The Death of the White Fang

In the days that followed, Shaye's life remained immersed in intense yet orderly training and research. Chunin-level chakra gave him wings; his mastery of Wind and Earth nature transformations deepened by the day, while his initial exploration of Magnet Release showed him limitless possibilities. The nightly nurturing sessions in the Body Refining Furnace were equally unwavering, steadily strengthening his foundation.

Yet the ninja world never ceased its turbulence simply because of one person's focus. A sudden piece of news, like a biting cold wind, swept through the major ninja villages and naturally reached the Hidden Sand Village in the Land of Wind.

Konoha's White Fang, Hatake Sakumo, had committed suicide.

The news did not arrive through an official announcement, but spread rapidly among the Hidden Sand Village's ninja through secret channels and wandering ninja, accompanied by all manner of bizarre speculation and sighs.

At first, Shaye did not pay it much attention. What he knew of Konoha's White Fang came only from the occasional fear his father revealed, the hushed dread of the old craftsmen in the Maintenance Unit, and the fact that he was directly responsible for Sasori's parents' deaths. The death of a powerful enemy did not seem like a bad thing for the Hidden Sand Village.

He even heard some Hidden Sand ninja privately applauding, believing that justice had prevailed and that their compatriots who had died at his hands had been avenged.

Until his next visit to the Chiyo Clan to seek guidance in Puppet Technique.

The atmosphere that day was clearly different. Elder Chiyo was not home, so Shaye went straight to Sasori's workshop. The workshop door was slightly ajar. No familiar, rhythmic sounds of carving or assembly came from within—only utter silence.

Shaye knocked on the door, but there was no response. After hesitating for a moment, he gently pushed it open.

Sasori was not at the workbench. Instead, he stood silently before the window with his back to the door, staring at the sky outside, shrouded in windblown sand. His back was drawn taut, like a cold stone, and an even more piercingly frigid aura radiated from him.

"Senior Sasori?" Shaye called softly.

Sasori slowly turned around. His face remained expressionless, but deep within those dark violet eyes churned an emotion Shaye had never seen before—something extraordinarily complex. It was not the satisfaction of vengeance fulfilled, but a darker, more frenzied... emptiness and fury.

"You came." Sasori's voice was terribly hoarse, as though he had not spoken in a long time, or as though he were suppressing a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Shaye immediately sensed that something was wrong and asked carefully, "Are you... all right?"

Sasori did not answer directly. Instead, he stared fixedly at Shaye and abruptly asked, "You heard, didn't you? That man... is dead."

Shaye immediately understood that he meant the White Fang and nodded. "Yes, I heard."

"Dead... hahaha..." Sasori let out a strange, short laugh devoid of any amusement. "He actually died just like that... Suicide? Because of ridiculous rumors and so-called 'rules'? How... absurd!"

His tone suddenly became agitated, his voice rising with an indescribable resentment and distortion.

"How could he die like that?! He should have died by my hand! Beneath the art I carefully crafted for him! His blood and screams should have been an offering to commemorate... But he actually escaped this way! This is an insult to me! A desecration of my parents' deaths!"

Sasori's emotions were nearly out of control. Chakra fluctuated unstably around him, making the parts on the workbench tremble slightly. Shaye watched him in silence, understanding at last. For Sasori, personally killing his enemy had been one of the great obsessions and pillars sustaining his life. The White Fang's suicide had not brought him relief. Instead, it had utterly deprived him of his target for revenge, turning years of accumulated hatred into a destructive emptiness with nowhere to vent.

Then Sasori's emotions abruptly shifted, as though that overwhelming hatred had found a new outlet. His gaze turned incomparably sinister, and his voice hissed like a venomous snake:

"It was all because of that incompetent man! If not for his mistaken command... if he hadn't sent my parents on a mission that was certain to kill them... they never would have encountered the White Fang! It was all his fault! He killed my parents! And now, even my right to revenge has been taken from me... Unforgivable! Absolutely unforgivable!"

Shaye's heart tightened. He knew perfectly well who the "incompetent man" Sasori referred to was—the Hidden Sand Village's supreme leader, the Third Kazekage!

Sasori had actually shifted all his hatred from the dead White Fang entirely onto the Third Kazekage!

That extreme and dangerous thought sent a chill through Shaye. But he did not try to persuade or refute him. He knew that Sasori was completely consumed by hatred at that moment; any words would be futile.

He merely stood there quietly, like a silent witness, watching the genius puppet master sink deeper into the whirlpool of hatred and walk an increasingly obsessive, dark path.

After venting for a while, Sasori seemed to have exhausted all his strength and turned back into that cold stone. He no longer paid Shaye any attention, merely waving a hand to signal him to leave. His back was filled with suffocating loneliness and madness.

Shaye silently left the workshop and gently closed the door behind him.

As he walked home, the wind howled mournfully. Shaye felt somewhat weighed down. The White Fang's death was like the fall of a domino, its chain reaction quietly changing many people's fates.

He knew Sasori's resentment was not unfounded. The Third Kazekage's decisions during the Second Shinobi War had indeed been controversial. But he also knew that such twisted hatred would ultimately drag even its bearer into the abyss.

"Looks like the village's future won't be short on storms." Shaye raised his head and looked toward Kazekage Rock, sighing inwardly.

An oppressive feeling, like a storm about to break, quietly spread through the wind and sand.

(End of Chapter)