Naruto: Hatake's No Misfortune

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The arrival of Muzan brought an unsettling atmosphere to the Land of Craftsmen. No one could predict whether it would lead to fortune or disaster.

"Mr. Muzan, we can agree to the parts customization you requested," said Takumi, a middle-aged man whose technical prowess—rather than combat skills—had earned him the position of village chief. Despite his calm demeanor, unease lingered in his eyes.

"However, we would like to purchase part of the factory and hope to strengthen our cooperation," Takumi added cautiously.

Standing behind Muzan, Yamanosatsu remained silent, his piercing gaze scanning the room and taking note of the villagers' growing hostility.

"The weak should—" Yamanosatsu began, but Muzan raised a hand, silencing him.

"I can agree to your request," Muzan said, his tone calm yet commanding. "However, the sale and construction of the factory will require significant funds. Are you certain you can afford it?"

The production of kunai and shuriken was not vital to Muzan's plans. He had already begun developing advanced weaponry—hidden tools capable of outperforming traditional ninja tools in speed and lethality. While kunai and shuriken would never be entirely obsolete, Muzan intended to monopolize the profits, leaving Takumi and his craftsmen with a thankless burden.

"Rest assured, we have the capability, and funds will not be an issue," Takumi replied, though his confidence felt forced.

The trip to the Land of Craftsmen had gone more smoothly than Muzan anticipated. The custom parts he required would take a month to manufacture due to their precision. Regarding the factory, Muzan demanded that only craftsmen from the Land of Waves handle the construction, barring outsiders from the critical processes. Cornered, Takumi had no choice but to agree.

Finding suitable land for the factory was the next challenge—a task Muzan left to the villagers.

"Mr. Muzan, this area near the volcano is ideal for smelting metal, and the terrain is flat," a villager suggested. But Muzan's attention had shifted to a distant figure—a miner extracting iron ore. Despite his bloated appearance, the man moved with precision, a mechanical tail extending from his back to pierce the ore.

"Sasori…"

The figure wore the red-and-black cloak of the Akatsuki. His stiff face and cold demeanor were instantly recognizable. A top puppet master, Sasori's mastery over hidden weapons and precision tools brought him to the Land of Craftsmen in search of resources.

As if sensing Muzan's gaze, Sasori retracted his tail and turned, his piercing eyes locking onto Muzan. The air grew thick with tension.

Muzan's eyes narrowed, his murderous aura radiating outward. Yamanosatsu stepped forward protectively, weapon in hand, bracing himself against the overwhelming pressure.

"Sasori of the Akatsuki," Muzan said, his voice icy yet composed. "I didn't expect to encounter you here."

The invisible clash between the two sent rocks and sand flying, leaving Takumi and the villagers paralyzed with fear. The village chief realized that if these men had come as enemies, the Land of Craftsmen would have been annihilated.

"I don't know you," Sasori replied, his cold gaze assessing Muzan. Yet the hostility emanating from the man in black left no doubt—this was an enemy.

"It doesn't matter whether you know me," Muzan said, his blood-red eyes glinting with malice. "What matters is that you'll die here today!"

In an instant, Muzan appeared before Sasori, sending the iron ore flying with the sheer force of his movement.

"Boom!"

Their clash generated shockwaves that rippled through the ground, turning debris into deadly projectiles.

"Everyone, get out of here!" Takumi shouted, noticing his bleeding ankle from a stray shard of rock. "You can't stay to watch this!"

The villagers dropped their tools and fled, leaving only the combatants behind.

Yamanosatsu, recovering from the shockwave, watched the battle with a cold expression. Spotting an opportunity, he teleported behind Sasori, confident his vampiric abilities would keep him safe. But he underestimated the puppet master.

"Clang!"

Several poisoned needles shot from Sasori's tail, piercing Yamanosatsu's body. The potent venom coursed through him, causing his muscles to tremble violently. Another strike from Sasori's tail sent him flying.

"Don't interfere with my fight," Sasori warned coldly. Even an elite Jonin would struggle against him. Sasori was momentarily surprised, though—Yamanosatsu had survived the attack.

"Yamanosatsu, keep others out of this battle," Muzan ordered sharply, slicing through Sasori's hidden weapons with ease.

"Yes, Lord Muzan," Yamanosatsu groaned, staggering to his feet. Though his body could heal, purging Sasori's poison would take time.

Sasori's focus returned to Muzan. The man in black was clearly the real threat. With a flick of his wrist, Sasori summoned a scroll, releasing a fleet of puppets. Each was a masterpiece, controlled with precision by chakra threads.

The battle had only just begun.

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Three puppets landed beside Muzan, each moving with an eerie semblance of life under Sasori's expert control. As a master puppeteer, Sasori's precision was flawless, the synchronization between his creations seamless.

Snap!

The humanoid puppet at the forefront lunged at Muzan, every joint a hidden weapon, its structure nearly indestructible. Muzan's sharp eyes caught the glint of hidden mechanisms—poisoned traps ready to strike.

Clang! Clang!

A blade extended from Muzan's hand, its edge whirring as it deflected a barrage of poisoned needles. The needles hit the ground with a hiss, releasing a rancid, black mist.

Sasori watched Muzan carefully, his expression cold but calculating. Even against a combatant as formidable as Muzan, Sasori showed no fear.

But it was clear: three puppets alone wouldn't be enough to contain Muzan.

Despite the resilience of Sasori's creations, each collision left cracks in their armor. Finally, Muzan's relentless assault split the lead puppet clean in two. Its head spun away, only for the severed neck to eject a hidden volley of poisoned needles.

"Earth Style: Earth Flow Wall!"

A towering wall of earth erupted between Muzan and the incoming projectiles, blocking the attack. In the blink of an eye, Muzan was already advancing toward Sasori.

"Blood Demon Art: Black Blood Mandarin Thorn!"

With a venomous hiss, tendrils of black thorns shot forth from Muzan, spiraling toward Sasori with incredible speed. They tore through the remaining puppets, shattering them into splinters. The relentless attack surged forward, threatening Sasori himself.

"Impressive," Sasori remarked, retreating swiftly. "But you've underestimated me!"

Sasori unfurled a scroll, its markings glowing ominously as he summoned his ultimate creation. In a burst of white smoke, the Third Kazekage puppet emerged, standing menacingly before Muzan.

"This is my masterpiece," Sasori declared, his voice laced with pride. "To face him is an honor. The price? Your life!"

Muzan regarded the puppet with narrowed eyes. He could sense the threat emanating from the Magnet Release embedded in the puppet's design.

The ground beneath Muzan trembled as black iron sand rose into the air, forming colossal hands that reached for him.

Boom!

Muzan leaped high into the air, leaving behind his blade, which now quivered under the influence of the Kazekage puppet's magnetic chakra. Sasori smirked, controlling the battlefield with precision.

But Muzan was unfazed. A pale blue light enveloped his hands as he prepared his counterattack.

The iron sand closed in, compressing with lethal force, but Muzan moved with supernatural speed. His chakra-enhanced scalpel slashed through the dense material, cleaving the iron sand in two.

"Hiruko: Needle Barrage!"

Sasori's scorpion-like puppet unleashed a storm of steel needles. The sheer volume and velocity forced even Muzan to act defensively.

Boom!

Muzan extended his flesh and blood, creating a barrier that absorbed the attack. Though discarded, the flesh regenerated effortlessly—a resource Muzan could afford to expend.

"As expected of Sasori of the Red Sand..." Muzan muttered, his voice calm but edged with menace.

The battle reached a tense stalemate. Neither combatant revealed any glaring weaknesses. Both held back their most devastating techniques, assessing each other's abilities.

Sasori, however, had the advantage of the terrain. The iron-rich soil of the Land of Craftsmen bolstered the Third Kazekage's Magnet Release, granting Sasori near-total control of the battlefield.

Muzan studied his opponent. Sasori's Hiruko form, armored and bristling with hidden weapons, was a formidable shield. Defeating it would require overwhelming force.

"You've changed tactics," Sasori taunted, "but it's futile. You're no match for me!"

A gust of wind blew as Hiruko's tail rose behind Sasori, striking directly at Muzan.

"Foolish! You can't stop Hiruko's tail with—"

Before Sasori could finish, a deafening crack echoed. Muzan's fist connected with the tail, shattering it into fragments.

"Impossible!" Sasori exclaimed, momentarily stunned.

Muzan stood tall, his hand bloodied but steady. The sheer force of his strike had broken Hiruko's formidable tail, leaving Sasori vulnerable.

"Poison Broadsword!"

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