The wood, surging with endless vitality, seemed to possess eternal life.
Massive trunks pierced the sky, and no matter how Chiyo's puppets hacked and slashed with their blades, the timber regenerated faster than it could be destroyed. Under the mystical enhancement of Sage Chakra, the forest possessed a supernatural resilience. Chiyo and Sakura's attacks were mitigated to the point of irrelevance.
The vines acted like a nest of sentient vipers, not only incredibly tough but possessing a terrifying ability: Chakra Absorption.
While Chiyo and Sakura were still reeling from their failed assault, slender branches struck like ghosts. They coiled with surgical precision, binding both women tightly against the towering trees. They were pinned, unable to twitch a finger.
Simultaneously, the vines acted like parasitic leeches, relentlessly draining their chakra. As their energy waned, a profound exhaustion washed over them, as if their very life force were being siphoned away. Chiyo, relying on her decades of combat experience and deep reserves, managed to maintain a sliver of consciousness.
Sakura wasn't so lucky. She was bound by the tentacle-like vines in a manner that could only be described as "artistic," reminiscent of the traditions of Japanese rope masters. The vines seemed to have a mind of their own, twisting her body into a compromising, agonizing position that stretched her joints to the limit. She could only stare in wide-eyed desperation.
The most pathetic sight was "Future" Sasori. His outer shell had been half-shattered in the previous struggle, leaving his core exposed and his puppet frame looking wretched. To make matters worse, white spores began to crawl over him like a tide, suppressing his regenerative capabilities and preventing him from repairing his damaged joints.
Chiyo and Sakura looked at the sea of green in disbelief. Moments ago, this was a barren rock cavern; now, it was a dreamlike, terrifying forest.
"Yo. Everyone doing okay?"
A playful voice broke the suffocating silence. Chiyo and Sakura looked up to see a white-haired man leaping lightly from a high branch. He had a diamond-shaped mark on his forehead—a mark that looked strangely familiar to Sakura, though she couldn't quite place it.
Before they could ask his identity, another familiar voice rang out: "You told me to be calm, then you go and do something this reckless!"
The "Original" Sasori emerged from the earth, looking at his future self with a mix of shock and suspicion. Is this a joke? How can someone look so much like me?
Sakura felt a surge of pure despair. One Sasori was a nightmare. How is there another? This is getting worse by the second.
The stoic Chiyo was frozen. She was looking at a living, breathing version of her grandson from his youth—same face, same arrogant temperament.
The Original Sasori was visibly annoyed. If he weren't currently outmatched by Hiruko, he would have lunged forward to tear that annoying smirk off the man's face. Hiruko was his natural nemesis, always finding a way to get under his skin.
"Didn't you say you hated waiting?" Hiruko chuckled, slinging an arm around Sasori's neck with a bright smile.
"Whatever. We're done here," Sasori muttered, turning his head away and ignoring him.
Watching the two interact with such casual intimacy made the others—especially Chiyo—look as though they had seen a ghost. Her rebellious, "dead" grandson was acting chummy with a total stranger. Chiyo had raised Sasori, led him to the path of the puppeteer, and held high hopes for him. While she couldn't understand his "art," she knew him to be solitary and cold. This level of closeness was unthinkable.
"Sasori, you handle Chiyo and your future self. I'll leave them to you," Hiruko said magnanimously, stepping back.
He had already expressed interest in Sasori's puppet mastery and Chiyo's resurrection techniques. He knew Sasori was smart; until the boy could truly suppress him, he would be "sensible" and refrain from killing the two valuable research subjects. This way, Hiruko could watch the "Grandmother vs. Grandson" drama from the sidelines and reap the technical rewards.
The silent "Future" Sasori watched them, his brow furrowed as confusion flooded his mind. Does this boy come from the past?
The Original Sasori sensed his future self's thoughts. He turned his gaze toward Sakura, his eyes as cold as winter blades. To him, this Leaf brat had a weak mental state, but her performance in the battle proved she was excellent "material." He mused that if he turned her into a human puppet, her psychological flaws would be irrelevant—she'd be a masterpiece.
Hiruko smiled, a strange glint in his eye. "You can't have this one."
"Don't push it!" Sasori's voice rose an octave. "You promised me I could hunt the Leaf ninjas of the parallel worlds freely..."
"No, no. My exact words were that the Leaf ninjas of our world are off-limits. I never gave you a blank check for others. And if you do hunt, pick someone unimportant. Don't mess up the big picture."
Sensing Sasori's mounting fury, Hiruko's tone became indisputable: "Besides, I saw her first. She's my prey. No one takes what's mine."
THUD. Sasori punched a nearby tree trunk, his face expressionless. Fine. I can't beat you anyway. Interpret it however you want.
"Anyway," Hiruko added, "this girl has no powerful bloodline. Even if you made her a puppet, it would be mediocre."
While she had potential as Tsunade's successor, turning her into a puppet that could fully utilize her skills would be a nightmare. It required deep knowledge of her life's work and a massive amount of chakra. Unless Sasori developed autonomous AI puppets, it was a waste of resources.
Hiruko offered this detailed internal monologue as "face" for his chief scientist. As he spoke, he casually reached out and ran a hand over Sakura's bound form.
"You bastard! Let me go!"
"No! Stop it!"
Sakura's rage flared as she felt his touch on her sensitive areas. She thrashed against the vines, wanting nothing more than to break free and pummel this lecherous stranger.
"Heh. You're my toy now. You should learn some manners," Hiruko said coldly, showing zero pity. To him, the people of this parallel world were just strangers—there were no bonds of friendship or loyalty. If he wanted a woman here, he would simply take her back to his collection.
"Sasuke!" Sakura screamed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. She called out for the one person she hoped could save her from this nightmare.
Hiruko, annoyed by the noise, delivered a swift chop to her neck. Sakura slumped, slipping into unconsciousness.
The Original Sasori watched the display with a judging eye. He didn't want to be underestimated by this lecher; he was a legend in the puppet world. Controlling a human puppet was a feat of supreme skill, requiring the user to provide all the chakra—they didn't have the infinite reserves of a Reanimated corpse. This was why he hadn't used the Iron Sand: World Order immediately with the Third Kazekage; it was simply too expensive.
Hiruko's point about "autonomous puppets" stuck in his mind. Could I actually develop that?
Sasori pulled a small vial from his belt and opened it. A cloud of sleeping gas drifted toward the elderly Chiyo. Before she could react, she succumbed to the fumes. He skillfully tucked her into a puppet frame, wove a series of signs, and sealed her life force and soul into a specialized box, which he then stored in a scroll.
He knew Chiyo's One's Own Life Resurrection was a testament to her love for him, but he wasn't interested in sentiment. Her technique could breathe life into puppets—the direct opposite of his path of killing to create. It was a fundamental clash of philosophies.
Hiruko, however, saw the potential in merging the two. Puppets with actual life that never decayed? That was true eternal beauty. Perhaps their combined research could lead to mass-producing beings like "2B" or the Rozen Maiden dolls.
"Sasori, you're a genius. Even if you hate the old hag, you should master her knowledge. It'll be useful one day," Hiruko remarked.
He didn't care if Sasori changed his mind, but he had his own selfish expectations. As a transmigrator, he knew there were different tiers of "worlds." Some went to battle-heavy shonen like Naruto, Bleach, or One Piece. Others went to obscure slice-of-life anime. He was stuck in a high-lethal world, but if Sasori's tech reached its peak, maybe he could build the "waifus" he remembered from his previous life. A gentle Ikaros or a cold Yukino... even as life-sized figures for his home, it would be worth it.
"Hmph. Obviously," Sasori replied with a cold pride.
Hiruko's lips curled into a smirk. With Chiyo and "Future" Sasori secured, he looked at his partner. "So, what's your next move?"
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