Behind him, a group of Sand shinobi charged forward with enthusiasm, some of them bearing injuries—clearly they'd just come from battle.
Rasa could only grit his teeth and think:
"Damn it, which genius was in charge of this team?"
Where the hell were you guys earlier, when I actually needed backup? Now that I'm ready to retreat, you show up full of energy?!
And to top it all off…
They brought the Iwagakure shinobi with them?!
"Am I supposed to run again or what?!" Rasa internally screamed in frustration.
He'd made the call to retreat strategically—not because he was afraid. He was Rasa, damn it. Why would he fear a measly bunch of… okay, maybe a lot of Grass-nin.
Really, it was a tactical withdrawal. The situation was turning, especially when the Grass-nin had nearly executed that red-haired girl. He figured it was best to fall back.
But no, just as he was about to escape, these sand-brained comrades came rushing in with a parade of Iwa-nin in tow.
"You're trying to get me killed, huh?!"
If he ran again, he'd risk dragging another battalion of Iwa-nin behind him—rinse and repeat.
Face darkened with irritation, Rasa snapped at the nearest Suna-nin, "Who was it? Who the hell told you to come here?!"
Of all the times to arrive—why now?!
A dust-covered shinobi walked up with a wide smile, kunai in hand, and stood tall.
"It was me, Lord Rasa," said Momu proudly. "As shinobi of Sunagakure, how could we sit by while you were in danger?"
"…"
Thanks so much, you absolute idiot.
Rasa stared blankly at the earnest, dead-serious faces of his comrades—each one beaming like they'd just saved the day. Some of them were wrapped in bandages, coated in sand, clearly injured.
And then he glanced up at the enemy.
Surrounding them now were not only the Grass-nin… but a full formation of Iwa-nin too.
"Brilliant. Just brilliant," Rasa thought, biting back the urge to scream.
So what now?
Leave and abandon his comrades? Let them die while he runs again?
Or leave and let the enemy shift focus to him—again?
Or… stay and fight. Together.
He didn't have much of a choice.
Rasa sighed heavily and glanced at the two cards left in his system inventory.
One was a one-time-use jutsu: Flying Thunder God Technique.
But he hadn't marked any locations. Using it blindly would just teleport him somewhere random—maybe.
The other?
[OK Healing Patches ×6]: Potent disinfecting and blood-stopping bandages. Slight itch relief. Speeds up wound recovery.
"…"
Yeah, that was trash.
Rasa stood quietly, taking in the tense standoff around him. The Suna-nin had taken up defensive positions, eyeing the enemy with determined expressions.
He exhaled and asked softly:
"Anyone got any money?"
I want to cash-in mid-battle.
"???"
The Suna-nin looked confused for a moment, unsure why Lord Rasa would bring this up now of all times… but soon enough, they all dug into their pouches.
One silver coin… three… ten… a few more…
Someone had a single hundred-ryō note, the highest contribution.
Most had nothing but lint.
"…"
Only a little over 6,000 ryō.
Rasa sighed in disappointment and stuffed the paltry earnings into his supply pouch.
"This village really is broke."
At that moment—
"Give it up, Suna-nin!" came a deep, resonant voice from the Iwa-nin formation. A stocky commander with a red forehead protector stepped forward. "You've already lost."
"Bullshit!"
Before Rasa could speak, Momu beat him to it, barking the insult with righteous fury.
"We've lost battles plenty of times, but have you ever seen us surrender?!"
They knew what surrender meant. The consequences for Sunagakure would be devastating.
The rest of the Suna-nin roared their defiance.
After all…
They were Suna-nin—scrappy, shameless, stubborn survivors who never stopped getting back up.
"Then so be it," the commander muttered. Yellowish eyes narrowed as he gave the signal. "Attack!"
If nothing else, Rasa wasn't escaping tonight. Whatever secrets he held—they'd find them out directly.
Almost immediately, the Kusagakure commander followed suit with a shout of his own:
"Kill them all!"
"Earth Release: Earth Flow River!"
"Earth Release: Earth Dragon Bullet!"
"Earth Release: Fissure"
The air filled with hand signs and chakra flares as jutsu detonated on all sides.
Suna retaliated in kind:
"Wind Style: Blade of Air!"
"Wind Style: Vacuum Great Sphere!"
"Wind Style: Sandstorm Formation!"
The battlefield exploded into chaos—sand and dirt flung into the air, violent gales masking visibility. The winds howled through the night, clouding the vision of every shinobi.
But for the Suna-nin?
This was home turf.
They'd trained in storms like this since birth.
So…
"Magnet Release: Sand Gold Concealment Technique."
This was a stealth jutsu Rasa had developed during his time "gold mining" in the desert—an advanced form of cloaking that blended him with airborne particles of gold dust, inspired by Mist Village's Hidden Mist Technique.
In this storm, with no sensor-nin on the field…
He was a ghost.
His body weaved through the storm of sand and chakra, unseen.
Until—
"Behind us! Incoming chakra signature!"
A sharp-eyed Iwa-nin shouted and pointed. "He's flanking us!"
"Earth Style—!"
"—!"
Rasa watched in annoyance as multiple enemy jutsu were hurled blindly in his direction.
"Of course. What battlefield doesn't have sensor-types? Unless…"
"…they just couldn't afford one either."
But it was too late for them now.
This desert?
Was his domain.
Even without a gacha boost, Rasa could go toe-to-toe with Shukaku himself here… sure, it would take everything he had, but still.
He reached out and grabbed the red-haired girl—her eyes wide with shock and fear.
His hand had clamped a little too hard, and now…
There were bite marks on her arm from when she'd reflexively lashed out.
"Great. I'm already serving as a human first-aid kit now."
Rasa ignored her muffled protests as she struggled in his grasp.
He stood atop a rising tide of golden sand, staring down at the stunned Grass and wary Stone shinobi.
"I'm taking her with me. Let's see who's stupid enough to try and stop me."
…Oops. That last bit came out in a different dialect. He coughed, regathered his composure.
"Let's talk this out. Otherwise…"
Before he could finish—
"Kill her."
The cold command echoed across the night.