The battle at Quicksand Ravine had been won through calculated opportunism.
Shiraishi knew this better than anyone.
He had taken advantage of the fact that the two missing-nin knew nothing about his methods. Now, standing amid the gruesome aftermath, he suppressed the nausea rising in his throat and began inspecting the bodies.
There was almost nothing to gain.
No ninjutsu scrolls.
Not even a single usable explosive tag.
They were poorer than he was.
On second thought, it made sense. Surviving in such a harsh, desolate region, these people were hardly in a position to accumulate wealth.
Shiraishi's gaze swept over the ravaged battlefield. He formed hand seals and unrolled a scroll, activating a prepared sealing array. Flames surged forth, quickly engulfing the area.
A shinobi's corpse left behind too much information—memories, traces, clues.
In this battle, Shiraishi had exposed far too much, especially the use of Treasure-Gathering Technique, which closely resembled Magnet Release.
To avoid future complications with ANBU investigations, he chose absolute erasure.
Sunagakure was in an extremely sensitive period. The sudden appearance of a Magnet Release–like technique would cause an uproar capable of overturning the entire village.
So he acted decisively.
However, the moment Shiraishi stepped out of Quicksand Ravine—
A figure blocked his path.
"For a genin," the man said calmly, "your performance was impressive. Killing those two pieces of trash so cleanly."
Without a word of reply, Shiraishi drew his silver blade.
Iaijutsu—draw and strike.
The air screamed as the blade flashed straight toward the intruder.
This was likely the source of the overwhelming chakra he had sensed earlier.
The pressure radiating from the man put Shiraishi into a full-body alarm state. His instincts screamed danger as he retreated step by step, while the man—Zi Ao—advanced leisurely, like a predator toying with prey.
"But I am curious," Zi Ao continued mildly.
"How exactly did you kill them?"
Chakra threads shot from his hands, snapping taut like steel wire, forming razor-sharp lines of death.
They were chakra threads—but imbued with something else.
Shiraishi's eyes narrowed. His silver blade spun rapidly as his body rotated at high speed, unleashing a barrage of Whirlwind Blades.
Zi Ao's expression flickered with surprise.
His chakra threads lashed out, striking with uncanny precision, dispersing the wind pressure of the blades one by one.
Shiraishi felt it immediately.
The man was reading the wind.
This puppeteer possessed a form of sensory perception—likely airflow-based.
Under the scrutiny of Circular Eyes, Shiraishi continued retreating. The instant his foot landed on a specific spot, chakra threads spread outward like a spiderweb.
Boom—boom—boom!
Zi Ao's chakra threads detonated on contact, triggering chained explosions. Shiraishi reacted instantly, switching positions with Substitution Technique—
But the threads adjusted midair, tracking him relentlessly.
Just as they were about to strike—
Shiraishi released his telekinesis outward for the first time, binding it directly to his body.
His form lifted subtly.
Then—
He drifted with the wind.
…Floating?
Zi Ao's eyes gleamed.
This brat really does have tricks.
Could he be some clan heir? But I've never seen techniques like this.
As a sensory-type shinobi, Zi Ao was confident. Once he killed Shiraishi, dealing with the remaining Sunagakure genin would be trivial.
Moreover, Sunagakure's main forces were closing in.
To buy time, Zi Ao had already ordered his final subordinate to dismantle the base and relocate critical materials to another hideout.
He would personally end this fight.
The chakra threads snapped violently, compressing the air as countless steel-like strands lashed out, aiming to shred Shiraishi's head.
With telekinesis anchoring his feet to the ground, Shiraishi suddenly realized—
His telekinetic proficiency was still rising.
99.99%.
On the verge of突破.
As that realization settled, his rhythm stabilized. His responses became sharper, more precise.
He stopped retreating.
Instead, he surged forward.
With a single grab, the metallic particles scattered across the ground condensed once more, firing forward at terrifying speed—
Only for Zi Ao to shatter them with explosive chakra-thread strikes.
He blocked the attack.
But when Zi Ao saw the ground behind him—now riddled with countless perforations—his breath caught.
"…Magnet Release?" he asked sharply.
"What are you to the Third Kazekage?"
This was nothing like Rasa's Magnet Release, which relied on specially refined gold dust.
What Shiraishi displayed was pure, direct control over metallic particles.
As one of Sasori's agents, Zi Ao didn't know the full truth behind the Third Kazekage's death—but he was certain his master was deeply involved.
Now, a Magnet Release–wielding boy appeared.
A promising acquisition.
Zi Ao's brief distraction was all Shiraishi needed.
Iaijutsu—slash.
The silver blade severed the surrounding chakra-thread traps in a single arc. Shiraishi leapt from the ravine's edge and fled without a backward glance.
This opponent was clearly elite—even among chūnin—and possibly approaching jōnin-level.
Shiraishi knew he could not win head-on.
He released all weight restrictions.
High-Speed Movement—activated.
His figure blurred, racing across the desert at full speed.
He must not escape.
A Magnet Release–wielding child would be a masterpiece, Sasori-sama would adore.
As Shiraishi sprinted through the sands, his eyes burned with sharp resolve.
The moment Zi Ao spoke the words Magnet Release, Shiraishi understood—
He had miscalculated.
The effort to erase evidence had been nearly meaningless.
Now there was only one solution.
Kill him.
From Zi Ao's chakra-thread control and sensory techniques, it was clear he was not a close-combat specialist. His perception relied heavily on airflow.
Shiraishi's mind raced.
A chakra thread of a different hue formed in his hand as he subtly adjusted its motion, calculating a path to victory.
Telekinesis must reach 100%.
Only then could he fully externalize his mental force—true aerial evasion.
Beyond conventional weapons, he still possessed one unrevealed asset—
A purple card, unread until this moment.
An unread card meant one thing.
Unsealed terror.
Under the guidance of his chakra thread, the purple card cut a dazzling arc of violet light through the air.
I need to lure the puppeteer deeper… farther away.
The chase spilled into the open desert.
As Shiraishi began laying the groundwork for the decisive battle—
Zi Ao unsealed a scroll behind him.
With a sharp motion, he released his personal puppet.
The final clash had begun.
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