#14

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Orochimaru's eyes narrowed.

"The Unscientific Ninja?"

Sand ninja. The unscientific prodigal ninja from the sand. A ghost.

The three key words connected in Orochimaru's mind like pieces of a puzzle.

"You're Mufasa?"

As an ally of the Sand Village, Orochimaru had done his research. He knew about Mufasa, the so-called "unscientific" genius of the Sand. But the man had kept a low profile, too busy with his own pursuits to draw much attention. Orochimaru had only skimmed through his file, never expecting to cross paths with him.

Yet here he was.

Orochimaru's mind worked quickly, recalling every detail from his past reports while keeping his expression calm. If Mufasa was expecting a reaction, he wasn't going to get one.

Mufasa smirked, noticing how swiftly Orochimaru shifted from surprise to composure. He had to admit—he was impressed.

"Well, well, Orochimaru, you got it right. I am Mufasa of the Sunagakure."

He flicked the cigarette between his fingers before continuing. "As for how I know you… it's simple. You know, I'm something of a scientist myself, so naturally, I keep an eye on people like you."

Orochimaru's eyes twitched ever so slightly. Scientist? That word seemed out of place for a shinobi like him whos rumors suggest that the way he does things were too... unscientific. But he could sense that Mufasa was studying him, as if he were the subject of an experiment.

Good or bad?

He wasn't sure yet.

He decided to probe. "The Sand and Sound are working together to attack Konoha. Why aren't you there?"

Mufasa exhaled a thin stream of smoke. "Why aren't you?"

His tone held the faintest trace of amusement, which irritated Orochimaru more than he cared to admit. This man was unreadable, his very presence an enigma. It was unsettling.

The night deepened. The moon and stars shimmered in the dark sky, their reflections dancing on the river's surface.

Mufasa stood atop the water, perfectly balanced, as if the waves themselves were carrying him. Even in the face of danger, his expression remained relaxed—almost bored. It was that casual arrogance that made Orochimaru's skin crawl. But what truly unsettled him was the way Mufasa looked at him.

It was the look of someone who had already figured him out.

Orochimaru let out a slow breath. "We were injured during the attack. We're retreating to recover. But you, as a Sand ninja, should be in Konoha, not following me."

Mufasa tilted his head. "Injured? You don't look like you're missing any limbs to me."

Orochimaru tensed.

The consequences of the Reaper Death Seal were already taking effect. His hands felt as if they were burning, the scars of the jutsu eating away at his very soul. Even without seeing them, Mufasa had sensed something was wrong.

And he was enjoying every second of it.

Orochimaru clenched his jaw. He had enough. "Kill him."

His subordinates sprang into action.

Kidomaru moved first. With all six of his arms, he wove a series of hand signs, then opened his mouth wide.

"Ninja Art: Spider Nest!"

A barrage of thick, chakra-infused webs shot toward Mufasa, their adhesive properties designed to trap even the fastest prey.

At the same time, Sakon and Ukon activated their second-stage Cursed Seal. Their bodies darkened, their skin shifting into deep crimson as black markings twisted across them. A single horn sprouted from each of their heads as they charged across the water, aiming to strike.

From the riverbank, Tayuya and Jirobo stood ready, observing the battle. They knew better than to underestimate someone who had made Orochimaru wary.

Mufasa, still standing on the water, let out a small chuckle. "Getting impatient already?"

He took a step forward, vanishing in an instant.

A whisper echoed through the night.

"Orochimaru… how about we make a bet?"

Orochimaru's eyes flickered with intrigue. "A bet?"

Mufasa reappeared a few feet away, his smirk never fading. "If your four subordinates can take a single step past me, you win."

Orochimaru scoffed. "You're insane."

Mufasa shrugged. "Maybe. But if you win, I'll help you fix your hands."

Orochimaru's pupils shrank.

The Four Violet Flames Barrier had ensured that no one outside had witnessed his fight against Hiruzen. And yet, Mufasa knew.

He knew about his hands.

Orochimaru remained silent, contemplating the offer. If this man truly had a way to fix his hands, the risk was worth it.

"And if you win?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Mufasa exhaled a cloud of smoke, then flicked the cigarette into the river. "You owe me three favors."

Orochimaru considered for a moment before letting out a slow chuckle. "Heh… fine. I accept."

"Good. Then let's begin."

Orochimaru's subordinates didn't hesitate. At his command, Kidomaru's webs shot forward, closing in like a net. The twins lunged at Mufasa with inhuman speed, their hands coated in raw chakra, ready to strike.

Tayuya gripped her flute tightly, prepared to summon her Doki demons at a moment's notice. Jirobo cracked his knuckles, waiting for the right moment to join in.

The battle had begun.

Sakon and Ukon tightened their grip on Mufasa's arms, their faces lighting up with triumph.

"This is it," Sakon muttered. "He's finished."

The Parasitic Jutsu was already in motion.

Their Bloodline Limit allowed them to break their bodies down at the cellular level, infiltrating their enemies and disrupting their chakra network from the inside. Once it took effect, Mufasa's body would become their puppet, and his fate would be sealed.

Ukon's smirk widened as his body dissolved into a stream of cells, surging through Mufasa's left arm, invading his system like a virus.

Sakon sneered. "Pathetic. Did you really think you stood a chance against us?" His voice dripped with arrogance. "By the time we're done, you'll be nothing more than a mindless dog, crawling at Orochimaru-sama's feet."

Mufasa's expression twisted in disgust. "God, you're ugly. And even uglier when you talk."

His patience snapped. "Get out of my face."

In an instant, a powerful force erupted around him.

Magnetic Repulsion.

The surface of the water beneath Mufasa cratered into a massive bowl-shaped depression. Sakon, still gripping Mufasa's arm, suddenly felt an invisible force wrap around him—unstoppable, crushing, and absolute.

Before he could react, it hurled him backward like a cannonball.

Sakon's scream ripped through the air as he shot across the water, leaving behind a deep, foamy trench. His body skidded for over 300 meters before finally vanishing beneath the surface with an earth-shaking splash.

Orochimaru's eyes widened ever so slightly, his tongue flicking out unconsciously. The sheer force behind that attack… terrifying. "Interesting."

He snapped his fingers. "Kidomaru, Jirobo, Tayuya. Take him down."

Ukon had successfully infiltrated Mufasa's body. All they needed to do now was hold him off long enough for the internal damage to take effect.

The three nodded, activating their Curse Marks simultaneously.

Tayuya's skin darkened, twin horns sprouting from her forehead. She raised her flute, her fingers poised. "You're dead."

The eerie melody of the Magic Flute filled the air.

Summoning Jutsu: Doki Demons.

Three monstrous figures materialized—a headless brute, a long-haired ghoul wielding an iron staff, and a hulking beast with jagged crab-like claws. They wasted no time, descending upon Mufasa like relentless phantoms.

Kidomaru grinned as his skin turned a dark red, the third eye on his forehead snapping open.

"Ninja Art: Armour of Sticky Gold."

A thick, metallic substance oozed from his pores, hardening instantly into an impenetrable golden exoskeleton. The armor neutralized chakra-based attacks, rendering most ninjutsu useless against him.

Jirobo cracked his knuckles, his bulk growing as his muscles swelled. His skin deepened to a crimson hue, his hair lengthening wildly. His raw strength had increased tenfold. "Let's see you tank this."

The trio charged in unison.

Above, the three Doki spirits descended.

From the front, Kidomaru and Jirobo closed in.

On the shore, Tayuya grinned. "Time to lock you down."

Genjutsu: Demonic Flute: Phantom Sound Chains.

A piercing wave of chakra-laced sound rushed toward Mufasa, aiming to ensnare him in an illusion. His vision blurred—his world suddenly turning into a blank, empty void.

Mufasa frowned. "Tch. Annoying."

Electromagnetic Barrier.

A surge of energy flared in his eyes, dispelling the illusion in an instant.

But in that split second—

The Doki monsters' weapons were already within two meters of him.

Kidomaru and Jirobo's attacks were inches away.

The sheer pressure of the incoming assault sent ripples across the water beneath his feet.

Orochimaru watched intently, excitement flickering in his gaze. He licked his lips, his tongue sliding across his skin. "Yes… yes, let's see what you're really capable of."

The final blow was coming.

A barrage of fists, clubs, and iron staff strikes all converged upon Mufasa in a single, overwhelming moment.

Yet, he didn't move.

Like an unshakable mountain, he stood his ground.

He locked eyes with Kidomaru, smirking. "Thanks."

Kidomaru blinked. "Huh?"

Then, he felt it.

Something unseen gripped his body—tight and unrelenting.

Mufasa's right hand curled into a fist, his eyes flashing with blue light.

Magnetic Control.

Kidomaru's golden armor, immune to chakra interference, couldn't change the simple fact that it was made of metal.

Mufasa tightened his grip.

Kidomaru's body twisted unnaturally as if controlled by invisible strings.

Mufasa raised his hand, and with a simple flick of his fingers—

"Fire in the hole!"

Kidomaru shot forward like a human missile, colliding with the three Doki demons at full force.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Each impact sent a monstrous shockwave across the battlefield. The Doki demons shattered into nothingness, dispersing into smoke before they even hit the ground.

Tayuya's genjutsu collapsed instantly.

Kidomaru hit the ground hard, rolling uncontrollably. By the time he came to a stop, his armor was cracked, his limbs broken beyond recognition. He groaned weakly before slipping into unconsciousness.

Mufasa exhaled, shaking off the lingering magnetic charge. He stumbled slightly, his energy momentarily drained, and fell into the river with a quiet splash.

Silence followed.

Orochimaru watched, his expression unreadable.

"That technique…" He tapped his chin, deep in thought. "What a strange ability."

He had seen plenty of chakra-based techniques before—shadow possession, bloodline limits, even sealing jutsu—but this? This was different.

It was weird.

Even someone as inhuman as Orochimaru couldn't shake the odd feeling creeping up his spine. It was rare for anything to make him feel uneasy, and in that sense, Mufasa had achieved something truly remarkable.

"No matter what, Jirobo has completed his task," Orochimaru murmured, his golden eyes narrowing with a mixture of calculation and expectation.

"With him and Sakon, Mufasa's fate is sealed," another voice chimed in, filled with confidence.

Despite everything, Orochimaru still held onto his expectations. He trusted the power of his Cursed Seal. More than that, he had faith in Jirobo's raw strength and Sakon's deadly coordination. Their abilities were formidable, and in his mind, there was no way Mufasa could stand against them.