Masashi sehe approag Kiri ninjas. None of them had chakra levels that matched Fuguki.

  These people weren't his mission goal, so he decided to observe them first. He cealed himself.

  In no time, a rge group of Kiri ninjas arrived at the location, radiating killing i.

  "Where is he?"

  "No one's here?"

  "Again, no one?"

  "The sensor reported movement here," one of the scouts called out, sing the area with narrowed eyes.

  "Spread out. Check everything," the leader anded.

  They're telegraphing their iions, Masashi thought as the group of Kiri ninjas practically turhe ground over in their search but found nothing.

  "Fet it, probably just an animal setting off the trap," muttered the team leader. He seemed to be in a hurry. "Be ready, our target will be here soon!"

  The Kiri ninjas' eyes gleamed sharply.

  "This time, we must kill that woman and avenge our fallen rades!" he decred vehemently, waving his hand to signal the group to move out.

  "What if she brings backup?" one of his subordinates asked.

  The captain's lips curved into a cruel smile. "She trusts us. Suna's guarantee e."

  But just a few mier, the same Kiri ninjas came back again.

  After another round of cheg with s, they finally rexed a bit a once more.

  Hidden ier, his teique perfectly masking his presence, Masashi couldn't evehered to mock them anymore. Their repeated searches were being almost ical.

  Kiri ninjas and their fir for drama...

  Oh well, might as well wait; they'd probably e baother one or two times.

  Sure enough, as he y cealed ier, he watched the group of Kiri ninjas ing and going, wasting a good amount of time. Their patterns were predictable, their movements betraying their inexperieh actual stealth operations.

  If he hadn't had more pressing matters to attend to, he would have taught them how to do it correctly.

  Finally, the Kiri ninjas were doh their antid rushed off in a specific dire.

  This time, it looked genuine. No more ag. Their chakra signatures had shifted from performative to focused i. Judging from their earlier words, it seemed they were in a hurry to deal with someone.

  Masashi emerged from the water, dispelling his teique. The dire the Kiri ninjas had gone was exactly where he had ehis area.

  There was a valley there.

  Using the Flying Thunder God, he disappeared from his spot.

  After a few relocations, he appeared at a high vantage point overlooking the valley. The terrain provided perfect sight lines while multiple escape routes if needed.

  It wasn't that he wao meddle, but Fuguki had previously been in tact with members of Root. Those meeting points always had persoationed, but the location he checked earlier was empty, with no signals left behind.

  This made him suspect that Fuguki might have already been eliminated.

  Croug on the cliff, he waited.

  Soon, the same group of Kiri ninjas arrived. The team leader signaled, and they hid themselves on both sides of the valley walls, their deployment speaking of careful preparation.

  Even Masashi's side wasn't spared, with some Kiri ninjas moving to hide nearby.

  Unfortunately for them, before they could issue any warning, he swiftly took them out

  One was left alive. Masashi grabbed him by the neck, activated his Sharingan, and hypnotized him.

  "Tell me what you know about Fuguki."

  "Dead... elimi month..." the ninja's voice was distant, trapped in the genjutsu.

  "And your current mission?"

  "Pakura... Suna's betrayal... agreement..."

  Under his trol, the Kiri ninja spilled everything.

  The first was bad news—Fuguki had indeed been elimi month Well, there went the mohis trip was a bust.

  But perhaps irely, as the sed piece of news was much more intriguing.

  The Kiri ninjas were preparing an ambush for an old enemy, Pakura of the Scorch Release.

  This art of an agreemeween Suna and Kiri. As for the details of the agreement, the Kiri ninja didn't know, only that Suna had sent Pakura over to be killed.

  Frowning, he she ninja's neck, pced the body aside, and began to think.

  His memory of Pakura was vague. He only recalled that she had beerayed by Suna's leadership for the sake of the vilge's is.

  It sounded absurd, but in the shinobi world, it was quite normal.

  In the era of nations with their own hidden vilges, ninja s with bloodline limits seemed cursed, targeted stantly, and their numbers dwindled faster than in the Warring States Period.

  The Uchiha , for example, was wiped out by Konoha's leadership in the inal timeline.

  And this wasn't uo Suna or Konoha.

  Kiri's s with bloodline limits would also be exterminated in waves, though Obito pyed a part in that. Even so, the Kiri ninjas seemed enthusiastic about the task.

  As for Pakura's Scorch Release, it wasn't a -based bloodline limit. It seemed she was the only one in Suna with this ability, making her a rare and valuable asset.

  What kind of be could possibly be so great that Suna would give up such a resource to Kiri?

  It was inprehensible.

  He decided to iigate. If it really akura, he'd simply rescue her. If Suna didn't wahe Police Force could use her. His members would respect his decision.

  Pakura wasn't weak, after all.

  And she wouldn't want to return to a vilge that had sold her out.

  Masashi repositioned himself on the cliff and activated his Sharingan, ready to observe.

  Not long after, someone approached from the other end of the valley.

  It was a woman dressed ig attire.

  Her most promi feature was her ample chest. Below, her long legs were sleek and well-shaped, her waist slim, and her hips curvy. Her hair color was rather unventional, giving her aic beauty.

  Her nose was sharp, and her eyes were cold.

  Though, for sheer size, Tsuill held the .

  As Masashi's thoughts wahe Kiri ninja captaied the approag figure with a friendly smile.

  "May I ask, are you Pakura?"

  "Yes." The woman nodded. "I am Pakura."

  Seeing the Kiri ninja weling her, she thought little of them. She'd eliminated tless weaklings like these, none of whom posed a threat to her.

  "I'm here to guide you. The mist here is thid full of traps," the captain said dutifully. "Please stay close to me."

  "You're too kind." Representing Suna in f friendly ties with Kiri, Pakura maintained a polite smile.

  She walked toward the captain, who had already turned around. However, she didn't notice the hatred in his eyes as he turned away.

  So, just as she moved alongside the captain, she was attacked.

  The Kiri ninjas, raised uhe Third Mizukage's Bloody Mist policy, excelled at sudden kacks—the best in the shinobi world.

  Realizing the danger, she reacted quickly, but the captain had timed his strike perfectly, wounding her with a kunai.

  Though the wound wasn't deep, it had successfully injured her.

  "Feel the pain our rades endured when they were sughtered!"

  The captain swiftly retreated, unwilling to face Pakura's Scorch Release head-on.

  His attack was the signal. Shuriken flew in volleys from one side of the valley.

  The captain initially smiled, then frowned.

  Why only one side? Where were the others?

  Even so, it was enough to trouble her.

  The kunai oisoned. Despite Suna's expertise with toxins, Pakura herself wasn't a poison specialist. Worse, the poison on the captain's kunai was ade and not easily tered.

  The toxin slowed her nerves. Despite her efforts to evade, over a dozen shuriken hit her back.

  None were ordinary—they all carried poison.

  She fell to the ground with a thud, paralyzed. Unless someoervened, her decapitation was certain.

  The captain smiled. Though part of his team hadn't attacked, Pakura had fallen, and his vengeance was plete He was so ecstatic he nearly howled at the sky.

  But his joy was short-lived.

  A massive fireball lit up his face, r past with devastating ford exploding against the cliff, instantly killing several Kiri ninjas. The heat was intense enough to vaporize the moisture in the air, creating a temporary clear zone in the mist.

  Before the captain could react, a figure swooped in, hoisted Pakura onto their shoulder, and bolted. The movement was so swift it seemed like they'd teleported.

  ---

  Oh, all ball games have standardized sizes for their balls. This ensures fair petition.

  Otherwise, the varying sizes would severely affect performance.

  Having been hit in the face by balls more than once, Masashi found himself p this principle of standardization.

  He had picked her up the wrong way. Not that he minded.

  In his first round of life, carrying all kinds of women, he had never entered a situation like this before.

  Kunoichi of the Warring States Period had maintairict standards. So why, after the establishment of the Oion, One Vilge system, did so many female ninja seem to abandon suiformity?

  Was it the middle-css lifestyle?

  The expanded dating pool causiic diversity?

  Take Tsuransformation from 'modest' to 'impressive' without marriage—was this another example of how peacetime prosperity ged ninja society?

  Realizing his thoughts had wandered into inappropriate territory during a rescue, he decided not to pursue this line of thinking further. Better to focus oask at hand.

  Chakra signatures ahead. Six... no, seven Kiri ninjas. Through his Sharingan, Masashi spotted the approag squad on the cliff. Their formation suggested they were hunting rather than patrolling.

  His hands moved swiftly through the seals—Snake, Ram, Monkey, Boar, Horse, Tiger.

  The chakra molded perfectly in his lungs.

  After bsting away the Kiri ninjas appearing on a cliff with a Great Fireball, he used the Flying Thunder God to swiftly pick up Pakura, telep away in an instant.

  The massive sphere of fmes illumihe cliff face, f the Kiri ninjas to scatter.

  When it came to ued individuals, he avoided unnecessary killing.

  Moreover, Kiri's "pond" was valuable to Masashi—a sustainable resource worth preserving, including its "fish."

  "Don't let them escape!" A voice echoed from behind as they vanished.

  The cries of the Kiri ninjas quickly faded from his ears. On the journey, all obstacles came solely from Pakura.

  After being smacked in the face repeatedly, Masashi finally escaped from the valley where Kiri was located, running far away. His movements were precise despite the awkward burden.

  "You picked a fiime to need resg," he muttered to his unscious cargo.

  The Flying Thunder God couldn't stop the two "balls" from falling and swinging freely. They even fought each other. Nature's forces truly were infinite.

  So, mid-flight, he had no choice but to adjust her position.

  Much better.

  Eventually, Masashi arrived at a retively dry cave. He had prepared this spot earlier by setting up a Flying Thunder God seal and roasting the space with fire jutsu. His Sharingahe perimeter, firming no unwanted visitors.

  It erfect for a temporary rest.

  As for wild animals—don't be ridiculous. The shinobi world has no animal prote ws; in fact, eliminating wild beasts was often a low-level mission for in.

  In the cave, he id the unscious Pakura on a hay pile. After examining her, he firmed she had been really poisoned. He gave her a universal antidote developed by the Nara to sustain her dition.

  The up, took out his sealing scroll, arieved camping equipment like a tent.

  Once everything was set up, Pakura already looked healthier.

  Kiri's poisons were weak. When it came to toxins, Suna was unmatched.

  The only person who ever surpassed Sun in poison mastery was Hanzō of the Samander from Ame.

  Pakura was still unscious, so he squatted o her. His Sharingan traced the flow of chakra through her system, monit the antidote's progress.

  Although the antidote had helped, it likely wasn't fully effective, and the poison wasirely ralized.

  No big deal—she could deal with it herself when she woke up.

  After some thought, he decided to himself up.

  One misstep had ended up c him in mud. Even half his shoulder was caked in it.

  Despite his current appearance, he was a very person.

  He had chosen this cave for a reason. It was not only secluded but also spacious enough. After ing and drying it, the natural depressions inside could even serve as a bath.

  Gathering some firewood, he lit a fire a io bathe.

  Fire and water—truly the best ninjutsu for both bat and everyday life.

  Once finished, he rihe mud from his clothes with water and dried them with fire before putting them ba aurning to the tent.

  Pakura's breathing was steady. Her chakra patterns have ged. She's awake.

  "Hey, wake up," Masashi called.

  Pakura kept sleeping.

  Masashi felt insulted—did she doubt his professional skills?

  Did she think he couldn't tell whether someone was awake just by looking at their chakra?

  Fine.

  Rolling up his sleeves, cloth in hand, he began wiping Pakura down. He had tolerated her being covered in mud for too long.

  Sneak attack? Impossible.

  After the Third Great Ninja War, no Kiri ninja could ambush him. Pakura's Scorch Release could never match the speed of his ice.

  That said, even as he wiped her down, he avoided inappropriate areas.

  Toug her unnecessarily while she was immobile? He wasn't that kind of person.

  Such behavior was an insult to his standing.

  If anything, he sidered himself polite for not making a crude ent like, "Do it yourself."

  Ba the day, he had been quite the charmer among kunoichi. Though he never uood why things never worked out in the end.

  They even called him a "scumbag."

  How had matters of love turned into accusations of scumminess? Women's hearts were like the depths of the o.

  After finishing, Masashi couldn't ighe mud left on two particur areas. Torween his Od the risk of being beled "creepy," he chose to address the OCD.

  If he ed everything but left that bit behind, it would drive him crazy.

  Fortunately, he had a solution.

  With the precise trol of his Sharingan and exceptional chakra manipution, he used wind to gee a stable airflow. This lifted the cloth, which he maneuvered toward the "two peaks."

  In terms of fire, water, and wind, he preferred not to rely on fixed teiques for wind. Instead, he embraced its natural properties. His Wind Release resembled the Gentle Fist of the Hyūga .

  This skill was honed during his first life, thanks to a certain Hyūga princess.

  Although that sp hurt—it left his face swollen for a month. Why did she use Gentle Fist for a sp? Wasn't she worried about hurting him?

  His mind was drifting again.

  With this teique, though he failed to replicate the string-maniputed shuriken teique using wind, ing up was easy.

  Quickly and precisely, the oved, enveloped, and spun.

  Beautifully executed.

  He tossed the cloth aside, leaving it be.

  Settling down by the fire, he snacked on some rations.

  Soldier pills were made from ordinary food ingredients mixed with special additives, designed for quick digestion and energy replenishment. High-quality pills were better banced and harmless to the body. Ultimately, they were food, not medie.

  But they tasted awful.

  Masashi had oried to create his own recipe. The result? Even worse.

  Siheuck to the standard issue from his .

  Behind him came a noise. Finally dropping the act.

  Turning, he saw Pakura sitting up, staring at him. Her eyes were sharp, assessing, already calg possible escape routes and bat sarios.

  "Why did you save me?" she asked. Though aware he had rescued her and likely meant no harm, she still o dis his iions.

  After all, there were no identifying marks on him.

  "Because I ," Masashi replied reflexively, slipping into his usual persona.

  Seeing her rea, he quickly apologized. "Sorry, force of habit. Wrong text."

  He stood, activating his Sharingan.

  "Member of the Police Force, Masashi. I've long admired your reputation, Pakura of the Scorch Release."

  Hearing his name and seeing his Sharingan, Pakura was startled. Her posture shifted subtly from defeo respectful.

  "No, the admiration is mine…" As someone essentially part of Suna's upper echelon, she uood the kind of figure standing before her. "Thank you for saving me."