Pakura escorted Sakyō and Kijō Uroko nearly a hundred miles away, watching as they crossed the mountain ravines and disappeared into the distance. Only then did she finally believe that Umino Yoru was sincere about the exchange.
Though Sakyō's abilities were mediocre, Kijō Uroko possessed two high-level puppets at the jonin tier, making him a formidable combatant. The Konoha Hundred were already stretched thin dealing with the Mist ninja, so it was unlikely they'd spare significant forces to chase after the two.
"Pakura, once the seal is removed, you're not thinking of running, are you?" Umino Yoru stared intently into her eyes, his voice laced with threat. "You wouldn't want those dozens of Suna prisoners to die because of you, right?"
"Hmph!" Pakura scoffed, her tone defiant yet oddly compliant. "White Blood Demon, I'm not as scheming as you. As long as you keep your word, I won't leave—not that I'd even want to."
"Good." Yoru nodded in satisfaction.
"Then what are you waiting for? Remove the seal already!" Pakura immediately turned her back to him, her smooth, exposed skin dominating his vision.
"Do all the girls from Suna dress this… revealingly?" Yoru rubbed his nose, amused. Her outfit was less like clothing and more like a swimsuit.
What was even more baffling was how someone so bold in demeanor could be so innocent in character—a true blend of angel and devil.
Still, as an elite shinobi, he had enough self-control to stay focused.
Swiftly forming hand seals, Yoru pressed his palms against Pakura's back. Dark curse markings surfaced like swarming ants, crawling across her skin, even creeping up her fair neck.
"Mmm~" A ticklish sensation made Pakura shiver, a soft moan escaping her lips. The warmth of his touch, combined with the influx of chakra into her body, filled her with an inexplicable sense of shame.
Yoru channeled more chakra, methodically erasing the cursed seals.
"Done."
Removing the seal wasn't difficult—just time-consuming. Once freed, Pakura's legs gave out, and she slumped forward.
"Pakura, are you alright?" Yoru caught her before she hit the ground, a flicker of worry crossing his mind. If the prolonged sealing had damaged her abilities, she'd be useless against the Mist ninja.
Her Scorch Release hadn't been effective against him due to his sonic waves and mechanized puppets, but against Mist shinobi? She'd be a nightmare—more valuable than even an elite jonin in the right circumstances.
If she were truly compromised, they'd lose a crucial asset.
"Get your filthy hands off me!" Pakura snapped back to full awareness, her face burning red as she slapped his arms away and steadied herself.
"Right." Yoru realized his mistake—her skimpy outfit left little barrier between his hands and her skin.
Still, the smooth, silken feel of her skin made him instinctively squeeze slightly as he let go.
"Ah~!" Another involuntary gasp slipped out before Pakura registered what happened. "You—! You pervert! DIE!"
In a fit of rage, she aimed a vicious kick at his most vulnerable spot.
Yoru barely dodged with a flicker step, putting distance between them in case she decided to roast him with a Scorch Release fireball.
"Misunderstanding! Total misunderstanding!" He coughed awkwardly, his own face flushing.
"Hmph! Pervert!" Pakura glared at him, noticing how he brought his hand to his nose—was he sniffing her scent?! The thought made her blood boil, but there was nothing she could do except seethe.
"Ahem." Yoru cleared his throat, shifting to a serious tone. "We're pressed for time. Let's get back and deal with the Mist."
He signaled upward, and his summoned hawk, Shiro, descended, landing before them. Yoru leaped onto its back, and after a final icy glare, Pakura reluctantly followed.
The cramped space forced them into close contact, reigniting her fury.
As Shiro took off, Pakura's eyes flickered with murderous intent—she contemplated summoning a Scorch Release fireball and incinerating the man pressed against her.
"No… too risky."
Her thoughts raced. The White Blood Demon was cunning—if he dared stay this close, he had to have a countermeasure. Even if she succeeded, the captured Suna ninja would be slaughtered in retaliation.
Gritting her teeth, she suppressed the urge. Later. After my comrades are safe.
"Oh? Not going to try?" Yoru's teasing voice whispered in her ear. "What if you'd succeeded? I was hoping you'd attack—would've given me an excuse to execute a prisoner or two as a warning. Pity."
"Hmph! I knew you were plotting something!" Pakura shuddered at how close she'd come to triggering a massacre.
"Heh." Yoru smirked. His Sound Radar technique had detected her subtle movements—this little test confirmed she truly cared about the Suna captives. Good. It meant she wouldn't betray them mid-battle.
The warmth of his breath on her neck made Pakura's blood boil, but she could do nothing. A crushing sense of helplessness settled over her.
For once, she didn't even react to leaning against him—only exhaustion and defeat remained.
"Hm?" Yoru's eyes narrowed. Is she trying to seduce me now?
Luckily, Shiro's speed saved him from further temptation. A hundred miles vanished in minutes.
"Boss… impressive." Shikuro grinned, seeing Pakura's unusually docile demeanor. He gave Yoru a thumbs-up.
Meanwhile, Akari Anma's expression dimmed. Her earlier hostility toward Pakura morphed into something closer to envy.
With the Konoha Hundred assembled and Pakura behaving, Yoru gave the order.
"Move out!"
With a wave of his hand, he led the elite strike force toward the ambush point, ready to face the Mist.
--- please vote this story to motivate me post 2ch/day