Chapter 52 – Two Faces
In his vision, the world turned a sinister shade of dark red.
Scenes of the future flickered through his mind like film.
So that's your attack path? How… uninspired.
In the real world, time seemed to thicken at this moment.
The poisoned blade was less than ten centimeters from Yahiko's nose; he could even smell the sickly-sweet reek of toxin.
Yahiko moved.
No—more precisely, the air behind him moved.
A hideous phantom only Stand users could see, its body latticed in red and white, tore out of Yahiko like a demon from Hell.
[King Crimson]!
In this world, Ninja are used to forming hand Seals, used to Chakra flow, used to Ninjutsu clashes.
They had never encountered such pure, brutal, unreasonable "laws of physics."
Scorpion's eyes merely blurred.
He didn't see any attack, yet the Chakra threads linking him to the Third Kazekage Puppet snapped as if cut by invisible shears.
Immediately after.
The torso of the "strongest Kazekage," specially tempered to endure most Ninjutsu bombardments, caved in at its center.
It was as though an unseen hydraulic press had smashed into its chest.
BOOM!!!
A grating metallic explosion echoed across the desert.
The Third Kazekage Puppet hadn't time to utter a sound; its entire upper body burst apart in an instant.
Gears flew, wood chips scattered.
That supposedly indestructible Puppet body, before King Crimson's power rated A, was as flimsy as matchstick scaffolding.
Bang!
Half a severed Puppet head rolled across the ground, clunking to a stop beside hiruko. Its empty sockets stared straight at Scorpion, as if mocking some absurd finale.
The whole world seemed to sink into deathly silence under the aftershock of that punch.
Scorpion stiffly lowered his gaze to the Third Kazekage's head at his feet—his perfect masterpiece, the "eternal art" he'd poured countless hours into crafting.
Now it was a heap of broken parts.
He couldn't even believe what had happened—why the Sandaime Puppet had become scrap the instant it neared this man.
H-How… is this possible…
For the first time, a tremor called fear quivered in Scorpion's hoarse voice.
Atop the dune.
He looked down at the Genius Puppeteer whose faith in himself had begun to crumble, as coldly as one might regard a failed ledger.
So this is your idea of 'strongest'?
Yahiko curled his lip, disappointment thick in his tone.
Hardness, resilience—both far below par. Maybe passable as 'art,' but as a weapon? Trash.
He raised a finger and crooked it at the prone hiruko, then uttered two quiet words:
Anything else to amuse me?
The so-called "strongest Kazekage" human Puppet now lay in chunks across the scorching sand.
The Chakra threads at Scorpion's fingertips had vanished; the Genius Puppeteer's mind went blank.
The red-haired man had merely stood there, yet his Puppet had shattered.
This… was the interview?
Looks like your 'strongest' isn't very durable.
Yahiko stated it as simple fact. If this is the pinnacle of Sunagakure's craft, I'm worried about Akatsuki's future armament quality.
That calm verdict felt like salt ground into Scorpion's pride.
Crack.
The prone hiruko let out a brittle groan. Its heavy carapace split; the black robe was shredded by wild Chakra.
A red-haired youth rose slowly from the broken shell.
He looked no older than fifteen or sixteen, his face almost girlish, but brown eyes blazed with hysterical fury—
The murderous intent of an artist whose work has been trampled.
You destroyed it…
Scorpion's voice lost its rasp, turning icy and venomous. That took three years and countless corpses to perfect… and you tossed it aside like garbage?
He drew a giant Seal scroll from his back, lips curving in a cracked smile. I'll turn you into my new human Puppet. Since you ruined the Third Kazekage, your body will replace it!
Boom!
Immense white smoke erupted above the desert.
The sky darkened.
Not from storm clouds—from Puppets.
Hundreds upon hundreds of red-robed Puppets blotted out the sun, hovering, each gripping poisoned blades or mechanisms like a plague of locusts.
Secret Scarlet Technique: Performance of a Hundred Puppets.
A single technique capable of toppling a nation.
Feel the pain—and become part of my eternal art!
Scorpion's fingers danced; the Regeneration Core in his chest blazed with Chakra as hundreds of threads linked him to the airborne army.
Konan glanced up at the sky-filling array, frowned, and the paper sheets around her began to whirl faster.
So this is the 'human-wave' tactic? For ordinary Ninja it would be a hopeless sight.
Yahiko sighed and slid a specially made Kunai from his sleeve.
Before true speed, numbers are just deadweight.
Arrogant!
Scorpion roared, hand slashing downward.
Hundreds of Puppets dived like a red waterfall, shrieking toward the pair on the dune.
Facing the apocalyptic charge, Yahiko stepped forward instead of back.
He was smiling.
Whoosh!
The Kunai vanished from his hand.
An orange flash sparked amid the red torrent.
No wasted motion.
Flying Thunder God Slash activated.
Yahiko's after-images zig-zagged through the air; each flicker sent Puppet heads spinning skyward.
It felt less like combat than harvesting wheat.
Scorpion's pupils shrank; his fingers danced frantically, trying to box in that orange light.
Poison clouds, hidden weapons, trap-nets—all struck empty air.
The man was an incorporeal ray, slipping through hundreds of Puppets at will.
Got you!
Scorpion's eyes sharpened; ten Puppets formed a wall where he predicted Yahiko would land, poison blades stabbing down.
Clang!
Metal rang.
Yahiko's form did pause—for 0.1 seconds.
He merely tilted his head and gave Scorpion, far across the field, a meaningful smile.
Where are you looking?
Bang!
All ten surrounding Puppets exploded, parts flying.
Amid the shower of wood, Yahiko caught a flicker of something odd.
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