Following Nara Meika was always easy. She had a way of arranging everything perfectly, leaving nothing to chance.
The pursuit of the caravan went smoothly—too smoothly. The convoy never once noticed Yako and his team shadowing them.
Nara Meika occasionally glanced down, her expression growing heavier by the minute.
"This direction… it's toward Sabaku Port."
"Sabaku Port?" Yako frowned. "Wasn't that place destroyed? What would puppet materials be doing there?"
After a brief silence, Meika replied, her tone deep with thought.
"We won a major victory at Sabaku Port not long ago. I heard the Daimyō of the Land of Wind was furious—the Sand shinobi failed to protect over twenty of his ships.
With the port in ruins, Konoha will have relaxed its vigilance in that direction.
If the Sand move by sea from Sabaku Port, then travel upstream through the rivers of the Land of Rivers… that would be an almost perfect infiltration route.
A frontal diversion, with an elite strike from behind—Konoha could face a disastrous defeat.
Of course, this is still speculation. We'll need to observe for at least another day to confirm it."
That night, Yako raised his spyglass and spotted a long, uneven procession far in the distance.
The line stretched endlessly across the desert. Most carried long, white bundles on their backs—like mummies wrapped in cloth.
Inside those white wrappings were puppets.
Some puppet masters even had several moving beside them, like silent companions.
Their joints bent too naturally, too humanly, and yet… not human at all. The sight crawled with the same uncanny dread as watching corpses walk.
After silently counting hundreds of shadows, Nara Meika whispered, "Roughly two hundred puppet masters, advancing toward Sabaku Port.
The leader is Tosatsu, the son of Elder Chiyo of Sunagakure—a jonin of the elite class."
Chiyo's son… Scorpion's father, Yako thought grimly. So their deaths are near.
He looked up. The moon was growing round. Almost full, he realized. So he'll die under a full moon?
He smiled faintly. No need for puppet techniques this time.
"Withdraw," he ordered. "We've gathered enough intel."
The team retreated swiftly through the dunes.
When they were far from the Sand puppeteers, Yako lifted his head to the bright night sky. The moon was brilliant—only a day or two from being full.
As they trudged through the sand, he spoke again. "Meika-senpai, you seem very familiar with puppet techniques."
"I studied their intel carefully before entering the Land of Rivers battlefield," she said.
"Then tell me, Meika-senpai," Yako asked casually, "have you ever heard of a Shadow Puppet Technique?"
He spoke lightly, but his eyes stayed fixed on her face.
Hatake Sakumo wouldn't let Chota's death go unanswered. Yako needed to know if she was involved.
Meika kept walking, her gaze flickering only slightly before she answered, "Never heard of it. Perhaps it's some new intel ANBU collected about the Sand's puppet corps."
She tried to turn her head—but suddenly realized she couldn't move.
Black markings had spread across her body, crawling from the sand without a sound.
Yako stood still, fingers forming a brief signal to White Ram in the distance—ordering him and the others to stay back and keep watch.
They retreated instantly.
White Ram thought grimly, So ANBU really did come to execute Nara Meika.
They're a black-ops assassination unit—when do they ever come to "rescue" anyone?
No, this makes sense.
But that sealing technique… I've never seen it before.
Yako didn't care if the Self-Binding Curse Mark was exposed—he planned to "die once" and claim the system's reward anyway. Holding a kunai, he approached Meika.
"Recently, there've been several accidental deaths among front-line shinobi.
Each time, only one person from the squad survived—and every single survivor happened to be from the Nara clan.
Meika-senpai, as a top Nara kunoichi and an expert in intel gathering, I'm sure you know more than I do.
I've dismissed my team. It's just the two of us here now. So—let's speak frankly."
He studied her carefully. No cold sweat. No panic. She didn't even try to resist the seal. Her eyes were steady—then she spoke.
"So ANBU is investigating the mysterious deaths among the Nara shinobi.
But how is it that you possess such a refined sealing technique?
If I'm not mistaken, this is the Self-Binding Curse Mark, a secret art of the Uzumaki clan, extinct save for a few survivors.
Only elite Senju and Princess Kushina herself can use this seal.
So tell me—who do you really serve?"
Yako grimaced. He'd expected her to be sharp, but not this sharp.
"My affairs aren't your concern, Meika-senpai," he said coolly. "Let's talk about you.
You were forced into the Land of Wind, yet still chose to stay in a comfortable inn.
I was hoping to keep this civil, but if necessary, I have other methods of extracting truth—and they're far less elegant."
Her expression hardened.
"You'd use torture on a fellow Konoha jōnin?" she shot back. "That's far beyond what's warranted for an internal inquiry. What's your real objective?"
Yako scratched his head. Talking to smart women is such a pain… who's interrogating who here?
"Listen, Nara Meika. My patience has limits," he said coldly. "You know I'm not joking.
The Nara clan's shadow techniques are your pride—but the stronger they are, the easier they are to lose control of.
ANBU discovered a faction among your people using their shadows to turn comrades into living puppets—to force them to fight to the death.
Ambition's fine, but extremity isn't.
Where's your conscience? Your morality? Your Will of Fire?
The fact I found you proves I already have enough evidence.
I'll give you five seconds to decide.
Will you help me purge the rot from your clan and redeem it—or resist to the end?"
Her eyes dimmed with sorrow.
"So you already know that much… then there's no need to pretend.
Yes, we know about it. I was the one leading the internal investigation—but we kept it secret, fearing scandal.
If ANBU's traced it to me, your probe must have gone very deep.
Fine. I'll cooperate. Come closer—I'll whisper it. No need for the others to hear."
Yako stepped forward cautiously.
"There's a small faction," she said quietly. "Five members.
They believe success—personal or mission-related—justifies any means.
They delved too far into the shadow arts, developing a forbidden way to control teammates like puppets."
"Who are they?" Yako asked.
She listed five names.
Among them, Nara Mi. She wasn't lying.
"I have a scroll with my investigation notes," she said softly. "I can show you."
So that's why Nara Shikakaku requested ANBU's help, Yako realized. They knew Meika already had a report scroll and feared exposure.
"Where's the scroll? I'll get it myself."
"It's not in my tool pouch," she said. "It's sealed… under my left thigh, beneath my skirt."
Yako blinked, remembering Yuka Uzumaki, who'd hidden her Adamantine Sealing Chains scroll in the same place.
Do all women hide scrolls like that? Is it supposed to be discreet?
He lifted her skirt slightly and reached under it—his fingers brushed a scroll.
Then froze.
His hand wouldn't move.
The shadows beneath the skirt coiled like snakes, binding his wrist—then his entire body.
Shadow mechanisms! Her trap had been hidden in the very darkness under her skirt!
Neither of them could move now.
Meika's eyes shimmered with quiet guilt.
"I can't betray my clan… and I won't betray the village either.
So I'll die with you. No one will ever know our clan's shame. Let my death… atone for it."
The shadows slithered up Yako's neck—and pierced his throat.
As his life ebbed, he thought faintly, Got plenty of intel… worth it.
Then—
Two puppets burst from beneath the ground.
Sand shinobi had caught up.
Their blades speared through Meika's chest.
Both fell together, lifeless in the desert night.
[System detected host death. Activating Arc of the Waning Moon...]