Sasori of the Red Sands
In this closely adjacent room, the heavy curtains were tightly closed, forming an insurmountable wall that completely blocked out the noise and dappled light of the outside world.
The entire room was shrouded in an intense, impenetrable darkness, ruthlessly stripping away all light and hope.
In the very center of the room stood an enormous bed, its once neatly folded bedding now scattered haphazardly to one side, clearly indicating that a thrilling and intense struggle had just taken place.
At this very moment, the boy who should have been immersed in his dreams is struggling in a nightmare vortex.
His delicate brows were furrowed tightly, and heavy, rapid breathing came from his mouth. Each labored breath seemed to be a struggle against an invisible and powerful force.
In this endless darkness where you can't see your hand in front of your face, his thin and frail figure appeared so lonely, desolate, and powerless.
"Koki!" Suddenly, a cry filled with pain pierced the deathly silence of the room like a sharp sword, and the boy's beautiful, star-like eyes snapped open.
Those eyes were clear and transparent, like a crystal-clear spring, yet they contained not a trace of life, but rather a blank and lost look, revealing the endless despair deep within the boy's soul.
His crimson hair fell haphazardly across his translucent skin, the streaks of crimson adding a touch of poignant beauty and eeriness to his already breathtakingly beautiful face.
His breathing became unusually rapid, his chest heaving violently, as if he were desperately struggling to escape the endless terror brought on by that horrific dream.
A commotion arose next door, and in an instant, a cold and resolute killing intent flashed in the boy's previously dull eyes.
"So noisy... it's really so noisy..." the boy muttered to himself.
At this moment, he wished he could get up immediately and rush over to slaughter all those who were making this annoying noise!
But... reason told him that now was not the time.
The boy still suppressed his impulse, lying quietly on the bed, his body taut like a fully drawn bow, his lifeless pupils reflecting the ceiling.
The noise from next door showed no signs of abating, relentlessly assaulting the boy's heart, which was already on the verge of collapse.
His brow furrowed slightly, revealing his annoyance and disgust, and his eyes burned with fierce anger, shooting straight at the source of the noise.
The faint, intermittent noise now sounded so jarring and unbearable, constantly pricking the sensitive and fragile nerve endings of the boy.
With the resolute thought of burying the two people next door together, Scorpion's eyes were as cold as ice. He resolutely threw off the covers and leaped up.
His movements carried an undeniable urgency; with the rise and fall of his body, his clothes fluttered, revealing the captivating contours of his neck and delicate collarbone in the light.
The pink bruises pressed into his fair chest looked particularly alluring in the dim light, yet they formed a stark contrast to his current anger.
The boy rolled out of bed, his feet stepping onto the luxurious carpet on the floor. The delicate texture did not bring him the expected comfort; instead, it added to his unease.
With a "whoosh," Sasori of the Red Sands abruptly pulled open the curtains of the room.
The rain had stopped, and the brilliant sunlight poured down like a waterfall, illuminating his delicately sculpted face. His features were like a work of art meticulously crafted by a master craftsman, so beautiful that it was difficult to tell his gender.
Scorpion stood silently by the window, letting the sunlight bathe him, yet there was no warmth in his eyes, only a cold and aloof indifference. His icy gaze seemed to say that the destruction of the entire world would have nothing to do with him.
"Bring Hanzo of the Salamander over here!"
"Yes," the subordinate replied tremblingly, then hurriedly left.
Soon, Hanzo of the Salamander entered the room. He was tall and imposing, his black cloak accentuating his imposing figure, and his eyes flashed with sharpness and solemnity.
"Is there something you need?" he asked, his tone not exactly gentle, but a world of difference compared to the coldness and contempt he showed Danzo.
"When are you going to finish what I asked you to do? With such incompetence, I don't mind finding another partner." Scorpion, sitting in the main seat of the room, bluntly rebuked him.
"You!" Hanzo of the Salamander was burning with anger, but he still managed to suppress his emotions. He knew that the person in front of him was not someone to be trifled with.
During World War II, that was his peak period. At that time, he was full of vigor and prestige, and with the deadly poison of the Ibuse and his powerful Ninjutsu, he became a renowned figure in the Shinobi World.
He once attempted to attack Sunagakure, inflicting heavy damage on the village. The ninja sent by Sunagakure was the puppet old woman he still can't forget.
The old woman was still very young at the time, but her strength was already at its peak. The two met in the wilderness outside Sunagakure and immediately began a fierce battle.
Hanzō, while the puppet old woman manipulated her puppets, skillfully dodging the gas attacks and constantly looking for an opportunity to counterattack.
The battle lasted a long time, with both sides giving it their all.
Hanzo of the Salamander's poisonous gas permeated the entire battlefield, striking fear into the hearts of all, while the Puppet Granny's puppets, like ghosts, relentlessly attacked from all directions.
However, the two were evenly matched, and neither could defeat the other in a short time. As the battle progressed, Hanzo of the Salamander discovered that the old woman was gradually getting used to his poison gas and was even studying his poison techniques during the battle.
Finally, after countless battles, the old woman actually developed an antidote for his poison and also found his weakness: he had to charge up his power for five minutes before he could use the poison of the Ibuse.
If the enemy discovers this weakness, it will undoubtedly be fatal to him!
Left with no other choice, Hanzo of the Salamander had to retreat from Sunagakure with his men. That battle, however, became a permanent pain in his heart.
Thinking of this, Hanzo of the Salamander suppressed his anger and kept reassuring himself, "It's alright, it's alright. Before long, that old puppet woman will fall into the hands of me... no! I mean her grandson!"
If I'm kind enough, maybe I can leave her with a whole corpse!
He told himself that now was not the time to turn against the other party; he had to be patient. Only by being patient could he wait for the right opportunity to regain his dignity and honor.
Who told this seemingly harmless young man to be the only one capable of defeating that old woman?
"Give me some more time, and I will definitely complete the task you assigned me." Hanzō lowered his head.
A brief silence fell over the room. "Fine, I'll give you one more chance. But if you disappoint me again, you know the consequences."
"Thank you," Hanzo of the Salamander replied, then turned and left the room.