Jiraiya's emotions cooled as quickly as they had flared. With his mental fortitude, It was impossible for him to lose his composure over even the most jarring intelligence.
If someone told him that Orochimaru—the man he'd grown up with—was actually a woman, he'd likely stay perfectly cal—
Actually, no. He would definitely freak out over that.
But the news of Sasori and the Third Kazekage, while staggering, was at least within the realm of human comprehension.
Orochimaru remained a "man" for the time being, at least until he started his hobby of body-snatching and giving birth to sons ten months later.
Jiraiya sat back down, his eyes sharp and analytical, stripping away his usual lecherous persona.
"First, a question," he said. "Setting Pakura aside, how can you be so certain the man you saw was Sasori of the Red Sand?"
"Leaf intelligence might have photos of him, but those would be years old. Considering his age when he defected and how much he's changed, even someone who knew him back then would struggle to recognize him at a glance. You're a new face on the battlefield... how are you so sure?"
Jiraiya's skepticism was well-founded. Unlike Pakura, whose information the Sand didn't bother hiding much, Sasori's data was incredibly vague across all villages.
Even if Hagoromo's combat strength was off the charts, his experience and knowledge was still lacking.
Hagoromo replied calmly. "Initially, it was just my intuition. Faced with a puppeteer radiating that much pressure, my first thought was Sasori. Later, he revealed his true face—it matched the descriptions."
"But I have more direct evidence. During the final moments of the clash, the puppeteer was controlling fifty-six puppets simultaneously to attack me," Hagoromo added.
In the ninja world, appearances can be faked, and identities can be forged. But power? Power is hard to spoof. How many ninjas in existence can control more than ten puppets at once?
Fifty-six?
Aside from Sasori, there wasn't a soul alive who could pull that off.
Jiraiya might have doubted Hagoromo's eyes, but he didn't doubt his honesty. Being "family" within the master-student lineage, Jiraiya's bias leaned toward believing him; he just needed the logic to hold up.
As for Hagoromo? While he was dutifully reporting this "vital info," he didn't actually care if Jiraiya believed him or not.
To Him, being a ninja was just a job. You have to do something to stay busy while alive, right? No matter how hard he worked or how many S-rank missions he completed, he would never have the same emotional devotion to the Leaf as Jiraiya.
He wasn't a native, and his ideology wasn't pure. The Will of Fire? The Leaf was just a place to stay.
If he died on the battlefield, it wouldn't be for a noble cause—it would just be because he failed a mission. So, if Jiraiya chose to believe he was just a confused brat who misidentified an enemy, so be it.
He had provided the information. Jiraiya's job was to judge it. Simple as that.
Jiraiya, however, wasn't that paranoid. If someone was out there controlling fifty-six puppets, the identity was obvious: it was the genius puppeteer, Sasori. He nodded tentatively before moving to the second question.
"Assuming it was Sasori, how do you know the puppet was the Third Kazekage? Information about a Kage's appearance isn't in the standard handbook. You shouldn't know what he looked like."
"Sasori said so himself," Hagoromo lied with a straight face.
While most of what Hagoromo said was factually true, that didn't mean it was the whole truth. He was summarizing details he knew from his past life and presenting them as battle-won intel. In reality, Sasori had barely said a word, but Hagoromo "filled in the blanks."
Who was going to double-check with Sasori? Besides, it was the truth.
"First, he identified the puppet. Second, the puppet's techniques were unmistakable—it used Magnet Style."
To prove the Magnet Style claim, Hagoromo had physical evidence.
Black iron sand began to drift from the gourd at his back. Hagoromo's voice continued:
"I have direct proof. This mass of iron sand, still imbued with a specific, lingering chakra, was stripped directly from the Third Kazekage puppet during our fight."
Jiraiya stared at the floating black particles.
In the Leaf, this "look" wasn't entirely unique—Aburame clan members often carried similar gourds and their attacks looked like swarming clouds. But they used bugs. Hagoromo was using iron sand.
Jiraiya knew from Hagoromo's files that the boy could use a technique similar to Magnet Style, but this was his first time seeing it. He also knew it wasn't really Magnet Style, but an application of Lightning Style based on some theory the kid had.
Hagoromo essentially leaked electricity constantly to maintain control.
If this truly was iron sand from the puppet, there wasn't much left to proof. Who else could kill the Third Kazekage and turn him into a tool besides Sasori?
"Then the most important question," Jiraiya said, his voice dropping an octave. "By your account, Sasori used fifty-six puppets to kill you. Facing a monster like that... how did you escape?"
This was the biggest hole. Sasori is someone who killed a Kage, So how are you still breathing?
Hagoromo rolled his eyes. This was the easiest part to explain.
The lightning around his body surged, and the iron sand began a wild, violent dance. Hagoromo didn't answer with words. Instead, he asked:
"Uncle Jiraiya... in this state, setting Sasori aside, if I put my heart into running away... could you catch me?"
As he spoke, the Lightning Style flared like an energy pulse, flashing and intensifying in rhythmic bursts.
Jiraiya went silent.
Was it convincing? Yes, it was.
He knew that unless he entered Sage Mode, he couldn't guarantee catching a Hagoromo who had entered a "Lightning Overload" state and was sprinting like a literal bolt of light. Let alone a puppeteer whose movements were naturally stiff.
Jiraiya finally let out a long breath. He believed him.
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