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After careful consideration, the most likely explanation was that Itachi had found this place and wrecked it.
Not that it was definitely him, but the probability was high.
Midorima searched the laboratory again. Aside from the furniture and equipment that were inconvenient to move, almost everything else had been looted.
It seemed Itachi hadn't gained much either.
Midorima pondered how to track down Orochimaru but couldn't think of any reliable method. He let out a heavy sigh and walked out of Orochimaru's lab, feeling somewhat disappointed—no, extremely disappointed.
"Yahaha, hello there. Do you know where the guy who lived here went?"
Just as Midorima stepped out of the lab, wondering where to go next, he suddenly sensed someone speaking to him from the rooftop.
He quickly turned his head and frowned slightly at the sight of the speaker.
The person was crouched on the lab's roof, his face obscured below the nose by a black cloth. His hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and his eyes were filled with malice, giving off an unsettling vibe.
A puppet?
No, to be precise, it was Hiruko.
And hidden inside it—without a doubt—was Sasori of the Red Sand.
Midorima narrowed his eyes. No matter how careful he was, he had still run into the Akatsuki. Fortunately, he was wearing a mask, so even if they met, his identity wouldn't be exposed.
Still, every member of the Akatsuki was troublesome in their own way—whether it was Kakuzu, Hidan, or Kisame. Sasori was also unpleasant, but in terms of sheer repulsiveness, he couldn't compare to Hidan.
"No idea. I just saw this place and thought I might grab some stuff, but it was already cleaned out," Midorima said, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture.
Who's Orochimaru? Never heard of him.
Midorima recalled that Sasori and Orochimaru had once been partners. After Orochimaru defected, he was replaced by Deidara.
It seemed Sasori was here looking for Orochimaru.
In a way, both Sasori and Orochimaru needed their own time alone—one for experiments, the other for puppet-making.
"So, you're just after money?" Sasori's voice echoed from within the puppet.
"Who doesn't love money?" Midorima countered.
"Fair enough. But why are you wearing a mask?"
"Too ugly. Don't want to scare people," Midorima chuckled.
"You think you're uglier than me?" Sasori asked.
"People who are genuinely ugly usually don't say things like that," Midorima shook his head.
"Oh? So you know what I look like?" Sasori sounded intrigued.
"Nope." Midorima stared at him.
Since when was Sasori this sharp?
"Don't you think your words contradict each other?" Sasori pressed.
"Not at all," Midorima replied. "When people speak, unless they're completely exposed to open air, there's always some echo. Some echoes are obvious, others less so. That's all there is to it. You're no exception."
"You have sharp ears."
"Just decent. Anyway, if there's nothing else, I'll be going." Midorima had no desire to engage further with Sasori.
"Oh no, you won't." Sasori let out a sinister laugh as a long, segmented "tail" extended from his black cloak.
It wasn't a real tail but rather a chain of metallic joints resembling a scorpion's stinger—and it was dripping with poison.
The moment the tail shot out, it lunged at Midorima.
Midorima barely dodged in time. The tail struck the ground, sending shattered rocks flying in all directions.
By now, Sasori's cloak had split open, revealing a massive demonic face on his back.
Hiruko crouched low on all fours, its posture more akin to an insect than a human.
"You've got an interesting skeletal structure. Why not become my puppet?" Sasori sneered.
Midorima's face darkened. Interesting skeletal structure? Yeah, right—everyone who's heard that line is probably dead.
"I prefer staying free. Being a puppet doesn't suit me," Midorima flatly refused.
He had no interest in playing such games.
Sasori wasn't surprised by the rejection. Even as Midorima spoke, Hiruko's tail lashed out again.
Midorima remembered that Hiruko was a nasty piece of work—its attacks were almost always laced with poison.
In the original timeline, it took the combined efforts of Chiyo and Sakura, both combat-oriented medical ninja, to defeat Sasori. Most other shinobi wouldn't stand a chance against his venomous assaults.
After evading the tail strike, Hiruko's mouth gaped open, unleashing a barrage of poisoned needles.
"Earth Release: Earth-Style Wall!"
A thick earthen barrier erupted from the ground, blocking the needles.
"Hey, you don't even know my strength, yet you attack me like this. Aren't you afraid I'll turn you into a puppet?" Midorima was getting irritated.
Then again, crafting puppets was Sasori's specialty.
He had turned his own parents into puppets, and even the Third Kazekage—revered as the strongest Kazekage—hadn't been spared. And the Third's fate had been particularly gruesome.
"Hah! Do you really think you can break through my defenses?" Sasori laughed as Hiruko's mouth opened again, firing an even denser storm of needles and spikes. "Hiruko: Needle Barrage!"
Midorima raised another Earth-Style Wall, but this time, the high-velocity projectiles shattered it. Simultaneously, Hiruko's left arm detached and launched forward, its hollow interior packed with poison canisters.
Like a rapid-fire cannon, the canisters shot out in all directions, releasing clouds of toxic needles mid-flight.
The air around Midorima became saturated with venomous projectiles.
Unlike the Needle Barrage, these needles weren't aimed in a single direction—they spread out indiscriminately, leaving almost no room to evade.
At this point, Midorima finally got serious. His speed surged as he weaved through the storm of needles, a whirlwind forming around him to deflect the projectiles off-course.
Meanwhile, Hiruko's tail reared up again, poised to strike—if not to kill, then at least to force distance between them.
For a puppeteer, close-quarters combat was a death sentence. Their strength lay in controlling puppets, not hand-to-hand combat.
But just then, the ground beneath Hiruko softened, the once-solid earth turning into a bog.
"Earth Release: Swamp of the Underworld!"
A figure burst out from within Hiruko, landing a dozen meters away, watching helplessly as the puppet sank into the mire.
"Swamp of the Underworld? You're from Iwagakure? No—if you were, you wouldn't need to hide your face. Who are you? A missing-nin from Konoha?"
Midorima studied the red-haired youth now standing before him. Clad in the Akatsuki's signature black-and-red cloak, he looked almost harmless—but Midorima knew better. This was the instigator of the Third Shinobi World War. Though he appeared young, he was at least six or seven years older than Midorima.
"I already told you—I'm just passing through. You have your business, I have mine. But you just had to stop me. Now look, your puppet's gone. Just so we're clear, I can't afford to compensate you for something that expensive."
*****
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