Lock's plan had worked—almost perfectly.
The smokescreen had disrupted the Kazekage's magnetic sense, the paralysis technique from the Soul Cleansing Blade had slowed him, and their combined assault with Scorpion had seemed flawless.
"Even a Kazekage shouldn't be able to withstand that," Lock muttered, a faint grin forming—
"Pfft!"
The grin froze. A spear of black iron sand burst from the ground beneath him, piercing straight through his abdomen before he could even react.
Pain exploded through his body.
He looked down in disbelief as the spear lifted him off the ground, the blood dripping into the sand below.
And in that instant, the "Kazekage" they had just struck turned into nothing but crumbling iron sand.
"An iron sand clone…?"
Realization hit him like a hammer. The real Kazekage had never taken the blow — he'd hidden underground, baiting Lock with a perfect decoy.
And worse, Lock himself had created the opening. He'd forced the Kazekage underground earlier, unknowingly giving him the perfect position to counterattack.
"Your tricks are troublesome," the Third Kazekage said coldly, raising the iron spear with one hand. "But slippery prey must be pinned down somehow."
Lock's body was paralyzed. The iron sand that pierced him wasn't just metal — it carried a magnetic chakra that disrupted his nervous system. No matter how he strained, his limbs refused to move.
He'd been careless — fatally so.
He thought he'd been cautious, but compared to a true Kage, his caution was nothing. A single mistake, a moment of satisfaction, and now he was paying the price.
Inwardly, Lock seethed. He had underestimated the veterans of this world — shinobi who had survived wars and ruled villages.
Never again.
If he lived through this, he swore he'd never let pride dull his edge again.
The Kazekage released the spear, leaving Lock suspended in the air. Iron sand coiled around his body like living chains, binding him completely.
"Now," the Kazekage said, turning toward Scorpion, "you're the only one left."
Scorpion smirked coldly. "Do you think I needed his help? You just saved me the trouble of killing him myself once you were done."
Lock's jaw clenched. This bastard… he'd turn on me that easily?
He tried to gather chakra, but the magnetic field distorted it. Every attempt felt like pushing through iron. The Kazekage's chakra overwhelmed his own, nullifying his control.
Still, he refused to give in. The bleeding had slowed — his body was already trying to heal itself through sheer will and refined chakra control. Years of battle had tempered him to recover faster than most.
It wasn't regeneration — it was grit, discipline, and finely tuned chakra flow keeping him alive.
He gritted his teeth. As long as I'm breathing, I'm not out of this fight.
The clash between Scorpion and the Kazekage intensified once more. With a sweep of his hands, Scorpion summoned ten more puppets, their chakra threads flaring crimson in the dim light.
The barrier of iron sand shook with every explosion of force as the two geniuses collided.
Then Scorpion snapped. His voice rose, sharp and unrestrained.
"Let's see how you handle this, old man!"
Dozens of hidden weapons burst from his puppets — blades, needles, spikes — scattering like a deadly rainstorm.
The Kazekage sneered. "Out of tricks already, Scorpion? Even if they're non-magnetic, you think that will save you?"
He raised a wall of iron sand effortlessly. Weapons clattered and sparked against it, deflecting harmlessly.
Lock watched helplessly from the side, still pinned by the magnetic grip.
Then — pain again.
Several stray projectiles missed the Kazekage entirely and slammed into Lock's immobilized body. One grazed his cheek; others struck his shoulder and side.
He hissed between clenched teeth. "Tch… are you kidding me?"
Scorpion didn't even glance his way, too locked in combat to care.
The wounds weren't deep, but they stung — a sharp reminder of how powerless he was right now. Still, the bleeding slowed quickly. His chakra worked to seal the injuries, the same discipline that had kept him alive through countless missions.
He might be bound, pierced, and outmatched — but Lock wasn't finished yet.
Somewhere beneath the pain, his mind was already working on the next move.
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