Chapter 6: A Deal in Blood and Sand

"...Five million ryo."

Zeldris said it like he was ordering lunch.

Sasori blinked. Not because the price was shocking—he was from a village full of mercenaries, after all—but because the sheer audacity of this silver-haired stranger was starting to feel like a genjutsu.

Five million? For what, dying in style?

This guy barely looked older than Sasori himself—if that. And yet here he was, casually tossing out a fee for taking down the Third Kazekage, as if he were offering pest control.

Sasori squinted at him.

"Does this guy know who he's talking about?"

It wasn't like Zeldris gave off Kage-killer vibes. Sure, he had the confidence. But so did a lot of people right before they got pancaked by a sand spear.

Meanwhile, the man himself—the infamous Third Kazekage—was standing with arms crossed and a face that screamed "I've had it with today."

"You're an arrogant little brat, aren't you?" the Kazekage said, his voice sharp and irritated, like someone whose coffee had been replaced with vinegar.

He took a step forward, the weight of his chakra seeping into the air like a slow-building storm.

"First, you show up uninvited. Now you're charging someone to die on your behalf?"

Zeldris let out a soft chuckle and gave the Kazekage a lazy glance.

"Well, Third Kazekage," he said, flashing a grin, "I guess this is where my résumé starts."

The Kazekage's lips twitched.

"Oh, so that's it," he said. "One of those kids. Hungry for fame, thinking they'll make a name by fighting someone bigger than them."

He scoffed.

"Let me give you a free lesson: there's a canyon between Jōnin and Kage." "You're about to fall in."

The air shifted.

With a flare of killing intent, the Kazekage released his chakra—and the desert answered.

Wind roared. Sand spiraled upward in chaotic swirls. The pressure alone made Sasori stagger, still half-recovering from the earlier beatdown.

Even standing to the side, he could feel the sheer power radiating from the Kazekage. It was oppressive—like gravity had decided to double down.

Zeldris didn't flinch.

He just raised an eyebrow slightly, murmuring under his breath, "Stronger than before…"

His tone was curious, not concerned.

Sasori wasn't sure if that made him brave or just insane.

Still on one knee, Sasori tried to gather what little chakra he had left. His puppets were dust. His pride? Barely hanging on.

He didn't trust Zeldris. Not really. But… maybe this mystery guy could buy him a minute. Maybe two, if he was lucky.

All he needed was one opening.

While Sasori plotted, Zeldris turned his head slightly and called over his shoulder:

"Sasori."

His voice was dry. Impatient.

"We sealing this deal or what? I got places to be."

Sasori blinked. Places to be? Did this guy schedule a dentist appointment after this?

Still, despite the sarcasm bubbling in his brain, he gave a short nod.

"…Deal."

The Kazekage visibly twitched.

"You little bastards—!"

His voice thundered like a sandstorm on caffeine.

"You dare treat me like a bargain-bin mission target?!" "Fine! I'll erase both of you from this desert!"

His hands came together with a sharp clap.

"Magnet Release: Iron Sand World Method!"

The earth groaned.

Then came the flood.

A tide of black iron sand burst from the ground like a monster unchained—twisting, swirling, shifting into towering spears and jagged walls. It blotted out the sky, devouring sunlight like it was offended by brightness.

It wasn't an attack.

It was a natural disaster.

Sasori's eyes widened, heart skipping a beat.

"That's… there's no way anyone can dodge that."

And he meant it. This technique was the stuff of legend. It didn't just trap you—it erased you from the world.

Even he, the once-proud puppet master, took an instinctive step back, thinking better him than me.

And yet…

Zeldris didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Didn't care.

He just looked up at the oncoming tidal wave of death and smiled like it was the opening act of a concert he'd been waiting all week for.

"Dodge?" he repeated, tilting his head.

He stepped forward.

Then raised a glowing fist.

"When," he said calmly, "did I give you the illusion…"

The glow intensified—white-hot, dense with compressed energy, almost humming.

"…that I wanted to dodge?"

Then he punched.

Right into the heart of the storm.

The desert screamed.

The sky split open.

And somewhere behind him, Sasori blinked twice and muttered, "Okay. He might actually be insane."

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