"It seems you've really put your heart into this these past few years."
Minato Namikaze's eyes gradually sharpened with deadly intent. With a swift whoosh, two kunai appeared in his hands as he carefully observed the unique puppet before him, his mind racing to find its weakness.
"Heh, just the usual," Sasori chuckled from inside the puppet.
Minato had hit the nail on the head. Over these years, driven by the burning shame of his past defeat, Sasori had thrown himself into his work with obsessive fervor. For long stretches, he'd been in a state of complete madness.
That's how true artists and scientists are—without madness, there's no mastery.
Chakra threads had always been the shackles of puppet jutsu. For hundreds of years, that's just how it was. Only puppets controlled by chakra threads had "life," had vitality. Without chakra threads, a puppet was nothing but scrap metal.
But how could one break free from these shackles?
Sasori locked himself in his workshop, wracking his brains for answers.
But inspiration wouldn't come.
Maybe I should ask my godfather. He always has solutions.
Though Jinghang wasn't a puppeteer himself, he was the visionary who led the revolution in puppet materials and automation. Thanks to him, Sunagakure's puppet arts flourished with countless disciples. In their ancestral shrine, two memorial tablets held places of honor: at the top sat the founder Monzaemon, and just below him, Jinghang. Despite Jinghang's repeated protests that offering tablets to living people brought bad luck, the puppet masters stubbornly refused to change their ways. Finally, Jinghang convinced Chiyo, the most senior puppeteer, to reluctantly remove his tablet.
But she left him with a warning: "When your time comes, that tablet's going right back up." Jinghang could only shake his head in exasperation.
When Sasori found Jinghang, the man was at Sunagakure's theater, watching a show with his son—little Jingyan's favorite puppet show, "Little Monster Benben" (something like Teletubbies).
"Godfather, I—"
Sasori barely got the words out before little Jingyan interrupted with grave seriousness.
"Sasori-nii, shhh..."
He gestured for silence, then focused intently on the stage.
Jinghang shrugged helplessly at Sasori. Work kept him busy, and he rarely had time alone with his son, so he mouthed an apologetic "Let's talk after the show."
Sasori had no choice but to sit and endure it.
Children's puppet shows for ages two to five were naturally childish and boring. At first, Sasori just watched half-heartedly.
But as he watched, a different thought struck him. Wait—aren't these puppets exactly what I've been searching for? Puppets without chakra threads!
What if he turned the puppet into armor, like a costume suit, controlled from inside with chakra threads and mechanical systems? Then he'd never have to worry about his threads being cut again.
Inspired, Sasori rushed back to the Akasuna Research Institute's lab to sketch blueprints. After three years of dedicated research, he created this puppet battle armor—Kongō.
He'd inadvertently sparked puppetry's third revolution—the mecha revolution!
"I heard you've mastered the Flying Thunder God Technique. How about we test it out?" Sasori taunted.
"Bring it on!"
Suddenly, Minato vanished completely, reappearing behind the Kongō puppet. He thrust his kunai toward a gap at the back of its head—what looked like a vulnerable spot.
But the sharp kunai couldn't penetrate even a fraction!
At that moment, Kongō's massive head suddenly split into three—one crimson red, one deathly pale—each facing different directions, creating a 360-degree field of vision with no blind spots.
Clank, clank, clank. The sound of mechanical gears turning.
Kongō's body transformed as well. Its two thick arms split into six. Besides a pair of steel whips, it wielded a sword, blade, mace, and chain—four different weapons. In an instant, it bristled with deadly intent, all claws and fangs. Minato swallowed hard.
Damn! Three heads and six arms!
This thing's out for blood.
Before Minato could react, a flurry of blades came slashing toward him.
Two fists can't beat six arms. Minato had no choice but to teleport back to his previous position.
But before he could steady himself, Kongō's three heads rotated, and the white face opened its mouth, spitting a barrage of needles at him.
Minato reacted lightning-fast, deflecting with his kunai while rapidly teleporting away.
Kongō showed no hesitation, launching needles while simultaneously attacking with its weapons.
This thing's massive and must weigh a ton—how is it moving so fast?!
Minato was completely baffled.
Doesn't matter. Every puppet has a weakness.
"Hiraishin: Guiding Thunder!"
Minato slammed his palm to the ground, scattering countless jutsu formula marks in all directions.
He vanished again, appearing here and there in rapid succession. In moments, Minato's figure was everywhere—striking at Kongō from all angles.
But Kongō stood unmoved like a mountain. Its three heads spun continuously while six arms blocked high and low, creating an impenetrable defense that didn't leak a drop. It even counterattacked at perfect moments. If not for Minato's speed, he'd already be full of holes.
How does he not get dizzy spinning like that?
Minato was full of questions.
Inside the Kongō puppet, Sasori lounged comfortably, watching three display screens.
"Keep flying around. Take your time—I'm not in any rush."
Suddenly, Minato leaped high, hurling a kunai at Kongō's head.
Kongō swung its steel whip, batting the kunai away. The red face turned upward and spat a blast of flames.
Just as the fire was about to engulf Minato, he vanished once more.
The next moment, he appeared on top of the deflected kunai.
Minato spun 180 degrees in midair, his body spread like a great bird. His left kunai blocked Kongō's sword while his right hand held a glowing... Rasengan!
"What?!"
Inside the puppet, Sasori's face went pale with shock.
Before he could react, the Rasengan slammed into Kongō's chest.
The high-speed rotation sent the massive Kongō spinning and flying backward.
Minato landed gracefully, breathing hard.
Kongō had been blasted over ten meters away, carving a deep furrow in the ground.
That should finish you!
But before long, Kongō struggled to its feet, clutching its chest with obvious pain.
"You actually stole my godfather's jutsu!" Sasori shouted accusingly.
Minato was amazed that Sasori could still stand.
"Lord Kazekage's technique is already famous throughout the ninja world. Countless people have tried desperately to master it but failed. It took me three years of hard training to—"
"Too bad," Sasori cut off Minato's boasting mercilessly.
"You only learned the form, not the essence. If my godfather had used this move, there'd be a crater here by now."
Kongō released its grip on its chest.
The chest plate showed a clear spherical dent.
And that was all.
What the hell is this thing made of?! How is it so damn tough?!
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
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