The midday sun was scorching hot. Sand particles cracked and popped in the high temperatures, as if the earth itself were being hammered by an invisible giant mallet. The air distorted into flowing waves, and the distant dunes seemed to melt and warp like wax figures.
But the people on the desert floor weren't concerned with wiping the sweat from their brows. They stared at the corpses of the black-clad assassins before them, feeling a chill run down their spines.
"They're dead. All of them."
"How many waves of assassins have we found now?"
These were the search and rescue teams that Sunagakure had hastily organized overnight. They were scouring the desert with nervous anticipation, fearing they would find the horrific sight of dead examinees. Instead, they kept finding groups of dead black-clad assassins.
"I know this man. He was a member of our Iwa Village's former Bombardment Squad, but he defected three years ago after disagreeing with the Tsuchikage's policies," the Iwa Village leader said with a grave expression.
"This man is a Jōnin from the Hōzuki Clan. I saw his picture on a wanted poster issued by the Mist Village," Minato said, pulling down one of the assassin's masks.
"What exactly is going on in your Sand Village? Why are so many assassins breaking into the Chunin Exams, only to die here mysteriously, and in different ways every time? Don't you dare tell me they were all taken out by the examinees!" the Iwa leader angrily demanded.
Rasa's expression was serious. It was entirely possible for Sasori's methods to kill these assassins, but judging from the wounds on the bodies, only the previous group of assassins died from puppet jutsu.
"That means there's at least one more 'Genin' here who is at the Elite Jōnin level." Rasa's eye twitched slightly. He thought he was being excessive, but it turned out the Leaf and Stone Villages were just as over the top as he was.
It's just the Chunin Exams. Does it really require this much effort?
"Forget about these dead bodies for now. The exam is still ongoing, and there might be more assassins lurking in the Demon Desert. We must find the participating children as quickly as possible," Rasa stated.
At the edge of the desert, Setsuna and the others spotted the Sand Village encampment in the distance.
"Haha! We finally made it out!"
"We're at the exit. Surely nothing else dangerous can happen now, right?"
Everyone was cheering happily. They didn't want to spend another moment in that desert.
At that moment, a Sand Village shinobi stepped forward to greet them. "This is incredible. You actually crossed the desert in just one day."
"That's all thanks to Setsuna-sama's help. Otherwise, we'd have died in there long ago," an Iwa shinobi said fearfully.
The Sand shinobi greeting them looked surprised. "You're not from Iwa..."
"I've gained a new perspective now. All the fighting and the exams are fake; only peace is real. We should pursue peace," the Iwa shinobi said, tilting his head back as if radiating a holy light.
The Sand shinobi was quite speechless. Are those really words a ninja should be saying?
If there's no fighting, how are we shinobi supposed to make money?
"Yes, you can only understand the preciousness of life after experiencing a brush with death," another one sighed.
"I've reached enlightenment," said another.
The shinobi from the other teams also expressed similar feelings. The ninja world truly wasn't suited for ordinary Genin like them.
"In any case, please sign in first." The Sand shinobi pulled out a roster and walked up to Setsuna.
Just as Setsuna picked up the pen to sign, the Sand shinobi suddenly pulled a specially made small kunai from beneath the roster and thrust it forward in an assassination attempt.
But Setsuna's reaction was faster than he anticipated. Setsuna held the pen in his right hand, while his left hand effortlessly grabbed the attacker's wrist. He grinned mockingly and asked, "Pulling the dagger out when the map is unrolled?"
The ninja opposite him naturally didn't understand the ancient saying, but his reaction was swift. The wrist Setsuna had grabbed suddenly transformed into a mass of black threads that coiled around Setsuna.
The iconic black threads allowed Setsuna to recognize the attacker immediately. "Kakuzu? You're certainly cautious, but not cautious enough."
Kakuzu sounded surprised. "You know me?"
"I heard you once challenged the First Hokage. You should have just thrown a shuriken from a distance, like you did when you challenged him, to complete your mission. Why risk your life?" Setsuna shook his head and sighed.
"Nonsense!" Kakuzu corrected angrily. "I was clearly defeated by his Wood Style Secret Jutsu! When did I ever throw a shuriken?"
"Oh, really? That's what everyone outside is saying. You can't blame them, though. That version sounds much more reasonable."
"Die!" Kakuzu roared. Suddenly, four black, thread-woven masked monsters burst out from under the sand, swallowing Setsuna whole.
"Ah! What the heck is happening now?"
"Is the nightmare still not over?"
Only then did the ninja teams who had been under Setsuna's protection realize what was happening.
"You bastard! Let go of Brother Setsuna!" Gai instantly activated the first three inner gates and charged toward the enemy.
"That level of Chakra is indeed astounding for a Genin," a hint of surprise flashed in Kakuzu's eyes.
Shizune raised her fist, leaped high, and punched down. The concentrated Chakra of her Monster Strength technique staggered the masked monsters.
"Monster Strength derived from the First Hokage, you say? It's certainly nostalgic," Kakuzu sighed softly.
"We need to help! If Setsuna-sama is killed, we'll definitely die too!" Iwate overcame his fear, formed the seals, and used an Earth Style Jutsu.
"It's time to repay our debt!" another Sand shinobi yelled.
Seeing this, Kakuzu was speechless.
Such a harmonious scene was far too out of place among shinobi. The way shinobi usually interacted should be through murder and betrayal.
"A pity. It's just a useless struggle."
Kakuzu's stitching threads hissed and slithered in the sandstorm like countless hungry black centipedes, effortlessly sending the small group flying.
After briefly dealing with the uprising of these small fry, Kakuzu finally turned his attention to his spoils.
"I'll be taking your heart." Kakuzu's eyes were burning with greed, his voice leaking from the cluster of Jiongu tentacles. Just as the Wind Mask began to glow, the figure in front of him suddenly blurred—
The black threads were ripped apart, and a figure closed in. The sheer physical explosiveness made the air pop like a cannon firing. Before Kakuzu's retina could even form a clear image, he was hit by a brutal uppercut to the jaw.
"Earth Style: Earth Spear!"
Kakuzu hardened his skin, but in the next instant, a sharp pain shot through him.
Kakuzu clearly heard the sound of his own jawbone shattering, his eyes filled with disbelief.
His Earth Style was strong enough to resist steel, and he could ignore the damage of Explosive Tags, yet he couldn't even withstand a single ordinary punch from his opponent.
"Cough—!" Kakuzu coughed up black blood. The Jiongu threads surged out wildly, attempting to coil around Setsuna's arm, but Setsuna completely ignored the threads wrapping around him, forcefully lifting Kakuzu's body and slamming him into the ground like a cracking whip.
"You're too arrogant," Kakuzu repaired his jaw with Jiongu and struggled to shout out a few broken syllables. The tentacles stabbed into Setsuna's body like steel needles, trying to drain his blood.
"Trying to suck my blood? Then go ahead and suck your fill." Setsuna smiled faintly, tapping various points on his body with his left hand a dozen times.
The next moment, Kakuzu spat out a huge mouthful of black blood, shattering one of his masks in the process.
"What's going on?" Kakuzu was utterly bewildered.
"Those are old internal injuries that have accumulated from my recent training. I'm truly grateful for your help in sharing the burden," Setsuna said with a laugh.
"It can... it can do that?!" Kakuzu nearly suffered internal injuries from sheer frustration. He had actually drained his opponent's injuries into himself.