Failure

However, he was ultimately too confident in his abilities.

Faced with the surging guards like ocean waves, and the closely following Anbu, Scorpion couldn't help but feel a sense of despair.

Struggling on is nothing but courting death.

Left with no other choice, he had to leave his hometown and flee the Village of Sunagakure.

"From now on, I will be all alone..." Scorpion murmured to himself.

For him, loneliness was also a kind of happiness, because he had puppets to keep him company.

Even without close friends, comrades, or anything else, having a puppet for company is enough.

The scorpion raced forward with all its might, silently counting the distance in its mind.

Just one more mile and we'll escape our confinement; this short stretch of road is all that's left!

Now that we're back on the ground, we should be safe and sound!

Once the decision was made, the scorpion resolutely broke through the soil, shook off the dirt from its hair, and launched its final sprint.

The wounds on his body throbbed with the exertion, but the surge of adrenaline instantly dispelled the pain, relieving him in the slightest.

Closer, closer, victory is within reach. Thankfully, the pursuers haven't noticed him...

The ragged but agile boy leaped across the sand dunes like an arrow released from a bow, his hands Hand Seals a hand seal, and a gigantic puppet instantly appeared beneath his feet.

He landed firmly on the puppet, his feet firmly planted on the ground, and with a wave of his arm, commanded with great enthusiasm, "Charge!"

The puppet flapped its wings as if about to take flight, stirring up countless clouds of dust, and soared into the air, carrying him rapidly toward the top of the cliff.

Just as Scorpion was confidently about to soar into the sky, a chill ran through his chest, followed by a sudden, sharp pain.

His figure seemed to be mysteriously sealed, while the puppet propelled forward by inertia.

"How... how could this be?" He looked down in disbelief, only to see a cold metallic glint shining from his chest, stained with blood.

The scorpion's eyes instantly lost their former sharpness and luster.

He tried to rally his spirits, but his consciousness was like a candle flickering in the wind, wavering and uncertain, and his strength was gradually waning.

Despair welled up in his heart; he knew that this time, he might truly not survive.

But the flames of revenge still burned fiercely in his heart, and he refused to succumb to fate.

His parents' smiling faces flashed through his mind; their radiant smiles seemed like yesterday. He couldn't give up now; he had to persevere and complete his unfinished path of revenge.

Blood, like a crimson flower blooming in the dark night, suddenly spurted from the corner of his lips, staining every speck of dust in the air.

His heart clenched instantly, as if gripped by an invisible claw, and his breath felt as if it were being choked, suffocating him and preventing him from breathing freely.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, and my limbs felt as if they had been stripped of their bones, hanging limply at my sides.

With a dull thud, he collapsed onto the puppet, his arms trembling uncontrollably as he struggled to prop up his swaying body.

"When... and who is the murderer?" He turned around, trembling, and saw several shadowy figures silently appear behind the tree, waiting for their chance to deliver a fatal blow.

It's infuriating that these Anbu, moving silently and stealthily, have crept here, only to strike mercilessly when he reveals a weakness.

A wave of regret washed over him, and Scorpion cursed himself inwardly for his carelessness, but remorse was of no use at this point.

He must find a way to escape, or all his efforts will be in vain.

He gritted his teeth, maneuvered the puppet, and used his last bit of strength to dodge the incoming attacks.

Several Kunai deep into his legs, causing excruciating pain, but compared to the severe damage to his heart, these were merely minor torments.

He pressed his trembling hand to the wound in his heart, trying to stop the bleeding; at that moment, excruciating pain churned wildly within him like a knife.

Everything went black, and consciousness vanished instantly.

The puppet, having lost control of its Chakra, fell off the cliff along with its unconscious master.

The wind howled in his ears, and the scorpion's body fell like a withered leaf, yet in that dark abyss of the soul, the Kakkō of survival still flickered faintly.