Seijuro would then create a perfect copy of Rōshi on the floor. As for the main body—well, you see, he sealed it away. He'd sell that shit later for some good money.

Now, let's wait for Han to arrive.

Time skip: 6 minutes later.

Han arrived in a blur of silver and red steam, fists glowing with chakra-enhanced Taijutsu. The Five-Tails Jinchūriki, armored in reinforced plate, locked eyes with death.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Han roared, launching forward with full momentum.

Seijuro calmly sidestepped—barely—the charging juggernaut.

The earth split from the aftershock.

Han swung again.

And Seijuro caught his fist. With one hand... no... one finger.

"Not bad," he muttered. "But predictable."

Fuinjutsu: Shikoku Gentei

(Four-Limbed Binding)

Black chains erupted from the ground, spiraling upward around Han's limbs and torso, locking him mid-swing. Chakra suppressant sigils glowed across the chains.

Han's eyes widened. "This is—!"

"Yeah," Seijuro nodded, eyes glowing faintly behind his Aizen mask. "You're sealed too."

He walked toward Han. The man was very muscular, steam flowing through his veins.

Using his control over magnetism, Seijuro began crushing the man inside his armor.

Very slowly.

Han couldn't even speak. Seijuro slowly—and I DO mean very slowly—began having the armor squeeze the ever-living shit out of him.

Draining every single ounce of life that was in that man.

"It's nothing personal," he said.

"I'm simply following orders," would be the last words Han ever heard.

SQUISH

Blood went flying everywhere... yet didn't reach him. Before it could even touch him, it stopped—as if some magnetic force had frozen it in the air.

There was, in fact, something stopping it—yeah, it was Seijuro's Magnet Release. There was iron in the human body. While the dose was minor, it could still fall to this trick of his.

Though it got harder to control the body when they had chakra to defend, it was quite nifty for avoiding blood and so on.

Maybe he should continue hunting bijū at this pace.

Also, yes, for those who hadn't noticed yet—his identity was that of an Uzumaki survivor, seeking justice for what was done to his village.

Neat, right?

Oh well, no matter.

They were weak.

His gaze landed on the weak Iwa-nin nearby, who had watched the whole fight.

There were about 200 of them...

RAILGUN

POV Change: Black Market

Two cold, sealed bodies slammed onto the bounty counter.

The broker trembled.

"These... these are the Jinchūriki. You actually...?!"

"Confirmed," Seijuro said, bored. "Hurry up."

After frantic checks, the man returned with a reinforced scroll, glowing with protective seals and chakra notes.

"Three hundred fifty million yen," he whispered. "Full price."

Seijuro nodded, sealing it into a separate storage scroll.

He smiled, taking off his mask and sipping some of that good drink. Also, this? This was done on purpose.

His white and red hair drew gazes. He had an X mark over the image of Iwa, and his finger tapped on Kumo, Kiri, and Suna.

He knew the Third Tsuchikage had spies here. Plus, Seijuro had left some of his own spies alive—so let the old man build his narrative.

While Ōnoki would be busy thinking this was some sort of revenge or vendetta, Seijuro had practically siphoned off their bijū chakra. That had always been the real goal.

The money? Heh. That was for enlarging his spy network even further—and maybe to buy some Hashirama Cells.

POV: Iwagakure – Tsuchikage's War Room

Ōnoki stared at the letter like it had spit on his mother.

The message, written in elegant brushstroke, read:

"The beasts are with me.

Kumo offered fifty billion for them.

I'm waiting for a better bid.

—Aizen Sōsuke"

Ōnoki crushed the scroll.

"Find that bastard. NOW!"

A random spy bowed before the Tsuchikage.

"SPEAK. What did you find?"

The spy looked scared before answering.

"Aizen Sōsuke... appears to be a seal master, sir."

Ōnoki was about to vaporize him with Particle Style, but the spy continued.

"After some investigation... we've found out that Aizen Sōsuke may be... of Uzumaki descent."

...

...

...

For real, this was what was happening right now? A petty-ass teenager throwing a tantrum over something that happened generations ago?

How fucking absurd.

He had better shit to do. And no kid should be able to pull off this kind of operation.

Yet... he couldn't ignore the bijū. They were his city weapons.

What the fuck was this child doing?

"If we agree to his terms... we buy back our Tailed Beasts at a price that bankrupts us. Our treasury won't recover for a decade. Mission rates will drop. Equipment repairs, border security, medical resources—all cut. We'll bleed from the inside out. We won't need an enemy to destroy us."

A long, heavy silence.

A dark look passed over his face.

"On the other hand... if we don't pay, and the Cloud acquires those two beasts... their military might triples. The power balance tips. Suddenly, every other village—including us—sees Kumo as a global threat. The Fourth Great War could erupt within a year."

"And the first battle... will be here," he growled, tapping Iwagakure on the map.

He paused, shoulders hunched in thought.

"So," he muttered bitterly, "either we kill ourselves to stay afloat... or we ignite a world war and pray we aren't the first to burn."

He looked around the room.

"Either way... Aizen wins."

One of the advisors, a graying strategist with half a mask, finally spoke.

"What if... we accept the first trade, retrieve the Four-Tails, then use Particle Style to kill him before he hands over the Five?"

Ōnoki grimaced. "I thought of that. But he already accounted for it."

He gestured to a scroll pinned beside the map—Aizen's post-script.

"Oh, and don't get cute.

If I even suspect you're planning an ambush, I sell both to the Cloud.

—A.S."

Aizen had control of the board.

And Ōnoki hated that more than anything.

In his anger, he didn't even notice the puppet strings moving his body around....Onoki had fallen into Aizen Sosuke control, he was now completely predictable to him.

POV: Aizen Sōsuke – A Rooftop Tavern, Somewhere in the Land of Earth

Seijuro leaned back lazily, mask off, swirling a drink in his hand. His white-and-red hair was tied loose for once, cascading behind him like a declaration of power.

On the table before him sat a bingo book, a bounty ledger, and a small seal matrix that pulsed softly with Tailed-Beast Chakra.

He took a slow sip.

Then smirked.

"He's thinking it now," he muttered to himself. "That I played him. That every move—every letter—was written with foresight."

He tapped his finger on the map again.

"Old man's smart. Smarter than most."

"But he's still thinking this was the goal."

A slight chuckle.

"This debt trap, the risk of war, the sale of bijū—it's the decoy. The performance."

His finger hovered over the sealing array.

"The beasts were never the endgame."

A gust of wind blew across the rooftop.

He sealed the chakra scroll into his robes and rose.

"Let the world fixate on their weapons," he whispered. "While I build mine."