The combination of the Flying Thunder God and the Multiple Shadow Clone Technique truly was greater than the sum of its parts. Jiraiya wasn't wrong — his eye for potential was as sharp as ever.
Lock understood that. He even agreed with it.
But understanding wasn't the same as obedience.
He respected Jiraiya's reasoning — the Flying Thunder God was legendary for a reason. The Fourth Hokage had carved his name into the world with that single technique. Space–time ninjutsu could turn any battlefield into a slaughterhouse.
But Lock also knew his own limits better than anyone.
Jiraiya assumed his flashing movement ability came from natural affinity — a hint of talent for time–space manipulation. It was a logical guess. In truth, it wasn't that at all. His "flash" was an augmentation, a tool — something external that mimicked teleportation. It wasn't true mastery over space.
The Flying Thunder God was beyond imitation. Without innate spatial aptitude, it was almost impossible to learn. Even in all of shinobi history, only Tobirama Senju and Minato Namikaze had ever perfected it.
Lock had no illusions about joining that list.
He already had his own methods of instantaneous movement — both through skill and equipment — more than enough for infiltration and escape. What he lacked wasn't mobility.
It was lethality.
As for the Multiple Shadow Clone Technique — he'd tested it before. It was an enhanced version of the standard clone technique he already used. Useful, yes, but still lacking killing power. He could make a few clones already, and that was usually enough.
People often imagined that the technique was a shortcut to infinite training. Lock had tried that too — splitting himself into several clones to train chakra. The results were disappointing. Clones could refine chakra, but not more efficiently than the main body. Worse, when they dispelled, the feedback of fatigue and memory nearly crushed his mind. Without immense spiritual fortitude, that recoil could break someone entirely.
Using hundreds of clones the way Naruto Uzumaki did later — that required a very specific kind of person.
Massive chakra, unshakable will, and a simple mind resilient to pain.
Lock was none of those.
And more importantly, his clones couldn't use his specialized gear or techniques. They were ordinary copies, stripped of what made him dangerous. Their tactical value was limited.
"Teacher Jiraiya," Lock said at last, "everything you said makes sense. But I know my own abilities best. The Flying Thunder God is powerful, and the Shadow Clone technique is efficient — but neither fills the gaps I have."
He met Jiraiya's eyes. "The Eight Gates and the Mutually Multiplying Explosive Tags do."
Jiraiya frowned. "You're really doubling down on this, huh?"
Lock nodded. "My regeneration is strong. The Eight Gates suit me — I can push my body further than most and still recover. As for the Explosive Tag technique — I have ways to escape the blast unharmed."
He wasn't exaggerating. With his unique mobility, he could mark a target, deploy the first tag, and teleport clear before detonation. The chain reaction would consume everything in the blast radius — but not him.
And as for the Eight Gates…
He had contingencies. Recovery resources back in the village — ways to mend damage that would kill an ordinary shinobi. To him, the Gates weren't suicide.
They were insurance — power he could call upon in extremity.
Their so-called "fatal drawbacks" were, for him, manageable variables.
For the first time in a long while, Jiraiya had no comeback. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "You're a stubborn one."
He'd known Lock for seven years. Once the boy made up his mind, no one — not even the Hokage — could change it.
"Alright," Jiraiya said finally, producing a sealed scroll. "Here. The full instructions — hand seals, chakra flow, limitations. Study them well. But don't forget — forbidden techniques are forbidden for a reason."
Lock accepted the scroll and bowed slightly. "I'll remember."
"Good. Because I'm serious, kid — come back alive. That's an order."
The next morning, Lock stood ready to depart.
Jiraiya's tone was unusually cautious. "Listen, Lock. Prioritize your safety. Don't take unnecessary risks. You're too valuable to lose."
Lock smiled faintly. "Relax, sensei. I value my life more than anyone. No one's killing me easily."
"Confidence is fine. Just don't let it turn into arrogance," Jiraiya said, gripping his shoulder once before letting go. "Be careful out there."
"I will."
From the border of the Land of Fire, Lock planned his route.
To reach Iwagakure, he'd have to cross either the Land of Rain or the Land of Grass. After a moment's thought, he chose the latter. The Land of Rain was still under Hanzo's watch — a complication he didn't need right now.
Jiraiya had briefed him on what little intelligence they had. Details on Iwagakure were scarce — troop movements, fortifications, and even terrain were uncertain. But Lock didn't need precise maps. A general direction was enough.
Traveling through the Land of Grass, he encountered a few patrols from Kusagakure. Their uniforms were tattered, their chakra weak — mostly chūnin, some barely that. He ignored them. They posed no threat, and he had no time for distractions.
Within a day, he crossed into the Land of Earth.
Here, his every movement became measured. He activated concealment, reducing his chakra signature to almost nothing.
This was enemy territory — one of the Five Great Nations. Even a small mistake could alert the sensory units stationed near the border.
He wasn't here to pick a fight.
Not yet.
Before he met with Iwagakure's envoys, he wanted to make a statement — a quiet but unmistakable one. He needed them to understand that negotiations with Konoha were not from a position of weakness.
If they were to meet him across a table, it would be after they'd seen what he could do
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