The man leading the group glanced at Shigeo, who stood silently under a hooded cloak. His entire face was hidden, yet an icy pressure radiated from him. Though he said nothing, his very presence inspired fear.
Kankurō nodded, wordless, and handed over a pouch of money.
Just as the man reached for it, Shigeo intercepted the pouch.
The familiar gesture made the five impostors tense instantly. They widened their eyes and, upon seeing the long, slender fingers, nearly wet themselves in terror.
"A-ah, we remember now. We don't need the money! Right, we've got business elsewhere, we'll just leave…"
"What are you doing?" Kankurō glared at Shigeo. "That's their commission. Let go and pay them!"
But the five frauds no longer dared. They stumbled backward in panic, ready to flee—only to find themselves frozen in place, their feet bound by Jiton (Magnet Release). Terrified, they turned toward the cloaked youth.
He stood there in silence, one hand moving through seals.
"Money for results. Since you're here, let's see your sealing array in action before paying." Shigeo's cold voice cut the air. He shoved the pouch back into Kankurō's hands.
"S-sorry…" The fake Shigeo tried again with pitiful submission.
Pfft—
Before another word could leave their mouths, Magnet Release sealed all five mouths shut. Not a sound escaped.
Kankurō stared wide-eyed, glancing at Shigeo with growing curiosity.
The impostors, immobilized, were shoved into a crack in the rocks.
At that moment, several figures appeared at the canyon entrance. Kankurō quickly dragged Shigeo into hiding.
The group advanced swiftly, black dots growing under the sun until nine figures entered the canyon.
The squad halted. Among them was small Gaara—red-haired, cold-breathed, standing lifeless like a doll. His dull eyes swept the area before turning to the leader.
That leader raised his hand. The other seven spread out, forming a ring.
"Gaara, you know why we're here, don't you?" The man's trembling voice betrayed his sweat-soaked palms.
The shura who loves only himself.
Only six years old, yet Gaara had already massacred comrades. Not only his peers—grown shinobi, even jōnin, dreaded being alone with him.
Days ago, he had killed Yashamaru, his caretaker since infancy.
A jinchūriki who could not be used by the village… could only be erased. Otherwise, disaster loomed.
So young, yet a murderer without emotion. The village could not tolerate him, not even the Fourth Kazekage.
This mission had been ordered by the Kazekage himself. The boy was to be eliminated here.
On the mountain above, the Fourth Kazekage Rasa stood watching. This was his son. Unless there was no other choice, he would not act personally.
His gaze fixed on the "愛" scar on Gaara's forehead. His chest tightened. Memories of his wife's smile resurfaced. Had he chosen wrong?
It was he who sealed Shukaku into his premature son. Hoping to create a jinchūriki like those of Kumo, Kiri, Iwa, and Konoha. But it had failed.
Gaara was unstable. At the slightest trigger, he erupted into bijū state. Already, he had killed over ten people. As Kazekage, he had placed a live bomb inside Sunagakure. He bore responsibility.
Even Yashamaru's death was his doing. He had known Gaara could not suppress Shukaku's rage, yet sent Yashamaru to act. His fault.
Today, he would settle it as father and leader.
On the mountain, Rasa faced the wind. In the canyon, eight jōnin ringed the child, fully alert.
"You plan to kill me?" The boy stood unmoving, lifeless as a dead branch swaying in cold wind. His voice froze the blood.
"Yes. This is your last chance. By the Kazekage's order: if today you can control the beast, you'll return with us. If not… we won't hold back."
At once, the eight spread formation, ready.
"You all want me dead. All of you." Gaara sneered. His eyes flashed cold. Before they moved, his body twisted, shifting into partial bijū form, charging straight at them.
In hiding, Kankurō clenched his fists. Shigeo leaned toward him.
"What do you want of me? Kill him like them? Or protect him?"
Shigeo's eyes searched him. Kankurō's whole body tensed. He whispered:
"Wait. Once Shigeo's sealing art works, he can control the beast!"
His fists shook. His eyes carried fear and unwillingness.
Shigeo chuckled. "I already captured those frauds. You still think they were the real me?"
The boy refused to admit the truth staring him down.
"Quiet. Watch!"
He was taut as a bowstring, eyes fixed on the canyon.
The eight jōnin rushed in from every angle. Against other ninja, their ninjutsu would dominate. But against raw bijū chakra, they crumbled.
From the east, a shinobi launched Fūton (Wind Release). Against a ninja, that scale could decide a battle. But against half-transformed Gaara?
The gust tore across the beast's form. It did nothing. Instead, it enraged him.
Gaara roared, drool dripping, eyes blazing like a cornered beast. His chakra surged with savage fury.
A massive claw swept forward, seeking to annihilate everything in its path. The shinobi had no time for counters—Shukaku's power hurled him away.
Meanwhile, Gaara's subconscious drove sand to swirl around him, forming a tightening barrier.
(End of Chapter)
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