The radar station's yellow warning lights were spinning wildly in circles.
A blinding yellow light swept across the control panel, illuminating the operator's oily face, glistening with the weariness of sleepless nights.
The operator was startled and dropped the rough porcelain teacup he was holding.
The tea spilled onto his crotch, scalding him and making him wince.
He didn't bother wiping himself; he pressed his hands firmly against the lever and pushed down hard.
The siren pierced the night sky outside the village.
A mournful sound swirled in the cold wind.
The perimeter of Konoha Heavy Industries base.
A person was standing on the corrugated iron roof of Assembly Workshop No. 3.
A boy of fifteen or sixteen years old with red hair.
He wore a large, black sand-colored cloak that fluttered in the night wind.
Sasori of the Red Sands.
He lowered his head, looking down at the brightly lit factory area.
A strong smell of engine oil and coal smoke assaulted his nostrils. Scorpion frowned in disgust.
He took a clean white cloth out of his pocket and covered his nose with it.
"A chaotic mess." Sasori's voice was clear and crisp, with a hint of puberty-induced hoarseness. "Is this Konoha's new toy?"
He looked down at the pipes and rails emitting high-pressure steam.
His face was full of disdain.
I heard that Konoha has developed some kind of heavy industry and built a bunch of metal shells.
The Daimyo of the Land of Wind even cut the puppeteers' military budget to buy fertilizer and firearms from Konoha.
This scorpion has really angered you.
As a puppetry genius that only appears once every few centuries in Sunagakure, he couldn't bear to see a great art being replaced by a pile of dead metal.
He sneaked in tonight just to smash this junk.
We'll show the entire Shinobi World what kind of lousy machinery this is.
Faced with sophisticated Puppet Technique, they are nothing but a pile of immobile wooden stakes.
Scorpion's hands emerged from under his cloak.
Spread your ten fingers.
A faint blue Chakra shone from his fingertips, drawing out more than a dozen extremely thin beams of light.
The Chakra Threads flicked downwards.
"Crackling."
In the darkness, a dozen or so life-sized wooden puppets stood up, following the Chakra Threads.
Exquisitely crafted. The joints are made entirely of specially made hardwood and use bearings for interlocking.
It was covered with a black cloth. Its limbs sprang out, revealing several poisoned blades that gleamed with a purple light.
A deadly poison that kills instantly upon contact with blood. This is a stockpile that the scorpion has been storing for three months.
"Go." Scorpion's fingers twitched slightly.
A dozen or so puppets leaped off the roof like ghosts.
"Splash!"
The workshop's exhaust window was smashed open. Glass shards were scattered all over the floor.
The puppets stormed directly into the workshop.
A few dim, yellowish incandescent lights illuminated the workshop.
There are no workers here. This is a closed warehouse at night.
Scorpion jumped off the roof. His leather boots made a dull thud on the concrete floor of the workshop.
His fingers flew across the paper.
The puppets brandished poisoned blades, slashing at the machine tools on both sides of the assembly line.
He's going to smash this place to pieces.
"Thump. Thump. Thump."
Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed from deep within the workshop.
Those are not human footsteps.
It was the sound of a several-ton iron lump hitting a concrete floor.
The ground shook. A box of rusty nuts on the shelf was shaken off and fell to the ground, clattering and rolling around.
Scorpion's fingers paused.
The puppet's blade stopped in mid-air.
He turned his head, his gaze passing through the dimly lit corridor and looking towards the end of the workshop.
A plume of white, high-pressure steam shot out.
Then, a colossal object five meters tall appeared.
A bluish-gray Chakra Mecha emerged from the shadows.
The armor plating was covered with rough, fish-scale welds and large rivets.
Inside the glass enclosure on his chest, the Four Symbols Reactor glowed with a ghostly blue light.
The red electronic eye spun around and locked onto the scorpion standing in the middle of the machine.
Scorpion looked up at the steel monster that was several times his size.
He was taken aback for a moment.
Then, a cold laugh twitched at the corner of his mouth.
"Is this Konoha's trump card?"
Scorpion shook his head, his face full of disappointment.
"Too bulky. What's the point of being so big? It's full of blind spots."
His fingers tightened suddenly.
"I can disassemble this piece of scrap metal in three seconds."
The scorpion flicked its finger forward.
More than a dozen puppets sprang up like grasshoppers, swarming towards the mech from all directions.
Inside the mech's cockpit.
A commoner Chunin who had just finished using the toilet was holding half a cold, half-eaten cornbread in his hand.
He heard the alarm and hurriedly crawled into the cockpit. The hose had just been connected.
Looking up, I saw more than a dozen little wooden figures flying over the screen.
The Chunin took a bite of the cornbread and stuffed the rest into his pocket.
Grip the cast iron control lever with both hands.
"Where did this petty thief come from?" he muttered, not taking it too seriously.
Outside.
Scorpion manipulated three puppets to circle behind the mech, aiming at the hydraulic levers on the knees.
The remaining nine puppets opened their mouths.
The wooden jaw dislocated, revealing a dense network of mechanisms and pipes inside.
"Launch." Scorpion flicked his fingers.
"Whoosh whoosh!"
A torrential downpour of Senbon spewed from the puppet's mouth.
Hundreds of slender steel needles, each tip coated with a purplish-black venom.
With a sharp whistling sound, it slammed into the mech in a full-coverage manner.
Scorpions have absolute self-confidence.
The penetrating power of the Senbon, combined with his specially made corrosive venom, can melt ordinary steel plates in a second.
Once the venom seeps into the gears, this lump of iron will turn into a pile of scrap.
"Jingle bells!"
A series of sharp, rapid impacts echoed through the workshop.
It was like countless hailstones hitting an iron pot, so loud it hurt your ears.
Hundreds of poisoned Senbon struck the mech's bluish-gray armor with resounding force.
There was no puncture. There was no corrosion.
The slender steel needle bent instantly upon contact with a special steel plate two fingers thick.
The needle tip broke.
Then it bounced off weakly and fell onto the concrete floor, scattering everywhere.
Not even a tiny patch of primer the size of a fingernail had peeled off the mech's armor plates.
The purplish-black venom was plastered onto the steel plate.
The steel plate was too thick, and the temperature was too low. The venom had no corrosive effect at all; it could only drip down the cold, sticky sheet of iron.
A drop of oil fell into the oil slick next to the track. Two bubbles appeared, then nothing more.
The scorpion froze.
His ten fingers hovered in mid-air, the Chakra Threads trembling slightly.
That's impossible.
His prized armor-piercing poison needles didn't even leave a white mark?
Just how thick is the iron skin of Konoha?!
Inside the mech's cockpit.
The Chunin heard a crackling sound outside.
He glanced at the status panel.
Armor damage: zero.
He yawned and gripped the control stick with both hands.
Push it forward.
The five-meter-tall Chakra Mecha moved.
The exhaust valve on his right shoulder emitted a long "hiss--" sound.
The scalding steam sprayed all over a nearby puppet, directly heating its wooden joints until they started to smoke.
The giant mechanical arm slowly rose.
Five thick, steel fingers clenched into a fist.
The gears meshed wildly, producing a teeth-grinding grinding sound.
Scorpion's eyelids twitched violently.
He sensed that terrifying physical pressure.
"Spread!"
He frantically pulled at the Chakra Threads with his ten fingers, trying to pull back the elite puppets surrounding the mecha's feet.
The one at the very front is the third-generation puppet he painstakingly created over six months.
Its chest was inlaid with hard diamond wood, and covered with rhinoceros hide.
The line has just been taut.
The mech's right fist had already slammed down.
With overwhelming wind pressure, it blew all the broken glass on the ground into the air.
There was no aiming. There were no fancy martial arts techniques.
It relies on its own weight of tens of tons and hydraulic transmission to relentlessly crush downwards.
"Boom!"
The giant steel fist slammed solidly into the third-generation puppet.
"Snap!!!"
A terrible cracking sound of wood bursting open.
Diamond wood is like a fragile soda cracker in the face of steel.
The rhinoceros hide exploded.
The entire puppet, including the poison tubes, wires, and bearings inside.
That punch instantly blasted him into countless flying wood chips.
The fist smashed the puppet to pieces. Its momentum didn't diminish as it slammed heavily onto the concrete floor.
The impact created a crater half a meter deep in the ground. Spiderweb-like cracks spread outwards.
The violent shockwave sent splinters of wood and dust flying everywhere.
Like flying knives, they were splashed outwards in a barrage.
A few pieces of broken wood with sharp spikes, mixed with dust.
It slammed right into Sasori of the Red Sands's face.