Malphegor
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HSU: Ch. 52
🕑 Added 2024-12-07 17:01:04 +0000 UTC"No need to thank me yet," Masashi waved his hand dismissively, ignoring the wary reaction his words triggered.
His Sharingan caught the slight tension in her shoulders as he voiced the question that had been bothering him for a while. "I'm just curious—how exactly did you get yourself caught like that?"
He genuinely couldn't understand it. Wasn't she supposed to be one of Suna's elites? How could she be taken down so easily?
Granted, elite fighters don't always fall in dramatic fashion, but this was just… too simple.
Pakura was momentarily stunned.
Her first instinct had been to assume Masashi had ulterior motives for saving her. Why would a Konoha ninja help her without wanting something in return?
But this question? That was what he wanted to ask?
"I was representing my village to negotiate a friendship treaty with Kiri," she explained.
She offered this critical piece of information because he had saved her, and she too harbored doubts about the situation. This was a matter of great importance, after all.
During the Third Great Ninja War, Suna had allied with Konoha to concentrate its forces on countering Iwa's invasion. However, alliances between villages were always tenuous at best.
The Third Raikage had died in an ambush orchestrated by Iwa, yet if the circumstances demanded it, Kumo wouldn't hesitate to ally with Iwa anyway.
Power shifted like desert sands in their world.
Even the life of a Kage was expendable in the grand scheme of things.
Despite the Fourth Raikage's seething hatred for the Third Tsuchikage, it hadn't escalated into outright war.
Pakura had always distanced herself from such village politics, preferring to remain uninvolved.
But in this instance, she'd been far too detached.
"Yeah, I figured as much." Masashi nodded. "I hypnotized a Kiri ninja earlier, and he said you were a bargaining chip for the alliance."
Pakura didn't respond. Her hands clenched briefly before relaxing. She wasn't naive. She'd understood the moment she was ambushed.
Her desire to stay above it all had ultimately left her isolated.
For a fleeting moment, she considered returning to her village to confront Rasa. But she quickly dismissed such a childish notion.
She understood him well enough. His sole focus was on revitalizing Suna, and to achieve that, he was determined to implement a strategy prioritizing elite forces.
This must have been the elders' decision.
After the Third Kazekage's death, the village had entered an era where the Kazekage shared decision-making power with the elders.
Whether Rasa had agreed to this particular decision no longer mattered.
"By the way, aren't you going to treat your wounds?" Masashi reminded her. "I wiped some of the blood earlier, but some spots are still bleeding."
He had removed the ten or so shuriken lodged in her body while repositioning her earlier. He'd treated her wounds as best as he could on the move, but his methods were temporary. Sure enough, the bleeding had resumed.
"Your poison is tricky. My antidote doesn't quite match up, so you'll have to handle it yourself."
After some thought, he added, "My suggestion? Let's team up for now. I've got a mission in this area, and two people working together can watch each other's backs."
Pakura, no fool, understood his underlying meaning. He wants something from me, but right now, I need him too.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Go rest in the tent and treat your wounds properly."
With that, he lay down on a pile of hay and began to rest.
Pakura was likely wrestling with complex emotions, but the more conflicted she felt, the better.
Kunoichi, generally proud and self-reliant, required a delicate approach. To handle them, one needed to be firm but not overly domineering, to show respect and concern. Most importantly, one had to subtly create an atmosphere of dependency.
Don't ask why.
It was just the right rhythm.
When the time was right, strike decisively.
When the moment felt natural, bold actions came off as earnest rather than pushy.
Building rapport between men and women—whether romantic or platonic—required avoiding obsequiousness. People instinctively despised sycophants. Mutual respect was essential for meaningful connections.
Reflecting on his past experiences, he felt a bit nostalgic. Smiling to himself, he turned over and drifted to sleep.
Behind him, Pakura watched for a long moment before quietly entering the tent.
Before long, the sounds of her moving around echoed from within.
On the haystack, Masashi smirked and finally rested in earnest.
He was confident that Pakura would eventually join the Police Force. No clan would turn down a chance to gain another bloodline user.
The night passed in silence, broken only by the crackling campfire.
---
The following morning, Masashi was fully prepared before dawn.
He wasn't someone who gave up easily. So what if Fuguki was dead? Kiri had plenty of other avenues he could exploit.
At the very least, Mei was a promising candidate.
Kiri's chaotic future was undoubtedly tied to its internal dissent against the Fourth Mizukage's policies, prompting Obito to eliminate his political enemies in the most brutal way.
But Masashi wasn't about to let anyone disrupt his carefully managed plans.
It was time to visit some old friends.
Behind him, the tent opened, and Pakura stepped out.
"How's your recovery?" Masashi turned to face her.
She seemed fine on the surface.
Chakra granted humans extraordinary capabilities. For ninjas, who excelled at harnessing this energy, even severe injuries could be swiftly mitigated. Unless it involved missing limbs or similarly grave damage, a strong jonin like Pakura could recover from superficial wounds in a single night.
"Don't worry. I'm fine. I won't slow you down."
"Good. Then let's head out."
"Where to?" Pakura asked, suspecting he was up to no good. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Back to Kiri, to meet some old friends."
"You realize that after what happened yesterday, the Kiri ninjas are likely hunting us. And you're on a secret mission, aren't you? Your contacts are compromised."
"Not compromised at all. He's dead. So, he can't betray me," Masashi corrected her. "And as for my old friends, we're on very good terms. They'll be thrilled to see me."
With that, he extended his hand. "Give me your hand."
Though confused, Pakura complied out of basic trust. She placed her hand on his.
In a flash, they vanished from the cave.
For Pakura, it felt like a momentary whirlwind. When she regained her bearings, she and Masashi stood on a hill.
Not far ahead on the plains, a group of Kiri ninjas was charging forward at full speed.
Kiri was in chaos. Many shinobi were moving about because the mission to kill Pakura had unexpectedly failed. Moreover, she had been rescued.
"Captain, over here!" a shinobi called out, kneeling beside one of the fallen.
The team sent on the mission found the bodies of their comrades. Preliminary analysis revealed that they had been instantaneously killed by a massive force while gathered together.
Only one corpse showed signs of a broken neck, likely from interrogation.
"Someone knew exactly how to kill them," the captain muttered, examining the precise nature of the wounds. "No wasted movement, no unnecessary damage."
The enemy was undoubtedly a top-tier shinobi, someone of jonin-level or higher.
Having such an individual infiltrate their homeland was something Kiri couldn't tolerate—they had to capture the perpetrator.
"We should deploy all available forces!"
"And leave our borders undefended? That's exactly what they want!"
This was just a jonin. Kiri had its own elite, after all.
However, the indecision in the Mizukage Tower was causing unrest among the notoriously irritable Kiri shinobi. The majority of those gathering were non-clan ninjas from the village, while the clans had other concerns.
Kiri's Bloody Mist policy was deeply unpopular among clan ninjas. The emphasis on an elite-focused strategy reduced the scale of their ninja forces, significantly increasing the danger for clan ninjas on the battlefield.
These clans observed the shifting dynamics of ninja clans across the continent. While clan shinobi excelled in solo combat due to their diverse abilities, their small numbers and the high cost of nurturing elite ninjas were significant drawbacks.
This was especially true for clans with bloodline limits. Awakening a bloodline limit was a challenging hurdle, and losing such users was a painful blow.
During the Second Mizukage's reign, the Hōzuki clan was Kiri's leading powerhouse. However, the First Great Ninja War devastated the clan, nearly wiping out a generation.
They were still recovering.
Now, the Hōzuki clan was merely on par with clans like the Yuki, who were once second-tier. The clans had not forgotten the lessons of the past, fueling their dissatisfaction.
In the Third Great Ninja War, bloodline clans felt even more embittered because of a certain Uchiha who could steal bloodline limit abilities. While he was only confirmed to have copied abilities involving fire, water, and wind, who knew if that was just the tip of the iceberg?
The latest infiltrator bore combat signs similar to this White Ghost. According to reports, he had even intercepted Konoha's rampaging Nine-Tails at his doorstep.
If true, this meant the White Ghost was now a bona fide Kage-level threat, even more dangerous than before.
Search missions? Let someone else handle it, was the prevailing thought among the clan members.
Meanwhile, resentment toward the Mizukage was growing. He had promised to abolish the policies of the Third Mizukage before taking office, but now it seemed those policies were intensifying.
The younger generation, however, was discussing other matters in secret.
---
In a hidden chamber beneath one of Kiri's abandoned buildings, moisture dripping from stalactites provided natural cover for conversations.
Two young individuals were meeting.
"Can you confirm it?" asked a young man with white hair tied in a vertical braid, a bandage around his neck, and sharp, shark-like teeth.
"No," replied a girl with long, wavy auburn hair, her eyes scanning the shadows. "But I hope it's him. The pattern matches. Fuguki was likely discovered and killed. What's your side saying?"
"Ah... Zabuza's getting nervous now. His faith is shaken." Despite his sharp teeth, Mangetsu's appearance was otherwise handsome. "Mei, you're not in love with the White Ghost, are you? Anyone shows up, and you assume it's him? Sure, he's strong, but he wouldn't come to the Land of Water alone, would he?"
"Stop joking, Mangetsu." Mei frowned, her fingers curling into a fist. "Just because he didn't steal the Hōzuki clan's Hydrification Technique last time doesn't mean he won't next time. Don't be careless."
"Even if he did, it wouldn't matter." Mangetsu smirked. "Our clan studied his techniques. He's more interested in abilities like yours. So, why did you call me here today?"
"The Mizukage Tower remains silent. I suspect Fuguki was right—something might have happened to the Fourth Mizukage."
"And if he's right? Are you planning to confront the Fourth Mizukage? With all due respect, I think you'd be killed on the spot."
"No. He is no longer trustworthy. We should continue Fuguki's strategy and send someone to contact Konoha."
"Konoha shinobi won't act in our interests. It'll turn us into the 'Village of Fools,' not the 'Village of the Bloody Mist.'"
Mangetsu shrugged. He didn't trust outsiders—hardly anyone in Kiri—except a few, Mei included.
"Anyway, what's your clan decided?" Mei asked.
"The old men believe it's the White Ghost and won't act."
"And you?"
"Hehe…" Mangetsu chuckled darkly. "I'll go, of course. Since when have I followed their orders? I'm taking Zabuza and Ameyuri with me."
"Then I'll join. If he's provoked too much, the White Ghost will start a massacre." Mei asked, "When do you leave?"
"Later. The old men are watching closely."
The two parted ways after making arrangements, melting into different shadows of the underground chamber.
---
While Kiri's factions were embroiled in chaos, the notorious Masashi, much maligned by the Kiri shinobi, was playing a game of cat and mouse with his pursuers.
His version of hide-and-seek was explosive.
"Maintain formation!" a squad leader shouted as shadows flickered through the mist. "Don't let him separate us!"
As a fire jutsu sent a group of Kiri shinobi fleeing in disarray, the inferno illuminating the mist in brilliant orange, Masashi reappeared elsewhere with Pakura in tow.
"I don't understand what you're doing," Pakura remarked, frowning as he released her hand. "This is just wasting chakra. What's the point?"
"It's fine," Masashi replied confidently. "I'll recover quickly. I'm just letting an old friend know I'm here."
Old friends—who were also old enemies.
He wasn't about to let Obito get too comfortable in Kiri. Even if Masashi couldn't completely derail his plans, he'd make sure to disrupt them.
"Your old friend is your enemy, isn't he?" Pakura said flatly. "I hope you know what you're doing."
"Relax. This is under control." Masashi grinned. "By the end, the Kiri shinobi will escort us out with a grand farewell."
