Chapter 147: Captured Alive
The diminutive toad perched on Jiraiya's shoulder suddenly sprang into action. It vaulted high into the air, its shadow momentarily eclipsing the towering black Susanoo before it brought a webbed claw crashing down against the ethereal armor. A deafening metallic clang echoed across the battlefield. Just behind them, the colossal form of Gamabunta had already unfurled a massive, chakra-infused scroll, slamming it firmly into the earth.
Jia stared in dry disbelief. She had been deliberately pulling her punches, yet these guys had the sheer audacity to escalate things by Reverse Summoning her straight to Mount Myōboku. What was the endgame here? A synchronized beatdown by every amphibian in the sacred realm?
'Summoned Beasts are such a blatant cheat code,'she mused inwardly, her lips twitching.'No wonder every single transmigrator in those web novels breaks their back trying to score a summoning contract and learn the Sage Arts of the Three Great Sage Regions.'
Still, she had to hand it to Jiraiya—the man had nerves of steel. Attempting to Reverse Summon a fully manifested, skyscraper-sized Susanoo was nothing short of suicidal. Wasn't he the least bit worried that the spatial distortion would glitch out from the sheer mass, cleanly decapitating her and leaving her headless torso behind?
The world spun into a nauseating kaleidoscope of colors. When the spatial vortex finally spat her out, Jia found herself standing amidst the towering, ancient flora of Mount Myōboku.
Before she could even blink away the vertigo, Jiraiya's hands blurred through a complex sequence of hand seals. He slammed his calloused palm flat against the dirt. The trap, carefully laid out and waiting for her arrival, roared to life.
Torrents of pale gold sealing formulas erupted from the soil beneath her feet. The glowing script slithered upward like spectral vipers, tightly coiling around the skeletal ribs of her black Susanoo. The ethereal armor flickered, violently destabilized as the runes greedily devoured its structural chakra. With a hollow shatter, the Susanoo dissolved into nothingness. Unhindered, the golden characters latched directly onto her, spinning in a frenzied, dizzying orbit. They acted like an insatiable sponge, ruthlessly siphoning the chakra straight out of her coils.
The searing runes burned through her clothes and sank into her skin. They flooded her meridian pathways, aggressively anchoring themselves into her tenketsu and locking down every single chakra point with absolute prejudice.
Jia blinked slowly, processing the familiar sting. 'If I am not mistaken... this is the exact same sealing formula the Fourth Hokage developed to suppress the Nine-Tails.'
A fuinjutsu matrix of this absurd complexity would take a master at least two months just to draft the preliminary ink work. Aside from the likes of Senju Tobirama or the prodigy Minato Namikaze, anyone else would blow their own brains out trying to comprehend the math. Jiraiya certainly possessed a solid knack for sealing techniques, but there was zero chance the Fourth Hokage would have casually handed him the blueprints for this specific, highly classified jutsu.
The answer was obvious. Jiraiya had absolutely shamelessly begged their esteemed Fourth Hokage for a favor. Minato must have pre-drawn ninety-nine percent of the array onto that scroll, leaving Jiraiya with the simple task of completing the final trigger sequence and dumping a colossal reservoir of chakra to jumpstart the seal.
It all made perfect, irritating sense now. That explained why Jiraiya had been so stingy with his ninjutsu back on the battlefield, only intervening at the absolute last second to parry her lethal strikes. He had been letting those three shameless giant toads do all the heavy lifting. The entire skirmish had been an elaborate, high-stakes theatrical performance designed to herd her into the Reverse Summoning radius, all while he hoarded enough chakra to detonate this specialized capture seal.
Jia stared blankly at the white-haired Sannin. Jiraiya was currently hunched over, gasping for air like a beached fish, completely drained of chakra. Her mind temporarily blue-screened at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
She had been captured alive. Which meant Jiraiya intended to drag her kicking and screaming back to Konohagakure to face a grand tribunal.
'Wait,'she realized, a spark of opportunistic greed flashing in her mind.'If the Fourth Hokage sees me dragged in chains, the sheer angst and betrayal on his face will generate an absolute goldmine of mood values.'
But then she frowned. No, being paraded into Konoha as a shackled prisoner was a terrible aesthetic. It completely ruined her carefully curated villainous mystique. A public execution or dying in a sterile interrogation cell lacked any real cinematic flair. Everyone else in her little theater troupe got to go out in a blaze of tragic, noble glory. Why should she settle for a pathetic, humiliating end?
Getting tossed into the Interrogation Department the first time had been a calculated accident, a necessary evil just to securely hand-deliver the Mangekyo Sharingan to Black Zetsu. Should she just pull the plug and log off right here and now?
Perishing in a desperate, tragic clash of ideals against an old comrade... yes, that narrative had a certain poetic tragedy to it. It was passable.
Her fingers gave a subtle twitch, discreetly brushing against the coarse paper of a high-yield Explosive Tag concealed within the inner lining of her sleeve.
Detonating herself prematurely was not part of the original master plan, but she could make it work. Mie could easily improvise the rest of the script from the shadows to cover the plot holes. The dramatic impact would be adequate.
Yet, her finger hesitated over the trigger seal. Blowing herself into a shower of bloody confetti right in front of Jiraiya's face... wasn't that a bit too vicious? What if it gave the old pervert permanent psychological damage?
She vividly remembered the aftermath of Senju Nawaki stepping on that explosive trap. Watching his student get reduced to pieces had completely shattered Orochimaru's sanity, twisting him into the snake freak he was today. If she pulled a similar stunt, would Jiraiya snap and go down a similarly dark path?
They had fought back-to-back, bleeding together on countless battlefields. They shared a genuine life-and-death bond. She just could not bring herself to inflict that kind of trauma on him.
Jia released a long, silent sigh, letting her hand fall away from the hidden tag. 'Fine. If the old fool wants to play warden so badly, let him have his victory.'
At worst, she could just manipulate Black Zetsu into staging a grand prison break during her trial. She was still a highly valuable asset on the board; that shadowy parasite wouldn't dare let his favorite tool get snapped in half by the Leaf Village.
A few paces away, Jiraiya finally collapsed onto one knee, his chest heaving violently. Sweat poured down his face in buckets. He had severely underestimated the sheer, gluttonous chakra cost of Minato's custom fuinjutsu. The reserves he had painstakingly hoarded during the fight were completely tapped out, leaving his muscles trembling like jelly. He barely had the strength to keep his head up. The Fourth Hokage's sealing formulas were truly monstrous.
Catching the subtle shift in Jia's posture, Jiraiya's face drained of all color. Fear spiked in his eyes. Forcing his exhausted body to move, he lunged forward with a desperate burst of speed, bringing the hardened edge of his hand down in a brutal, precise chop against the side of her neck.
Jia didn't even have time to roll her eyes. The world instantly went black, and she crumpled limply into the dirt.
Even with her sprawled motionless on the ground, Jiraiya refused to let his guard down. He knew exactly how dangerous the woman was. Dropping heavily to his knees beside her, he immediately began a thorough, ruthless search. He fished out the explosive tags she kept carefully sewn into the inner seams of her cloak, shredding the paper into harmless confetti. He pried her jaw open, carefully extracting the lethal poison capsules wedged between her back molars, and completely stripped away her ninja tool pouches.
Only after he was absolutely certain she had been stripped of every single weapon, trap, and suicide method did the adrenaline finally leave his system. Jiraiya slumped backward, sprawling flat on his back against the cool earth.
He rolled his head to the side, his weary eyes resting on Jia's peaceful, sleeping face. A soft, almost boyish smile broke through the grime and exhaustion on his features.
"Jia..." he whispered, his voice cracking with relief. "I finally caught you."
...
The sacred world of Mount Myōboku was a primordial paradise, dominated by gargantuan, ancient trees whose massive canopies completely blotted out the sun. It was a stunning, isolated landscape untouched by the ravages of human war. Towering, moss-covered stone statues carved in the likeness of revered toads dotted the misty mountain peaks, exuding an aura of heavy, almost eerie tranquility.
Currently, the fearsome, manipulative rogue ninja Jia was sitting cross-legged by a babbling stream, engaged in an intense staring contest with a tiny, yellow-skinned frog.
There had originally been two of the little amphibians keeping watch. However, the moment her eyelids had fluttered open, one of them had shrieked and bounded off into the underbrush, undoubtedly sprinting to tattle to Jiraiya.
Upon waking, she had immediately taken stock of her situation. It was grim. Every single weapon scroll had been confiscated. The razor-sharp garrote wires spooled around her wrists, the senbon hidden in her belt loops, and even the neurotoxin coated on the tips of her hairpins had vanished. Jiraiya had been terrifyingly thorough. With her chakra network completely locked down by Minato's seal, she had been reduced to the threat level of a civilian who just happened to be exceptionally good at throwing punches.
In a mountain range populated by giant, sage-arts-wielding warrior toads, she probably couldn't even win a fistfight against a middle-school-aged amphibian.
So, naturally, she followed her heart. She decided to spend her captivity ruthlessly bullying this defenseless frog hatchling.
Every time the little yellow creature tried to discreetly hop away, her hand would shoot out, snatching it out of mid-air and unceremoniously plunking it back down in front of her. It tried to escape to the left; she pinned it. It tried to leap into the stream; she caught it by the leg and dragged it back.
After about a dozen failed escape attempts, the yellow frog simply gave up. It sat perfectly still, staring up at her with massive, terrified eyes, its throat pouch inflating and deflating in rapid, panicked thrums.
"Stinky woman, what are you doing?!" it finally squeaked, its voice trembling.
Jia gave its squishy, slippery body a gentle but menacing squeeze, leaning in close to maximize the intimidation factor. A dark, villainous smirk curled her lips.
"I'm hungry," she whispered in a low, raspy tone. "And to avoid starving to death in this miserable place, I'm currently debating the best way to skin you, de-bone you, and eat you completely raw."
The threat landed a critical hit. The yellow frog was instantly scared into hysterics. Tears welled up in its oversized eyes, and it began wailing at the top of its lungs, thrashing wildly in her grip like a tantrum-throwing toddler.
"WAAAAAH! Help! Mama! Save me! This stinky woman wants to eat me!"
"Jia, come on. Stop terrorizing little Hamayu; he's incredibly timid."
Jiraiya's exasperated voice drifted out from the dense foliage. He stepped into the clearing, looking significantly more rested than before. The moment Jia loosened her grip, the traumatized frog scrambled away like its tail was on fire, launching itself directly into Jiraiya's waiting arms to loudly sob about its near-death experience.
Jiraiya chuckled, gently patting the weeping amphibian's head to soothe its shattered nerves. Reaching into his pouch, he produced a small bag of premium dried insect treats. Instantly bought off by the bribe, Hamayu stopped crying, snatched the bag of snacks, and hopped away into the bushes, looking entirely satisfied with the exchange.
Jiraiya turned his attention back to his prisoner, offering a casual, friendly wave.
"If you're hungry, your timing is perfect. Come on, let's go. Shima has prepared an absolute feast, and she's very eager to formally host you for dinner."
Now that he had successfully captured her, it was as if an enormous, crushing weight had been lifted from the Sannin's shoulders. The heavy, suffocating gravity that had defined their violent reunion on the battlefield had completely vanished. His tone was light, airy, and entirely natural. There wasn't a single trace of bitterness or estrangement in his demeanor. He looked completely relaxed, treating her exactly the same way he had before everything went to hell.
It was as if they hadn't spent the last five years on opposite sides of a war. It was as if they hadn't literally been trying to stab each other through the heart just a few hours ago.
Seeing her stubbornly rooted to the spot, Jiraiya simply closed the distance between them. Without a word of warning, he reached out, caught her hand, and laced his fingers through hers, holding her palm firmly in his own.
Unable to mold chakra to break his grip, Jia was forced to sluggishly trail behind him, her boots dragging through the dirt as she muttered complaints.
"Aren't you supposed to be dragging me back to Konoha for a grand military tribunal? Why the sudden delay? Are we fattening up the prisoner so I have the energy to survive the Interrogation Department?"
Jiraiya's footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second at her morbid humor, his grip tightening slightly, before he silently resumed his steady pace.
A few minutes later, they arrived at a large, flat stone serving as a dining table. And for the first time in a very long while, Jia felt genuine, unadulterated horror.
She was a woman who had faced down tailed beasts and legendary shinobi without blinking, but Jiraiya had finally managed to find her breaking point.
The table was absolutely overflowing with insects.
There were massive, fist-sized beetles roasted on skewers, wriggling centipedes swimming in a thick broth, and mounds of brightly colored, squishy caterpillars arranged like a salad. It was a lavish, carefully prepared, all-you-can-eat bug banquet.
Standing proudly beside the culinary atrocity, the elderly toad sage, Shima, offered a warm, grandmotherly smile, gesturing eagerly for her to dig in and not be shy.
'Don't be shy, my ass!' Jia screamed internally, her carefully maintained stoic facade violently shattering.
Her facial features twisted into a mask of pure, visceral disgust as she pointed a trembling finger at the writhing bowl of grubs.
"You actually expect me to eat this stuff?!"
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