"Mm, where was this?"
Sasori of the Red Sands opened his sleepy eyes and stared at the pitch-black ceiling above him, mumbling to himself in a daze.
The next second, his gaze abruptly sharpened. With a flip, he crouched halfway up on the bed and warily scanned his surroundings. "A Konoha prison?"
His memories still lingered on that pair of spinning Three-Tomoe Sharingan. The other party had been completely concealed in black, but that feature had been far too obvious.
Just then, faint footsteps sounded from the doorway, as though someone was slowly approaching.
Sasori of the Red Sands's eyes turned cold. He quickly searched his entire body but found only a single scroll, bearing the three words: "Father and Mother."
"That's right. Most of my puppets were already damaged in the previous battles."
He had first been ambushed last night, then fought two fierce battles in a row. He had not brought many puppets with him to begin with, and now he was even more severely lacking.
With no time for sentiment, he swiftly took out these two creations from when he had first learned the Puppetry Technique. With a flick of his fingers, blue chakra threads connected to their joints. The three figures leaped up onto the rafters together, staring intently at the door.
A moment later.
Creak—
The door gently swayed, its aged hinges letting out a long, grating groan as they turned. A figure whose back seemed vaguely familiar to Sasori pushed the door open and entered.
Since he was hanging upside down from the ceiling directly above the wooden door, he could not see the person's face clearly. But that did not matter. Every person from Konoha deserved to die!
Thus, in the next instant, Sasori slightly raised his fingertips. Blades sprang from the arms