Amegakure Village.
In the darkness, grotesque shadows resembled demons released from hell, wildly spreading their power outward.
As lights flickered, several figures clearly appeared on the fingers of the colossal statue.
"Alright, this sealing mission ended perfectly!"
Pain lowered his hands, glancing coldly at the corpse of Roshi lying on the ground.
"Heh, that was exhausting. It's been a few days since I last offered prayers to His Holiness Lord Jashin. I hope he won't punish me for it!"
Hidan stood on one of the statue's fingers, his body composed of multicolored light twisting continuously, as if warming up his limbs.
"Calm down, everyone. We've all worked hard! Why don't we call it a day?"
White Zetsu spoke in a lighthearted tone.
The others exchanged glances, waiting for Pain to speak. After all, Pain was their leader, and only he had the authority to give orders here.
"Fine. Everyone has indeed worked hard these past few days. You can disperse now."
"As for follow-up missions, I'll have Zetsu deliver information to you later!"
Pain looked toward Kakuzu and Hidan while also noticing that Scorpion seemed unusually focused on the deceased Roshi.
"No problem!" Kakuzu and Hidan nodded. A flash of light shone briefly before severing their connection and vanishing from the spot.
"Scorpion?" Saitama turned toward Scorpion, realizing he hadn't disappeared yet.
"Keep Roshi's body for me. I want to try my hand at creating something new with it!"
Scorpion left those words behind before cutting off his connection as well, disappearing from atop the finger.
Pain remained silent. Originally, he had planned to use Roshi's body as material for another [Six Paths Puppet], but since Scorpion had claimed it, better to let him take it.
"In that case, I'm gonna hit the sack for a bit!" Saitama sprang down from the statue's finger and strode toward the exit.
"Come find me once you're rested. I need to talk with you!"
Pain watched Saitama's retreating back, his Rinnegan eyes glowing faintly with a pale bluish hue. His expression remained emotionless as ever.
Konan stood silently, motionless as ever.
She had matured greatly over the past few years, mastering the art of concealing her emotions. Except when with Nagato, she always wore an aloof, cold exterior.
"Well then, Leader, Konan, I'll be heading out first!"
Though White Zetsu had participated in the Tailed Beast sealing operation alongside the others, he didn't show any sign of fatigue whatsoever.
His body, composed of Hashirama's cells and other peculiar materials, had already become more like a monster.
"Hmm." Pain gave a slight nod while Konan remained silent.
With an uneasy chuckle, White Zetsu leapt off the statue's finger and melted into the earth below, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Konan, did you feel that?"
It had been quite some time since Zetsu left, and neither Pain nor Konan moved.
At Pain's words, Konan remained silent, her gaze fixed steadily on the colossal statue ahead.
Of the nine previously closed Tailed Beast eyes, one had now opened—its bloodshot pupil exuding a terrifying aura.
"We're drawing closer to Yahiko's dream. No matter what, I will see this through to the end!"
Pain narrowed his eyes slightly. He stretched his arms out to both sides of his body, slowly lifting them upward.
A suffocating presence slowly radiated from his body — a twisted, overwhelming force.
Konan stayed silent as well, clenching her fists beneath her sleeves. Her gaze burned with determination.
"Shikaku, what kind of ninjutsu do you think could cause such devastation?"
The Third's expression darkened, his aged body stiffening involuntarily as he furrowed his brows tightly.
"It's hard to describe... Perhaps only a large-scale ninja technique could achieve this!"
Shikaku rubbed his chin, looking slightly troubled.
Although he had witnessed many grand scenes before, he was still shaken by what lay before him now.
For hundreds of meters around, everything was rock formed from cooled magma, and right in the center was a crater dozens of meters wide.
"There's a village nearby. Since it's this close, they should know what happened here. Send someone to ask!"
The Third squatted on the ground, running his hand over the hardened lava.
"Understood!" Shikaku nodded and signaled several Anbu to carry out The Third's orders.
"This must be [Lava Release], right?" The Third scooped up a handful of cooled residue with his right hand and approached Shikaku.
"That's right!" Shikaku narrowed his eyes slightly and confirmed with a nod.
Nearby, nearly ten reconnaissance squads were collecting remaining items for further study back at the village.
"This scene reminds me of someone."
"You mean the person from Iwagakure, The Third?"
Shikaku had previously assisted Minato Namikaze on the Iwa front line, so naturally he had thoroughly studied the top-level ninjas of Iwagakure.
"But wasn't that person gone from the village long ago, without a trace?"
Frowning, Shikaku's mind flashed to the ninja mentioned by The Third.
"I've fought with Roshi before. He is the Four-Tails Jinchuriki, and his fighting style matches this place perfectly!"
"Across the entire shinobi world, those who can use [Lava Release] can be counted on one hand, and those whose combat methods match exactly this scene seem to be none other than Iwagakure's Roshi."
"That's correct. Investigate carefully; don't miss even the slightest clue! No matter why Roshi came here or whether it relates to Danzo, we must study this thoroughly!"
"Whoever managed to fight Roshi to such an extent should not be ordinary either. Search slowly through these ruins to see if we can find anyone matching our existing list!"
The Third turned and left, flashing his figure to the edge of the crater.
He spotted an area scorched pitch-black—completely unlike anything else around here.
Shikaku followed closely behind, stepping lightly to reach the spot.
"This is..."
"The mark left by [Lightning Release]. The chakra energy lingering in the air is also intense!"
The Third pressed his palm into the charred earth, scooped up a handful of blackened soil, and sniffed it closely.
"Do you remember that masked stranger from the night Kushina gave birth—the one who faced off against Minato?"
The Third raised his head to look at Shikaku.
"I remember... Is it the same person?" Shikaku's expression grew serious as he met The Third's gaze.
"Not sure yet, but those skilled in using [Lightning Release] like this are rarely seen!"
"Could it be someone from Kumogakure?" Shikaku asked cautiously, daring to speak so freely because only he and The Third were present.
"It doesn't resemble the combat style of Kumogakure, but we'll need to investigate thoroughly as well!"
Roshi is the Four-Tails Jinchuriki of Iwagakure, so if this were someone from Kumogakure, it would make sense!
"But I don't think it'll be that simple!"
The Third rose to his feet, and his shoulder armor clacked against his arm guard.
"Has anyone returned from questioning the village?"
Hiruzen frowned as he stared in that direction...
A lively establishment.
Jiraiya had his arms wrapped around two women who had been forced by poverty into difficult circumstances, his face flushed red.
"Ninja-sama, come on, have more sake!" A woman in a blue kimono—clearly at ease with Jiraiya—held out a cup, leaning close.
"Oh? I'm actually an author, not just some ninja!"
Jiraiya narrowed his eyes slightly, feigning mild annoyance. He dipped his head forward and inhaled deeply with a pleased expression before happily chugging down his sake.
"Yes yes yes, you're a great author!" Another woman beside him smiled apologetically, using her chopsticks to pick up side dishes and feed them into Jiraiya's mouth while hugging one of his thick arms and rubbing against it—was she feeling cold?
"Hmm..." Despite such temptation, Jiraiya kept his mind clear, gazing through the open window at a man across the street.
This man was his target, someone he'd followed for several days, suspected of collaborating with his former teammate—Orochimaru.
In recent years, Jiraiya had tirelessly hunted for any trace of Orochimaru, tracking his movements across the entire Shinobi World.
The closest encounter happened when he caught sight of Orochimaru's familiar silhouette from behind.
Jiraiya didn't want to give up on Orochimaru—he longed to confront him once again, face-to-face, to ask him directly about his thoughts.
After all those years together, could it really end like this?
It became something Jiraiya dedicated himself to, though he never abandoned his dream of becoming an author.
Recently, he had successfully published a book titled Make Out Paradise, which completely exploded within its genre.
Upon release, it immediately became a huge hit, with every bachelor in the Land of Fire considering it a masterpiece.
Its realistic illustrations, detailed layouts, and unforgettable golden lines ignited the hearts of otaku shinobi worldwide.
Not long ago, publishers even urged Jiraiya to hurry up and finish the second installment, aiming for the entire Shinobi World market this time.
With such financial backing, Jiraiya lived comfortably, enjoying life while chasing after Orochimaru.
"Mmm... Here's your tip! I've got something to take care of—I need to leave early, babes. See you next time!"
Jiraiya fished a thick wad of cash from his pocket, peeled off a few notes, and casually tossed them onto the table before rising to leave.
His target must've just gotten wind of something and took off in a hurry!
Inside a dim laboratory, a seemingly frail figure twisted about while working.
Behind him stood a door, a thin line of faint light slipping through the crack beneath it, stretching across his back.
Suddenly, knocking echoed, breaking the silence.
Clang! The sharp sound of metal striking metal caused that figure to stop working instantly.
As he turned, a cascade of glossy black hair spilled freely over his shoulders.
On his delicate, partially visible ears, a purple Tomoe earring shimmered with each subtle movement.
His long eyeliner stretched from the corners of his eyes all the way to his nose, making his striking face appear even more devilishly charming.
"Enter!" Orochimaru rasped, his voice unused for what felt like ages.
Yet this voice didn't sound dry at all—it was deeply magnetic, filled with a hypnotic power that seemed to echo through the air.
Creak! The man outside hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. As the door opened, light slowly spilled into the dimly lit laboratory.
The light first brushed across half of Orochimaru's form, then slowly spread until it bathed his whole figure.
His golden vertical pupils narrowed slightly, but Orochimaru wasn't bothered by the sudden light at all.
"My Lord... I've found what you needed..."
This man was the very same one Jiraiya had been tailing earlier. He now wore an expression of barely concealed fear, glancing nervously toward the operating table behind Orochimaru.
He was an insignificant pawn in Orochimaru's hands, yet his terror toward him ran even deeper—because he had seen too much of the snake sannin's erratic temper.
"Ah... perfect!"
Orochimaru turned around, picked up a cloth, and began wiping his hands.
The man at the door kept his head bowed, his throat bobbing repeatedly—he was still wrestling with the terror clawing at his chest.
"Wait outside for now. Return tomorrow with what's mine!"
Orochimaru waved a hand, dismissing him without a second glance—as carelessly as shooing away a stray animal.
"Yes, Lord Orochimaru!"
Creak.
Once again, darkness enveloped the room, with only Orochimaru's eyes reflecting faint gleams of light.
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