outcome was now uncertain… Besides, things had already deviated significantly. As far as Habara knew, Konan was originally supposed to be the one to "welcome" Sasori.

Sasori's techniques were notoriously ill-suited against Konan's abilities, which was why he only went to Amegakure after being defeated. This time, however, the welcoming party had changed from a single, mature woman to a pair of old relics whose ages combined likely exceeded 150 years.

Habara didn't know precisely when Akatsuki began assembling its members, but it was a relatively lengthy process. It wasn't surprising that some changes occurred along the way.

"That face… seems familiar," Kakuzu muttered, looking at Habara. But the impression was faint, and he quickly dismissed it, refocusing on the mission. "The target is confirmed. Let's finish things here quickly. Sasori isn't easy to track; letting him escape would be troublesome."

"Quickly?" A strange smile played on Orochimaru's lips, hidden beneath his collar. "Of course, the mission comes first… How about this: Kakashi is mine. You handle the other one. Any problem with that?"

"Foolish question."

Kakuzu snorted coldly. With a sharp flick of his sleeve, he shot towards Habara like a cannonball.

The tall ninja moved with a terrifying blend of speed and power, belying his eighty or ninety years of age.

Whether he could win was secondary; Habara merely hoped he'd be half as vigorous at that age. Then again, still fighting pitched battles at that age… what exactly was the point?

Out of concern for the mental well-being of the elderly, Habara met Kakuzu's incoming fist with a single open hand. Just as his palm was about to close around the fist, Kakuzu's wrist snapped, revealing a kunai hidden up his sleeve. Habara's hand was now meeting not a fist, but a razor-sharp blade.

Truly a wily veteran who had lived for so long. Even believing himself far stronger than his opponent, Kakuzu resorted to sneak attacks without hesitation… Why not eliminate an enemy with minimal effort if possible?

Such tricks were undoubtedly effective against ordinary shinobi. Shearing off half a ninja's hand meant crippling them. However, it was useless against Habara.

As was well known in Konoha, Habara was famously… prepared. Feeling perpetually insecure in combat and even daily life, he kept his torso and arms covered in hidden metal armor.

An ear-splitting screech echoed as the kunai's edge scraped violently against Habara's palm, showering sparks. He nonchalantly grabbed the kunai blade itself, wrenching it from Kakuzu's grasp. This reckless move startled even the ancient Kakuzu.

You're not afraid of being cut?!

Kakuzu had encountered people resistant to cutting before, but they merely had regeneration slightly—well, maybe more than slightly—better than average shinobi. They were still flesh and blood when facing a blade.

Thinking of that person suddenly gave Kakuzu an ominous feeling.

Habara, of course, paid no mind to Kakuzu's thoughts. He always respected strong opponents. Thus, facing Kakuzu at such close range, he didn't hesitate to deliver a vicious roundhouse kick squarely into the older ninja's side.

The moment the unreasonable force connected, Kakuzu's body bent at an impossible angle. He shot backward like a ragdoll, crashing violently into the ruins with a tremendous boom, kicking up a massive cloud of dust.

Respect your elders—kick them into oblivion. That was Habara's creed.

Such an attack would paralyze an ordinary ninja from the waist down, and likely the waist up too. But thanks to Kakuzu's secret technique, Jiongu, blunt force trauma of this degree caused him almost no damage… Kakuzu couldn't out-cute any cute girl, but he could certainly be more flexible, somewhat like Orochimaru.

Unlike Orochimaru, however, Kakuzu also played dirty.

Knowing the kick hadn't truly harmed Kakuzu, Habara immediately charged into the swirling dust cloud.

Before he got close, a pulsating ball of orange-red flame erupted towards him.

Habara continued his charge but dropped low, the flames searing the air just above his back as they flew past. Simultaneously, he touched his right hand to the ground, pulled back, and pushed down. Using the reaction force, his speed instantly surged as he straightened up.

Just as the bypassed flames detonated behind him, Habara appeared right in front of Kakuzu. He thrust with the kunai he'd just stolen. As the tip struck Kakuzu's palm, it snapped cleanly in two.

Almost a mirror image of moments before; Kakuzu also possessed a hardened black hand.

But this time was different. Habara's next attack followed instantly. His left hand formed a knife-edge, brilliant lightning crackling around it. Swinging his hand down like an axe, the "Lightning Blade" struck Kakuzu's indestructible wrist. Like a hot knife through butter, it sliced the hand off cleanly.

Guessed right, Habara thought smugly. Any defensive technique he couldn't identify, Habara treated as Earth Style (Doton). And the counter to Earth Style was, naturally, Lightning Style (Raiton).

Kakuzu's hardening jutsu was called Doton: Domu (Earth Style: Earth Spear). Clearly, it was indeed "Earth" based. Since Habara's guess was correct, the result was exceptionally effective.

Yet, faced with such a gruesome misfortune as a severed hand, Kakuzu neither screamed in agony nor showed resentment or anger. At this close range, his body suddenly exploded like a tangled ball of black yarn. The black threads of Jiongu, a hundred times more complex than tangled earphone cords, lashed out towards Habara.

Simultaneously, Kakuzu's severed right hand sprang up from the ground where it landed, darting towards Habara's throat.

Habara could only retreat rapidly. His evasion wasn't so much due to fear of Jiongu's power, but rather revulsion at its appearance… A body filled not with blood, but black threads—the thought alone made his skin crawl.

In that sense, Kakuzu's entire aesthetic was pure body horror.

Kakuzu's "backup plan" attack missed. With a dense flurry of whipping sounds, a mass of black threads still managed to wrap around Habara's arm. Unfortunately for Kakuzu, they couldn't penetrate Habara's flesh, blocked by the layer of armor beneath his clothes.

With a flick of his right wrist, Habara summoned his Mercury Longsword, radiating an icy chill. What followed was like reaping grass; the tangled black threads were instantly severed by the impossibly sharp blade.

Then, the Mercury Longsword in Habara's hand began to rapidly elongate and reshape, finally morphing into a massive, long-handled scythe… His opponent looked far too unsanitary; keeping a distance seemed prudent.

Kakuzu now realized Habara seemed somewhat "impervious to blades and bullets." He assumed it was some defensive secret technique. Without an efficient way to break it, there was only one option: overwhelm it with raw offensive power.

Kakuzu could no longer hold back. He began his "mitosis."

Four bulges erupted from his back. Something tore through his cloak—sadly, not elegant butterflies emerging from cocoons, but rather four grotesque entities: each a masked face surrounded by writhing black threads.

These masks contained hearts stolen from other shinobi, granting Kakuzu mastery over all five basic nature transformations. Clearly, living longer meant learning more—or at least, learning more shortcuts.

Facing these four speeding abominations, Habara could only continue retreating. While falling back, he switched weapons again, nocking an arrow to his bow, preparing to shoot the airborne monstrosities down.

However, partly due to his archery skills being less than professional, and partly because the flying masks were incredibly agile, several shots missed their mark.

In the blink of an eye, Kakuzu's special "clones" closed in. Annoyed at being unable to showcase the skills he'd envisioned, Habara didn't hesitate. He flung a sphere of mercury towards one of the masks.

The mercury sphere bloomed spectacularly. Countless sharp, resilient silver threads instantly formed a barrier before the oncoming mask. Unable to brake in mid-air, the mask flew straight into the web of threads and was easily torn apart.

Along with the heart behind it.

The black threads themselves, due to their unique composition, weren't easily shredded.

With one mask sacrificed crashing into the "dandelion," the other three abruptly halted their advance, even retreating back towards Kakuzu, hesitating to act rashly.

Looking at the metal sword casket on Habara's back, then considering the technique he just used, Kakuzu couldn't help but speak. "I think I know who you are now."

"Is that so? Then I'm truly honored," Habara called back from behind the shimmering sphere of mercury threads.

At this point, Habara wasn't surprised his abilities were known. Based on Kakuzu's reaction, he suspected the shinobi world's black market exchange already had a bounty on his head.

How much, I wonder? The thought was rather intriguing.

Regardless, Kakuzu abandoned close combat, switching to long-range ninjutsu attacks:

"Fire Style: Searing Mind" "Wind Style: Pressure Damage"

"Compound Ninjutsu: Raging Flame Gale!"

A sea of fiercely burning flames surged forward like an overturned ocean, instantly engulfing Habara's figure. Under the unimaginable heat, even the surrounding ruins began to melt.

The scorching temperature distorted the air and light. On the other side of the battlefield, Orochimaru glanced at the spectacular display of power and couldn't help but shake his head.

Compared to the flashy pyrotechnics over there, the battle between Kakashi and Orochimaru was far more natural, far more "ninja-like."

Taijutsu interspersed with ninjutsu, the distance constantly closing and widening, cautious probes followed by potentially lethal strikes…

Of course, compared to Kakashi's focused shinobi approach, the question of how much strength Orochimaru had actually committed to the fight so far remained open.

"Habara seems to be at a disadvantage. To use such a wide-range jutsu… my companion appears to be no pushover," Orochimaru commented, clearly far more composed than Kakuzu, even able to divide his attention during his own fight.

Kakashi didn't even spare Habara a glance. "Orochimaru, if you think Habara is still the same strength as when you left Konoha, you're gravely mistaken."

Kakashi didn't believe for a second Habara could be killed by a simple fire jutsu. If Habara did die like that, well, he'd frankly deserve it. Always scheming this and planning that, full of ideas, only to drop dead the moment he stepped onto a battlefield? If you couldn't curse such a person for getting what they deserved, you'd at least have to commend them for dying well.

"Is that so? Understandable, I suppose. Habara isn't an ordinary ninja, after all… Regardless, I must take Sasori of the Red Sand. This is my first official mission, failing would be rather unacceptable," Orochimaru said.

"Mission?" Kakashi's mind raced. He began probing for information. "Orochimaru, what exactly are you planning this time?"

In Kakashi's mind, Orochimaru was surely orchestrating some grand, nefarious scheme again. His imagination, however, couldn't stretch to comprehend a powerhouse like Orochimaru willingly working for someone else, content to play a supporting role.

It wasn't Kakashi's fault his imagination was lacking; a legendary Sannin acting as someone's subordinate? The world had become far too bizarre.

"What plan? Why don't you guess?"

Orochimaru certainly wouldn't reveal Akatsuki intelligence to Kakashi. At least, not now—mostly because he himself had no idea what Akatsuki was truly planning.

Since Orochimaru remained tight-lipped, Kakashi finally made his decision… He couldn't let Orochimaru continue roaming the shinobi world freely. The man was simply too dangerous.

Orochimaru hadn't been a Konoha ninja since the day he defected. He was detrimental to the village, an enemy, not a friend. Kakashi shouldn't have any reservations.

Kakashi deflected Orochimaru's kunai attack with one hand and leaped back two steps. His hands blurred through seals with dazzling speed:

"Fire Style: Fire Dragon Flame Bullet!"

Intense flames converged into a stream, shooting towards Orochimaru at incredible speed!

"Fire Dragon Flame Bullet ? No, this is different from the Old Man's technique. The temperature is too high, far exceeding even compound fire ninjutsu…"

Orochimaru swiftly dodged to the side, thoughts flashing through his mind.

Of course, the temperature of Kakashi's technique was astonishing. He was using an improved version of Fire Style. The modification wasn't extensive, but the boost in effect was dramatic… He had simply mixed special metallic powder obtained from Habara into the jutsu as he performed it.

Terms like "thermobaric" or "fuel-air explosive" were unknown to Kakashi, but he definitely understood the beauty of destructive yield.

However, just as Orochimaru evaded the fiery blast, an intense sense of crisis washed over him.

"What the—"

Orochimaru snapped his head towards Kakashi's position. He suddenly realized that Kakashi's three-tomoe Sharingan had, at some point, transformed into the shape of a three-bladed shuriken.

Using the powerful fire jutsu had forced Orochimaru to dodge in a specific direction, right into Kakashi's true killing blow:

"Kamui!"

"Mangekyō Sharingan… but not on an Uchiha…" was Orochimaru's final thought.

Then, the twisting power of distorted space snapped his neck, sending his head flying off to places unknown.