Sen's question—"I wonder if any of these people are among you?"—was like a boulder dropped into a tranquil lake, stirring towering waves in everyone's hearts.
Every ninja present was a battle-hardened elite. They instantly understood the chilling possibility behind those words: the enemy might be right beside them, disguised as their most trusted comrades.
A Yamanaka Clan Jonin renowned for his sensory abilities stepped forward with a frown, his tone carrying a hint of professional skepticism. "Lord Sen, identifying spies is no easy task. Especially something like White Zetsu, which is made from the First Hokage's cells and has almost no chakra fluctuations, making it extremely difficult to detect.
Moreover, using an Illusion Technique to control a ninja and probe their memories—especially a strong-willed Jonin—is even harder. One small mistake could trigger a mental backlash—"
He did not finish, because he met a pair of eyes.
They were a pair of crimson Mangekyō Sharingan. The five-pointed stars in their pupils seemed to slowly rotate, transforming into a bottomless vortex.
"Urgh—"
The Yamanaka Jonin felt as though an invisible giant hand had seized his very soul and forcibly dragged it out of his body.
His prideful Mental Power was as fragile as a sheet of thin paper before his opponent.
There was no resistance, no struggle. He could not even form a single thought before his consciousness sank into a crimson world ruled by the other man.
It all happened in an instant.
The next second, his entire body trembled as he suddenly came back to his senses. His back was drenched in cold sweat, and he gasped for air as though a drowning man had been granted new life.
"You're clean." Sen calmly withdrew his gaze, as if he had merely done something insignificant.
The surrounding ninjas, including Nara Shikaku