Hayano Keisuke was an extremely arrogant person. He made no attempt to hide his tracks at all.
Even Miwa Masayo could easily distinguish that there were five targets—one four-man squad, likely a special jōnin leading three genin, and another being the puppet master protected by that squad.
The four-man squad's composition was similar to the one Yoru had already wiped out. Dealing with them wouldn't be a problem.
But the puppet master was different.
The traces he left behind showed that his taijutsu was strong—at least at the level of a proper Sand Village jōnin. Combined with two different but clearly high-quality puppets, his combat power might be equivalent to three jōnin.
Truly worthy of being Ebizo's son.
Yet in Yoru's memory, Hayano Keisuke had never made a name for himself. Most likely, his luck was simply bad—he died in the war before he could gain fame.
Yoru sneered.
His luck really was bad. This time, he wouldn't even make it to the war.
He would die here.
The pursuit lasted an entire night.
In the darkest moment before dawn, Yoru and Masayo finally caught up with the Sand ninja. From a mountaintop, they could see the campfire burning on the opposite slope.
The Sand ninja had violated two fundamental ninja rules.
First—never light an open fire at night.
Second—never have more than two people gathered around a fire.
These rules might seem unreasonable, even inhumane. But every single one was written in blood.
With the fire illuminating them, even across the entire valley, once Yoru activated his Sharingan, he could gather plenty of information.
"The special jōnin in the four-man squad uses Wind Release. Among the three genin, one is a puppet user—but his puppet is just ordinary hardwood. Dirt poor."
"So that puppet user is weak, meow?"
"Yeah. Plain wood—easily burned. We can ignore him. But the other puppet master has three puppets… and all of them are imitations of the Monzaemon Chikamatsu Ten Puppets."
"High fidelity, top-grade materials. Not something money alone can buy. That's definitely Hayano Keisuke."
"Then who's the sixth ninja, meow?"
Another ninja had joined the Sand group.
He sat beside Hayano Keisuke, enjoying hot water, fresh fruit, and the service of the genin.
Clearly, his status was on par with Keisuke—at least a jōnin.
With this new arrival, the Sand team's strength increased by nearly a third.
A jōnin was a heavy weight on the battlefield—even a Kage had to take them seriously.
A thought of retreat quietly surfaced in Yoru's mind.
But the moment it appeared, it was burned away by his anger.
A jōnin's weight was significant—but not enough to change his decision.
It only made him more cautious in choosing his timing.
However, what Yoru waited for next was bad news.
As dawn fully broke, yet another Sand ninja joined the group.
He walked straight to Hayano Keisuke and the other jōnin, forming a three-man formation with them.
His posture, movements, and the way everyone obeyed him—
Yoru immediately judged that this was a veteran jōnin, superior to Keisuke in both experience and strength.
Yoru and Masayo's expressions grew heavy.
The target group now consisted of three jōnin and one special jōnin—far beyond their expectations.
They had no confidence in defeating four jōnin.
"What do we do, meow?" Masayo asked.
Yoru replied, "We follow them… and decide based on the situation."
Before a war officially began, missions rarely required more than five ninja.
Seven ninja gathering together was already abnormal.
And with no large-scale casualties among genin or chūnin, three jōnin forming a team was even more unlikely.
Yoru judged that this was only a temporary meeting.
Soon, they would split up and carry out their respective missions.
A powerful puppet master like Hayano Keisuke would perform better alone.
Yoru was right.
After a simple breakfast, the four-man squad left first, heading south in a search formation.
After a while, one jōnin left alone, heading north at high speed.
Only Hayano Keisuke and the later-arriving jōnin remained by the fire.
Even though Keisuke wasn't alone, Yoru was already satisfied.
"The opportunity's here," he said with a smile. "Once they're far enough away, we move."
"Masayo, you hold off the other jōnin. I'll kill Hayano Keisuke first, then we team up and finish your opponent."
"No problem, meow."
Just as they were preparing to act—
A sharp cry suddenly echoed from the sky.
It was a swift hawk.
The two Sand ninja immediately stood up.
After the hawk left, the higher-ranking jōnin didn't hesitate. He fired three signal flares, bursting into red, white, and black smoke in the sky.
Yoru immediately recognized them as Sand Village emergency signals.
But such signals were like passwords—temporary and time-limited. Outsiders couldn't know their exact meaning.
This time, however, it didn't take long for him to understand.
It was a recall signal.
All Sand ninja began returning at full speed.
Even a new three-man squad appeared—a chūnin leading two genin.
The situation flipped completely.
Yoru's mentality nearly snapped.
He even cursed under his breath.
"Puppet master Hayano Keisuke, two jōnin, one special jōnin, one chūnin, five genin…"
He realized his mouth had gone dry. Taking a sip from his water flask, he said hoarsely:
"I don't know if I can swallow this."
Masayo could hear both his worry—
And his determination.
"You're really going to fight?"
Yoru answered without hesitation:
"Fight. We must fight."
Even though Masayo had already sensed his resolve, hearing it confirmed still shocked her.
The addition of just one squad had pushed the enemy force past a critical threshold.
Ten ninja.
That was an overwhelming numerical advantage.
And with four jōnin among them, they also had the advantage in quality.
From Masayo's perspective—
This was the moment to retreat.
But Yoru refused.
"We've chased them this far. Whether we can win is one thing—but if we don't even try and just leave, my heart will revolt."
In truth, it wasn't just about inner demons.
More importantly—
There was a faint voice inside him, shouting:
Victory.
From the moment he began absorbing natural energy, trusting his instincts and bodily sensations had always led to success.
And now, for the first time—
Yoru chose to abandon his cautious philosophy.
To initiate a battle without ninety percent certainty.
This time, his chance of victory might only be fifty percent.
Too low.
Far too low.
"The odds are too low. Even if we win, I won't be able to wipe them all out."
"I need to disguise myself. They can't see my face."
Yoru handed all identity-related items to Masayo.
Then he used natural energy to distort his facial muscles, reshaping his face into that of a square-faced man. He inserted black lenses into his eyes.
That was just the first layer.
He then put on a black mask—like Kakashi's—and goggles similar to Obito's.
Finally, after a moment's thought, he took out three more masks and carefully layered them over the goggles.
Only then—
Did he feel at ease.
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