Naturally, there was no such thing as Iron Man in the shinobi world. So, what appeared before Sasori was Uchiha Kei, disguised within the illusionary world.
At that moment, Kei was seated in a yakiniku restaurant next to a hotel in Sunagakure. The place was an Akimichi clan property, and given the current close ties between the Uchiha and various prominent Konoha clans, Kei only needed to say the word to be given a private room.
From that distance, the mental network could establish a "Bluetooth"-like connection with Sasori's game scroll.
Using administrator privileges, Kei set the game display to "Primitive Mode"—in other words, the base interface of *Minecraft*.
He didn't pull Sasori into the mental network; he simply exercised admin rights to bend the rules.
However, this trick wasn't invincible. If Sasori couldn't beat him, he could always quit the game.
Had Kei appeared in any other form, Sasori likely would've immediately prepared to log out.
But Kei had deliberately appeared as Iron Man, completely captivating Sasori.
A fully metallic construct, a precisely assembled mechanism with seamless joints—flawless craftsmanship that even Sasori, with his critical eye, could find no fault in.
That iron figure, exuding an overwhelming metallic aesthetic, embodied Sasori's ultimate vision of puppetry.
Yes—Sasori's dream puppet was one made entirely of metal.
Yet, due to chakra conduction issues and the cumbersome nature of metal, puppets were traditionally made of wood with only a few metal parts. Sasori's dream had always remained just that.
But even the basic Mark II armor from Iron Man was, in Sasori's eyes, the epitome of artistic engineering. What Kei had conjured was the Mark 50 nanotech armor from *Avengers: Infinity War*.
This wasn't just a dimensional gap—it was like puppetry had been touched by the divine.
At that moment, Sasori's gaze was fully locked onto the Iron Man armor. Eyes wide, unblinking, as if afraid that one blink would make the vision disappear.
Then Kei raised his right hand—and in an instant, dozens of Iron Man suits appeared in the sky, flames roaring as they descended.
Some landed like superheroes, others hovered in midair. A scene of armored gods filling the heavens and earth.
Sasori was stunned. His worldview shattered.
The image before him mirrored his own grand idea—Red Secret Technique: Performance of a Hundred Puppets.
But even if that technique were perfected, it could never compare to this visual impact. Steel had a visceral power wood could never replicate—especially this high-grade artistry.
Before Sasori could recover, Kei raised his hand again.
The Iron Man army soared skyward, then scattered. What they did next shook Sasori to his soul—they unveiled their weapons and unleashed hellfire across the simulated world.
To heighten the spectacle, Kei generated small mountains and buildings to serve as targets.
The Iron Legion obliterated them in a storm of explosions. Those closer were sliced apart in melee mode—hot blades carving through metal and stone like butter.
Kei even cheekily recreated Tony Stark's Jericho missile scene from *Iron Man 1*, with one suit launching a Jericho that annihilated a distant mountain.
As the shockwave thundered past, Kei—arms outstretched—stood tall in his armor. "You see this, Sasori? This is the ultimate form of puppetry."
The blast washed over them. Kei, armored, stood firm. Sasori was thrown back several steps.
Whether due to the visual onslaught, the blast force, or both, the fifteen-year-old collapsed to his knees, dazed and speechless.
Finally, his eyes lit with unprecedented brilliance. He stared at Kei. "Is this... real?"
Kei replied, "If you're willing to learn, one day the real shinobi world will see things like this—and even more artistic forms—born from your hands."
Sasori's pupils trembled. He exhaled deeply... and then, in pure Nihon-style fervor, dropped to his knees in a dogeza.
"Sensei—please teach me."
Kei, behind the Iron Mask, smiled.
—
Some time later, Kei exited the private room, left a five-star review for the yakiniku, and went home.
Sasori also logged out of the genjutsu game. Reflecting on his conversation with that mysterious man of iron, his normally stoic eyes now blazed with newfound resolve.
In that moment, he had found purpose—a goal not born from delusion but grounded in rationality.
Science.
It was the first time he'd heard that word. The first time he understood that such power was real.
A new system of knowledge, wholly distinct from the shinobi world's, had opened to him.
However, there remained one obstacle: his identity as a shinobi of Sunagakure. Once something he assumed would define his life, it was now the very chain restraining his pursuit of scientific truth and the creation of an iron puppet army.
So, the Sand? Not worth it.
Likewise, that extreme plan he once envisioned—sending the Third Kazekage to join his predecessors—could be scrapped. After all, if he actually went through with it, his dream of learning would be over before it began.
"In that case, I'll escape when the envoy begins its return journey."
So spoke the fifteen-year-old Sasori—his adolescent rebelliousness on full display.
Of course, only he knew of this plan. Even Kei—the mastermind who sparked it all—had no idea what kind of future Sasori would carve for himself in pursuit of iron artistry.
For Kei, this whole encounter had merely been a test—a gambit. If it worked, great. If not, it changed nothing.
And so, the next morning, the Sunagakure delegation packed up and began their return. Accompanying them were Leaf representatives, assigned to finalize cooperation details and oversee construction of the new arcade.
At the same time, delegations from Iwagakure and Kumogakure also arrived.
As for Kirigakure...
Minato Namikaze reported: they had opted for more... extreme methods.
Yes—on that very day, Minato returned to Konoha and briefed Hiruzen Sarutobi on the incident his team encountered.
After hearing the details, Hiruzen was shocked, furious—and pleased.
Shocked and furious that Kirigakure had launched an ambush on Minato's team—a blatant act of treachery. If Konoha had lost someone as promising as Minato, or any of his talented squad, the consequences would have been catastrophic.
And pleased—because Minato had clearly achieved a breakthrough.
To eliminate a Kirigakure elite force in an instant? Undoubtedly, he had mastered the Hiraishin no Jutsu (Flying Thunder God Technique).
And once he'd done that, Minato was unquestionably at Kage-level. Given the nature of Hiraishin no Jutsu, even among Kage-level shinobi, he would be a strategic powerhouse.
Minato's growth had made him a true strategic asset—an irreplaceable weapon.
Hiruzen was elated.
As for retaliating against Kirigakure... that was the tricky part.
Even Kumogakure's brutes could be coerced into paying reparations through the threat of war, but Kirigakure?
That hellish village was isolated overseas. War threats meant little to them. Surrounded by ocean, naturally fortified, Kirigakure was the slipperiest of the Five Great Nations. Despite taking losses in every war, they always avoided consequences—and never paid a single coin in reparations.
Truly infuriating.