Jiraiya's Return

Sen Chisato finally achieved his goal.

He decapitated the Sand Ninja, handed the heads over to Sarutobi Hakuba, and buried the remaining corpses.

On the return journey, Sen Chisato watched the system notifications popping up incessantly, his mouth stretching almost to his ears.

One mission, two skirmishes, twenty-five corpses harvested, and a foundation of Chunin-level strength.

Burying these people had slightly reduced the rewards due to the lack of heads, but his chakra had still increased by one unit. Many of the ninjutsu he had previously acquired had also reached maximum proficiency, and he had even obtained a duplicate ninjutsu.

[System Notification]: [You have buried twenty-five ninjas, Chakra +1, Total Chakra: 12 units]

[System Notification]: [You have obtained a duplicate ninjutsu: Wind Style: Great Breakthrough *3. You may synthesize one Wind Style ninjutsu of the same tier. Do you wish to synthesize?]

"Synthesize," Sen Chisato said inwardly, and a flood of knowledge rapidly surged into his mind.

Once he finished absorbing this knowledge, the proficiency of the newly acquired ninjutsu was maxed out instantly, as if he had trained in it thousands of times.

[System Notification]: [You have acquired the ninjutsu: Wind Style: Pressure Damage (Exhales a massive, high-pressure wind sphere from the mouth that sweeps away everything in its path. The resulting gale acts like a high-pressure heavy cannon, causing massive damage to the terrain within its range upon detonation.)]

This technique... it seems to be the one used by that old man Kakuzu. Recalling the overwhelming effects he had seen when Kakuzu used this technique in his past life, Sen Chisato felt a wave of exhilaration.

Sure enough, the battlefield was the greatest "wheat field." He hadn't even waited for the full-scale war to begin; just this single mission had yielded more than his entire year in Konoha.

"Hey, kid, stop smiling. Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

Just as Sen Chisato was immersed in his joy, Sarutobi Hakuba's voice brought him back to reality.

"What?" he asked subconsciously, turning his head to see Sarutobi Hakuba looking quite displeased.

"I said, from now on, when facing enemies, put away some of that mercy," Sarutobi Hakuba warned sternly. "And this time, I'll let it slide, but in the future, when you need to recover enemy corpses, you must, absolutely must, recover all of them!"

"Most of a ninja's intelligence is in their brain. What use is the corpse? Isn't burying them on the spot the best way to handle it?" Sen Chisato pouted.

"Besides, if I don't bury them, I won't be able to sleep. Even if we are enemies, I want to preserve their last shred of dignity... just consider it my final act of kindness as a human being." As he said this, he sighed desolately, looking sincere and earnest.

Hearing this, Sarutobi Hakuba's expression turned strange.

Burying enemies could indeed be called kindness, even for ninjas who viewed themselves as tools, as they still valued the idea of resting in peace.

But to achieve this, you separated their heads from their bodies—is that really called preserving dignity?

It felt like this "kindness" was starting to go bad.

Seeing the Konoha camp in sight, Sarutobi Hakuba shook his head and said nothing more.

Some things could only be understood through constant experience. Sen Chisato's strength was certainly sufficient, but his mindset was not yet that of an excellent ninja, especially during wartime.

The four of them landed in front of the camp, and after rigorous checks and identity verification, they headed straight for the command center.

The command tent was packed with people. Orochimaru sat in the main seat, with several Sand Ninja heads resting on the table in front of him.

Seeing the four enter, Orochimaru nodded. "You've returned."

"Yes. We encountered two groups of Sand Ninja and have eliminated them all. These are the heads of the Jonin from the second group."

Sarutobi Hakuba finished his report solemnly and placed the heads on the table.

Orochimaru shifted his gaze to a yellow-haired ninja. "Inoichi."

"Yes." Yamanaka Inoichi took the heads and performed his clan's secret technique on the spot, preparing to uncover the purpose of these Sand Ninja.

However, not long after, Yamanaka Inoichi's face turned pale, and his technique was interrupted.

Facing the gathered gazes, he shook his head. "Apologies, just like before, these Sand Ninja have had curse seals planted in their brains."

"Tch, what a pain," Nara Shikaku said, looking disappointed.

Since the Sand Ninja infiltrated the rear of Konoha, more than a dozen groups had been detected and confirmed, each ranging from three to five people to as many as twenty. That wasn't even counting the ones that hadn't been discovered.

The key was that these Sand Ninja were completely scattered like loose sand, with no clear focus, making it impossible to determine their logic or purpose.

"Could it be that they want to disrupt our rear, preventing us from focusing all our attention on the front lines, so they can launch an all-out attack?" Yamanaka Inoichi considered a possibility.

"Impossible!"

Nara Shikaku shook his head, glanced at Orochimaru, and said, "If it were before, they might have succeeded. But now that Lord Orochimaru is guarding the front line, the chances of Sunagakure winning are slim. That old hag Chiyo wouldn't agree to such a strategy."

In the corner, Sen Chisato was also thinking.

In his memory, of the four Great Ninja Wars, all but the fourth were actually quite vague, with many details left unsaid.

In the original work, there were only a few battles during the Third Shinobi World War that were depicted in detail, and even those were only shown through the lens of specific characters.

Besides, after his interference, many things couldn't possibly happen as they did originally. For instance, with this Sand Ninja infiltration, in the original story, Orochimaru would have been holed up in the village at this time. Now that Orochimaru was here, who knew what would happen.

Just then, accompanied by a hearty laugh, a tall ninja walked into the tent.

"Hahaha, Orochimaru, it's quite lively over here. Your defensive line has been poked full of holes. Just as Minato and I were rushing back from the rear, we ran into two waves of Sand Ninja."

The newcomer wore ninja plate armor, his figure tall and upright, his white hair standing up like a hedgehog's. Two streaks of oil paint were drawn under his eyes, and his bold, uninhibited smile carried a hint of mischief.

Behind him followed a young man with yellow hair, whose bright smile was as dazzling as the sun.

Seeing these two, Sen Chisato's eyes lit up as if he were looking at a pair of rare treasures.

At this very moment, labels like "Sage Mode," "Flying Raijin," "Mount Myoboku Contract," and "Sealing Jutsu" popped up in his mind.

If he were to bury this master and apprentice, how many rewards would that generate?

Sen Chisato sank into his fantasies, various ways for these two to die flickering through his mind.

The people in the tent were all filled with pleasant surprise.

"Lord Jiraiya, you've finally returned! And Minato, you've arrived as well; this is truly wonderful."

"Lord Orochimaru." Namikaze Minato bowed slightly in greeting, then looked toward the others. "Senior Shikaku, Senior Inoichi, it has been a long time."

Orochimaru let out a huff, showing no face as he remarked, "If you hadn't been so lax, insisting on staying behind to teach some disciples, the situation wouldn't have deteriorated to this point."

His words were full of blame, but Sen Chisato, who knew Orochimaru well, understood that Orochimaru was actually quite pleased at the moment.

"Haha, but I'm here now, aren't I?" Jiraiya scratched his head awkwardly and changed the subject. "I heard you've taken on another disciple; that's not very common for you."

"When it comes to educating students, I have plenty of confidence. How about it? Do you want to have your disciple spar with mine?" Jiraiya threw an arm around Namikaze Minato's shoulder and provoked him with a wink.

Namikaze Minato shrank his neck under the weight of Jiraiya's arm and offered a sheepish reminder, "Teacher, I heard Lord Orochimaru's disciple is only ten years old."

Regardless of anything else, he was a battle-hardened ninja; how could he possibly compete against a ten-year-old child? Even the disciples in his own squad were older than ten.

"Ah, is that so?" Jiraiya clicked his tongue.

He and Orochimaru had been comrades and friends for many years. Since childhood, Orochimaru had been a genius who crushed him in every aspect, and it wasn't until he later entered Mount Myoboku that his strength slowly began to catch up.

Throughout their history of rivalry, he had lost far more than he had won. When he first heard that Orochimaru had taken a disciple, he had hoped to finally get the upper hand over him in this regard.

As it turned out, it was just a ten-year-old brat.

There was nothing to be done about that. He clicked his tongue and muttered, "Boring."

Orochimaru saw right through the man's thoughts. The corner of his mouth curled up as he looked toward the corner. "Chisato, someone wants to spar with you. How about it? Do you want to have a match with Minato?"

Following Orochimaru's gaze, everyone turned to look at the corner.