Having resolved to act on his grand ideals once he returned, Sasori continued playing the game. Even with his mind made up, the mission before him still had to be completed.
However, his reason for playing quickly shifted from "for the mission" to simple "curiosity."
It wasn't the undead or the mutated monsters that intrigued him. Though they startled and repulsed him, that wasn't what truly caught his attention.
It was when they reached the third mini-stage, where the only way to proceed was by activating a transport mechanism—a giant bird-shaped puppet. Once activated, it took flight. Players could operate the puppet bird from within; it was a marvel of mechanical craftsmanship.
Of course, the control was purely within the game mechanics. Players couldn't actually fly the puppet themselves.
But Sasori didn't care. The moment he saw the intricate construction of that puppet bird—far beyond any level of puppetry currently seen in the shinobi world—he was utterly captivated.
To a puppeteer, especially one with an obsessive devotion to puppet techniques, this was an irresistible temptation. It ensnared his soul entirely.
Indeed, this colossal puppet was one of Uchiha Kei's personal creations, inspired by a puppet design from a past-life RPG game he had played. Kei had incorporated modern engineering structures and detailed mechanical parts to create a visually stunning giant puppet bird.
To the average player, it was a visual treat—a glimpse of a more sophisticated world. But to a die-hard puppeteer like Sasori, it was a fatal allure. The ultimate display of beauty. He found himself touching and studying every part of the puppet bird with unrestrained reverence, yearning to dismantle and study every piece of it on the spot.
"So beautiful..."
Sasori caressed the mechanical puppet as if it were a lover, his face full of obsession.
Unfortunately, his current avatar was a dark-skinned brute from the Land of Lightning, not his usual beautiful form—so his actions came across as extremely creepy.
His temporary teammates flinched and started hurling complaints.
"Oi, oi, what are you doing? Get over here and help!"
"The undead are coming again! Can't you save your puppet obsession until after the battle?"
"Ah! I've been grabbed! Help me, you bastard! Stop ogling and buy your own copy to study it later! We're gaming now—don't drag us down!"
The entire team complained loudly. If this had been the infamous toxic server zone, Sasori's entire bloodline would have been verbally annihilated.
Annoyed by their "interruptions," Sasori felt a surge of killing intent.
But since they were in-game and friendly fire was disabled, there was nothing he could do.
Moreover, the undead began attacking him too, cutting short his appreciation of the puppet bird.
Grudgingly, Sasori picked up his weapon and joined the fight. The team triggered various mechanisms to prep the puppet bird, and eventually, they got it airborne.
Another mini-stage cleared.
Just as Sasori prepared to further study the puppet bird's inner workings, the game transitioned into the next stage. By the time he snapped out of it, they were already standing in a mountain farmland.
The puppet bird had crash-landed and was now a wreck behind them. The player characters explained via automatic dialogue that the puppet had run out of energy and had to crash-land, but everyone was unharmed and could proceed.
Sasori's teammates were clearly familiar with this stage and calmly began prepping weapons. Sasori, however, stared blankly at the broken puppet bird, as if his soul had left his body.
He exuded a tragic air—perfect for some melancholic snow to start falling while he collapsed to his knees, screaming "Nooo!"
Sorrow. Pain. Emptiness. As if life had lost all meaning.
Until—
"Yo, if you're into puppets that much, I recommend buying 'Road to Survival' and playing it solo later. Also, there are more puppet creations ahead, so don't get stuck here. We've got more undead waves coming."
An older-character player mocked him gently. Sasori's gameplay was strong—better than most veterans—but his obsession with puppet tech was hard to deal with.
"Dude, it's just in-game stuff, not real. No matter how realistic it looks, it's still fake. What, you planning to build these in real life?" another player, portraying a scrawny youth, chimed in. He clearly couldn't stand Sasori wasting their precious in-game time.
"Come on! It's 500 ryō an hour! Let's move, move, move!"
"Time is money, my guy!"
But Sasori ignored all their complaints. He only registered two things: "There are more puppet creations ahead" and "build them in the real world."
In that moment, his formerly listless eyes gleamed with intense light.
Unfortunately, with his current avatar being a burly, dark-skinned man from the Land of Lightning, that radiant gaze looked less like an inspired artist and more like a villain from a questionable doujinshi.
Creepy.
Still, everyone was in character, so it didn't really matter—just don't ruin the game for the others.
From there, guided by the "veterans," Sasori advanced through wave after wave of exhilarating battles. Soon, they encountered more mechanical marvels: a bipedal puppet house that charged enemies, absurd-looking but incredibly effective at flattening undead.
Eventually, that too was destroyed by a scripted event, forcing them to press on.
Next came puppet turrets, puppet soldier squads, and even a massive half-bodied puppet giant. To normal shinobi, these would have looked absurd—obviously fake constructs only possible in video games.
But Sasori remembered them all.
To him, they were divine. His heart burned with passion. He was already obsessed with recreating them in the real world.
Especially the upper-body-only puppet giant. Its design, modeled after a Gundam, was so sleek that even in its incomplete state, it radiated coolness. Sasori was dying to bring this "Ninja World Gundam" to life.
Because let's be honest—no man can resist a Gundam.jpg.
And thus, a powerful desire was born: he wanted to meet the creator of this genjutsu game. The person who had conceived all these miraculous puppets.
The moment the desire took root, he made up his mind: no matter what, he would meet them.
Even if that meant defying the Sand's diplomatic mission.
Even if it brought trouble.
Because in the pursuit of true art—nothing else mattered.
Sasori firmly believed: anyone capable of designing such artistic marvels in-game would absolutely understand his pursuit of perfection in puppet art.