Hearing a voice from behind, Deidara quickly turned his head.
Standing there was Aburame Shigeo, who had somehow silently appeared behind him. The man fluttered his three pairs of golden insect wings, smiling pleasantly.
Deidara's pupils immediately contracted.
"Master, when did you...?"
"Don't move."
Seeing Deidara's instinct to raise his hand, Shigeo gestured toward his chest with a calm smile.
"Take a closer look at your clothes."
"..."
Upon hearing this, Deidara suddenly had a sinking feeling. He immediately lowered his head to inspect his outfit.
Two crimson explosive blood insects were crawling up his clothes, heading for his collar.
"Explosive insects!"
Deidara cried out, feeling his body tense up, the hairs on his neck standing straight.
However, as he looked at Shigeo's gentle smile, he forced himself to appear composed.
"Y-you're bluffing! I know your insects are strong, but at this close range, you wouldn't escape the explosion either."
"Oh? You've thought this through—impressive!"
Shigeo complimented him, adjusting his sunglasses with a slight push.
"But have you considered how likely it is that the person standing before you is just a clone?"
"Uh..."
Cold sweat trickled down Deidara's face.
Knowing Shigeo's cunning nature, the likelihood that this was a clone exceeded 90%.
Panic set in.
While Deidara wasn't afraid of death, he didn't want to die in such a trivial way. Perishing alongside a mere clone and two insects would be disgraceful—utterly unworthy of his artistic identity!
But surrendering was equally humiliating.
Gritting his teeth, he glanced at Gaara, wrapped in the tail of his clay bird.
"Even if you are a clone, your target must be him. If the insects explode, he's doomed, hm!"
"That doesn't concern me."
Shigeo shrugged nonchalantly, spreading his hands.
"I'm not from the Sand Village. Why should I care if he lives or dies? He's just the One-Tail."
"But if the Jinchūriki dies, the One-Tail dies too!" Deidara shouted, frustration creeping into his voice. "Doesn't that matter to you?"
"Not at all."
Shigeo shrugged again.
"Tail Beasts can revive. A few years later, I'll just head to the desert to find it again. A bit inconvenient, sure, but I've got time."
"Ugh..."
Deidara was at a loss for words, biting his lip and glaring at Shigeo with fury.
"What do you want?"
"I've already told you!" Shigeo pointed at Gaara, still held by the clay bird. "Hand him over to me!"
"Fine!"
The situation left Deidara with no choice. He nodded reluctantly, ordering the clay bird to place Gaara on the ground.
Satisfied, Shigeo smiled approvingly.
"Good choice, Deidara!"
"The Akatsuki won't forgive you!"
Deidara grumbled, his anger barely contained. However, before he could say more, a sharp pain spread through his chest, as if something was burrowing inside.
He didn't need to guess—it was the explosive blood insect.
The thought of its devastating power and the image of his body being blown to bits turned Deidara pale.
An artist at heart, he couldn't bear to die in such an undignified manner. Dying in someone else's explosion was far too pathetic. If anything, he'd rather go out in a grand, self-detonated spectacle!
Just as he prepared to act, Shigeo's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Deidara, as fellow enthusiasts of explosive art, we shouldn't be enemies. Missions—do they really outweigh art?"
"Of course not!"
Deidara immediately grew animated.
"Art is the most important thing! Nothing else matters. I live for art, hm!"
"Exactly!"
Shigeo draped an arm around Deidara's shoulders with a grin.
"Capturing Gaara already proves the greatness of your art. As for the failed mission, who's going to know if neither of us mentions it?"
Deidara frowned. "That's all well and good, but..."
"No buts!"
Shigeo cut him off, his tone firm.
"Why waste time here? Wouldn't it be better to find another Jinchūriki or Tail Beast to showcase your unparalleled artistry? That's what truly matters!"
"And what about Sasori? He won't stay silent about this!" Deidara glanced at Sasori, locked in a fierce battle with Konan.
"Oh, he will."
Shigeo smiled slyly, sparing a glance at Sasori.
"I'll handle him. You just head back. And remember—not a word about me and Konan."
"Fine, fine!"
Deidara rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed.
"My life's already in your hands. As long as you don't interfere with my art, I'll go. I'm out of here!"
With that, he leapt onto his clay bird and soared into the sky, vanishing in the distance.
Seeing this, Sasori, still engaged in combat, was furious.
"That fool Deidara! He left me behind! I'll kill him and turn him into a puppet!"
Fueled by anger, Sasori intensified his attacks using the Third Kazekage puppet.
But Konan wasn't easy to deal with.
With her Paper Style, she countered the magnetic manipulation of the puppet, rendering its iron weapons useless.
Soon, she covered the Third Kazekage puppet with paper bombs, blowing it to pieces.
Frustrated, Sasori revealed his trump card—his own puppet body.
Seeing Sasori's transformation, Konan hesitated briefly, shocked.
He seized the moment.
"Die!"
Sasori's arms, now flamethrowers, spewed fire at Konan.
Paper Style was particularly vulnerable to fire, forcing Konan to retreat. But evasion wasn't easy; Sasori's flames cut off her escape routes.
"Time to end this!"
As Sasori prepared his final attack, Shigeo's deep voice echoed through the battlefield.
"Amaterasu!"
(End of Chapter)