northernbook Chapter 539 Annual Death-Seeking Award
Chapter 539 Annual Death-Seeking Award
A hint of helplessness, mixed with amusement, appeared on Sakumo Hatake's face.
Looking at the young Sand Ninja who was spouting nonsense at him, he remained calm and undisturbed.
"White-haired brat... are you talking about me?"
He muttered to himself, then shook his head.
"It seems that the name 'Konoha's White Fang' has indeed been forgotten by the ninja world for far too long."
Instead of retreating, they walked step by step towards the direction of the Scorpion Sand Squad.
That composed demeanor didn't seem like he was walking towards a dozen menacing enemies; it was more like he was taking a leisurely stroll in his own courtyard at dusk.
Seeing this, Scorpion Sand's ferocious smile deepened.
In his view, this was nothing more than the arrogance deeply ingrained in the bones of the Konoha ninjas.
Even as death approaches, he still tries to appear calm.
"Heh heh, you'll pay the price for your arrogance!"
Scorpion Sand let out a hoarse roar and swung his raised hand down suddenly!
"superior!"
At a single command, the twelve Sand Village ninja sprang into action.
They have been working together in the desert for many years and have developed a deep-rooted tacit understanding.
"Wind Release: Wind Killing Formation!"
"Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!!"
"Wind Release: Wind Slicing Technique!!"
"....."
The three ninjas at the forefront completed their hand seals almost simultaneously. Three wind-style ninjutsu, each with different properties but equally deadly, blocked Sakumo's advance and retreat routes from three different angles in a triangular formation.
The gale whipped up yellow sand, turning it into countless tiny sand blades that lashed out at us relentlessly.
Following closely behind was a saturation attack from several ninjas.
"Swish! Swish! Swish!"
The senbon needles and shuriken, coated with potent poison, streaked across the dim light, like dense raindrops, covering every gap between the wind-style ninjutsu.
At the rear of the group, two puppeteers moved their ten fingers in unison, and chakra threads flashed through the air.
The two grotesque puppets beside them instantly came to life, opening their mouths, which were covered in mechanisms, and spewing out a large number of poison needles that shimmered with a ghostly blue light!
In an instant, countless shuriken, poisoned senbon needles, howling sandstorms, and poisoned needles spewing from the puppets' mouths formed an impenetrable, all-encompassing net of death, completely enveloping the slowly approaching white figure from all directions.
This was an ambush formation they had practiced countless times, enough to throw any rash ninja into a panic, ultimately leading to their being corroded by the poison and cut to pieces by the wind blades under the endless attacks.
Faced with this saturation attack that could change the very fabric of the world, Sakumo's movements remained unchanged.
He didn't even draw the iconic short knife behind him.
"blow--"
His body swayed only slightly.
A blur, almost invisible to the naked eye, remained motionless for a fraction of a second.
The next second, he was already at the far left edge of the attack network.
With a light touch of his toes on the soft sand, his body moved with unparalleled grace, weaving through the gaps in those deadly attacks.
His actions were not those of a fighter.
It's more like a dance.
A dance performed on the edge of a knife and above death, dedicated to the desert and the raging wind.
He would occasionally turn slightly to the side, letting a row of poisoned sages brush against the hem of his clothes, causing the fabric to tremble slightly.
He would sometimes bend down gently, letting the violent sandstorm, powerful enough to tear rocks apart, rush over his head and ruffle a few strands of his long, silvery-white hair.
He even had the leisure to extend his right hand and flick his finger between the two attacks.
"Ding!"
A clear, crisp sound rang out.
A shuriken aimed precisely at his face was flicked away by his fingertips, spinning as it flew into the sand beside him.
The entire process was smooth and graceful, filled with an indescribable beauty and composure.
The Sand Village ninjas who attacked them were all stunned.
The maniacal laughter on Sasori's face froze.
The ferocity on the faces of his teammates behind him turned into astonishment.
I have never seen such an elegant and effortless way of dodging.
In their eyes, the white-haired man seemed to have completely merged with the wind in this desert. All attacks were as if they were drawn away by an invisible force, deliberately deviating from his body, and not even a hem of his clothes could be touched.
"Impossible...this is impossible!"
A Sand Ninja responsible for controlling the puppet was horrified to discover that the angle of each of the dozens of poison needles he fired had been precisely calculated, yet not a single one of them managed to touch the opponent.
That man could always make the slightest, most appropriate dodge just before the poisoned needle arrived, not a fraction more, not a fraction less.
That's not dodging at all.
This was clearly a prediction!
It was as if... this man had personally planned out the trajectory of their attack, ensuring it would miss!
After a round of saturation attacks, the sandy ground was left with a mess of craters and weapons stuck in it.
The white-haired man remained standing in the same spot, his clothes neat and spotless.
It was as if the thrilling ambush just now was just an illusion.
Dead silence.
Even the sound of the wind seemed to stand still at that moment.
The dozen or so Sand Ninjas' breathing became heavy. They looked at the unharmed man, and a chill ran from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads.
Fear began to spread in their hearts.
"What's the panic!"
Just then, a young Chunin behind Sasori, seemingly to bolster his own courage and to encourage his comrades, blushed and shouted loudly.
"Don't panic, everyone! Our captain's here!"
His voice cracked slightly from excitement.
"Don't forget, Captain Sasori easily suppressed this powerful figure named Kakashi Hatake on the battlefield of the Land of Lightning!"
"What can a mere white-haired brat do to deserve this?!"
These words were like a shot in the arm, instantly rousing the hearts of the other Sand Ninja who were somewhat wavering.
"That's right! The captain is here!"
"That kid's just a bit unpredictable! Let's go again, he definitely won't be able to dodge!"
"Captain! Give the order!"
Several Sand Ninja echoed his sentiments, their fighting spirit rekindled, and they placed their hopes on their captain.
However, they found nothing.
Captain Sasori, whom they regarded as their spiritual pillar, froze completely when he heard the words "easily suppress Kakashi Hatake".
A bead of cold sweat, the size of a bean, slid down his forehead, down his nose, and dripped onto the scalding yellow sand, evaporating instantly.