Konoha Village, on a rooftop in the southeastern corner, several ANBU corpses lay quietly.
"After plucking out the irritating eyes watching this area, it feels so much better…"
The speaker was a hunched man in a black cloak patterned with red clouds. As he finished, he retracted the bamboo-segment-like tail from his body.
He was the S-rank missing-nin of Sunagakure — Sasori of the Red Sand.
The ANBU corpses showed almost no signs of struggle; their lips were purple, their faces bluish — clearly they had died from poison.
Hearing him speak, a blond, single-ponytailed youth beside him grumbled in dissatisfaction:
"Sasori-aniki, why wouldn't you let me make a move? If it were my art, they'd have gone boom and vanished just like that."
He was the S-rank missing-nin from Iwagakure — Deidara. He muttered resentfully:
"Why insist on such petty methods?"
To this artistic genius of the Rock, using poison was nothing but a "cheap trick."
Yet in truth, across the successive great ninja wars, the number of ninja killed by poison far surpassed all other categories.
"Your techniques make too much noise," Sasori said calmly. "This time, the client paid a huge sum — the leader himself even came in person. If you make a mess of it…"
"Do you want Kakuzu and Konan to hunt you down together?"
Deidara froze for a moment, then furrowed his brow and seriously considered the consequences. Slowly, his face darkened. He shook his head like a rattling drum and crossed his arms in front of his chest:
"Absolutely not."
Sasori: "Idiot."
Similar scenes were playing out in other corners of Konoha. Kakuzu's squad had taken out another ANBU team — each victim's chest had been punched clean through.
In the Pain group's case, the ANBU they killed had far stranger deaths — no visible wounds at all, as though their very souls had been extracted.
This year's joint Chūnin Exams were unprecedented in scale. To prevent trouble during the event, the Third Hokage had deployed every ANBU under his command to serve as the "eyes" monitoring Konoha's streets.
But Konoha was simply too large, and too many places required guarding. On top of that, the Land of Wind's daimyō had recently issued many high-rank missions to Konoha, sending numerous jōnin and ANBU out of the village.
Even mobilizing all the ANBU wasn't enough to fully cover the village. In fact, the massive Chūnin Exam arena had only eight ANBU squads guarding it.
Fortunately, there were still many jōnin present in the arena — and the Hokage himself. Surely no one would be foolish enough to cause trouble here.
In the arena, Gaara had already engaged Sasuke.
Sasuke's speed was overwhelming — so fast Gaara's sand couldn't keep up. Rather than a battle, it was more like Sasuke toying with Gaara in a one-sided display.
At present, Sasuke had few equals in the entire shinobi world. Since awakening the Mangekyō Sharingan, his strength had soared.
Gaara's power was far from weak, but still no match for him.
Luckily for Gaara, Sasuke wasn't in a hurry to finish him.
He hadn't used his sword techniques, his spiked club, or even the Sharingan's genjutsu — merely playing around.
Sasuke's growth had long outstripped his peers; with the "cheat-eye" awakened, even a normal jinchūriki's rate of improvement couldn't compare.
Shukaku: "Brat, let me out! I'll squash him with one slap!"
Chōmei: "Shukaku, you're still as violent as ever."
Fū: "Hey, big tanuki, big tanuki, be my friend!"
Shukaku: "No!"
Shukaku: "You're so annoying!"
Already struggling, Gaara now had to endure the mental noise in his head. Cut off from the outside world and with his focus scattered, his agitation spiked.
"Ugh…" Gaara half-knelt on the ground, clutching his forehead in pain.
"Chōmei," Fū was the first to notice Gaara's abnormal state. She spoke inwardly to the Seven-Tails: "That quiet guy seems… not okay."
Her blunt, straightforward nature made her assume Gaara's silence meant he didn't want to talk. In truth, Gaara simply had no idea how to use the "Tailed Beast channel" to communicate.
Shukaku had never taught him.
"He's probably losing control," Chōmei immediately recognized the signs — the prelude to a jinchūriki rampage.
In a thousand years, he'd seen it too many times.
The sealing techniques of Sunagakure were crude — even cruder than those of Takigakure — giving Shukaku very little restraint. It often wrestled with Gaara for control, leading to frequent rampages. Many Suna villagers had died as a result.
Even as the son of the Fourth Kazekage, Gaara was met more with fear than hatred.
In that, he was much like Naruto in his youth — except Naruto never actually killed villagers.
For Naruto, the ratio was reversed: more hatred than fear.
Gaara's gourd opened, and torrents of sand burst forth, spilling across half the arena in seconds.
That man-sized gourd was packed with highly compressed sand — enough to blanket most of a forest. It was designed for battlefield terrain control.
A sand-filled battlefield was where Shukaku's power shone best.
Amid the storm of sand, Gaara's body began to change — his arms taking on Shukaku's monstrous features.
The rampage was imminent.
"Ahaha! I'm coming out!" Shukaku roared in delight.
"Chōmei, can we help him? He looks like he's in so much pain." Fū's eyes were full of distress as she watched Gaara writhe.
Chōmei was silent for a moment:
"I'm afraid not. Once that big tanuki decides on something, he doesn't change easily."
"That big tanuki is so not cute!"
"This is bad — Gaara's state is wrong."
Maki, watching from the stands, had also noticed. He glanced up at the sky — it wasn't time yet.
"Acting now would be too early! If Shukaku reveals himself now, the Konoha shinobi will crush him instantly."
Should they start ahead of schedule?
Maki couldn't decide. His eyes drifted toward the "Fourth Kazekage."
But the "Kazekage" ignored him entirely, gaze fixed only on the Third Hokage.
Maki's heart sank.
What the hell is going on?!
"Contestant Gaara, are you feeling unwell?" Genma Shiranui called out. "Can you continue the match?"
"ROAR!" Gaara, having lost most of his consciousness, let out a pained howl that blurred into a beast's growl.
Seeing him in such agony, Fū's eyes hardened with resolve.
"I'm going to help him!"
"He's my very first friend."
From the moment she first saw this gourd-bearing, panda-eyed boy, she'd felt a strange warmth toward him. Whether he admitted it or not, she had already decided he was her friend.
And watching a friend suffer — that just wasn't her style.
Before anyone could stop her, and under the astonished stares of the crowd, Fū leapt into the arena.
From the stands, Shibuki's face twisted in despair.
What is that idiot doing?! Don't drag Takigakure into trouble!
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