Chapter 24 - Along With The Pervy Sage

______________________

“Harem Jutsu? You mean that ridiculous technique Jiraiya uses? You turned him into a human cartoon character?” Kakashi’s expression twisted into a blend of horror and amusement, much like a child witnessing their beloved superhero trip over their own cape.

“Yes! But, uh, I think I did it better…”

Mi Blade muttered, casting a guilty glance back at the unconscious Sannin sprawled out on the ground.

Jiraiya lay there blissfully, a goofy smile plastered across his face, as if he had just stumbled upon an all-you-can-eat ramen buffet in the Land of Dreams.

The Hokage rubbed his temples vigorously, trying to massage away a migraine that was rapidly escalating into a full-blown headache.

“You mean to say you used a perverted jutsu on Jiraiya, and he just… fainted? Did he at least leave you a thank-you note?” His incredulity dripped from his words, each syllable underscoring the absurdity of the situation.

Mi Blade nodded sheepishly, stifling a chuckle.

“Kind of. But I didn’t mean to cause any harm! I swear!”

“Mi Blade!” Sakumo interjected, his voice sharp enough to slice through the tension like a kunai.

“You can’t just use a technique like that on someone without understanding the consequences! What if he becomes a permanent fixture of the ground? What will the village think? We can’t have a ‘Jiraiya on the Ground’ statue at every corner!”

Before Mi Blade could muster a response, Orochimaru stepped in, a smirk dancing on his lips like a mischievous cat.

“Well, it seems our dear Jiraiya has finally met his match in creativity. Who knew a six-year-old could outwit him? Still, it doesn’t explain why you’re poking him with a stick…” His genuine curiosity hinted at a fascination with the bizarre experiment unfolding before them.

“I was just checking if he was okay!”

Mi Blade retorted defensively, still crouched beside Jiraiya, who appeared to be lost in the best dream ever—perhaps imagining a world where ramen grew on trees and sake flowed like rivers.

Clearing his throat, Sarutobi Hiruzen attempted to regain control of the chaotic situation, like a teacher trying to calm a rowdy classroom full of hyperactive ninja toddlers.

“Regardless of how it happened, we need to address Jiraiya. He might be down, but it doesn’t mean he’s out for good. We can’t have this kind of thing spreading through the village, or we’ll end up with a Harem Jutsu fan club! And I don’t want to see posters of Jiraiya hanging from every lamppost!”

Just as he finished, several Anbu members, still baffled by the unfolding drama, stepped forward, their masks giving away none of their confusion.

One of them leaned toward another, whispering in disbelief, “Did he really use Harem Jutsu? Against Jiraiya of all people? That’s like throwing a pie in a sumo wrestler’s face! And now it’s going to be the talk of the village!”

The absurdity of it all hung thick in the air, and in that moment, even the most stoic shinobi couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of the scene unfolding before them.

“Don’t underestimate the power of a kid’s imagination,” another Anbu chimed in, chuckling quietly to himself, as if he were reminiscing about a time when he accidentally transformed his pet cat into a ninja.

“But still,” he continued, a smirk creeping onto his face, “he took down one of the Sannin… I bet when Jiraiya wakes up, he’ll be bragging about this like, ‘Yeah, I was defeated by a six-year-old. No big deal! Just another Tuesday!’”

As this happen, Mi Blade stood up, his confidence soaring like a ninja who had just consumed an entire platter of dango. The gleam in his eye mirrored that of a child who had just discovered an unopened box of toys.

“Maybe I should show everyone how it works! I can do it again!” he declared, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he envisioned himself as the centerpiece of a circus—complete with dazzling spotlights and an adoring audience cheering his name.

“What? No!”

Sakumo exclaimed, his voice rising in alarm, as if Mi Blade had just suggested juggling kunai while blindfolded.

“You’re not using that jutsu on anyone else! Last time, it was a disaster! I still have nightmares about it!”

“Don’t you want to see what it can do?”

Mi Blade pouted, crossing his arms defiantly like a toddler denied a second helping of dessert, ready to throw a full-blown tantrum if he didn’t get his way.

Orochimaru’s interest was piqued, the wheels in his mind visibly turning like a clock stuck in fast-forward.

“I’d be intrigued to see it performed on someone else, just to understand the mechanics. But perhaps not on a Sannin… I’ve had enough of Jiraiya's ‘special techniques’ for one night. My sanity can only take so much!”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Wait!”

Hiruzen interjected, raising his hand like a schoolteacher attempting to prevent a food fight.

“Let’s not escalate this any further. Mi Blade, why don’t you just explain how it works instead?”

Mi Blade’s face lit up with excitement, his eyes sparkling like a child who had just stumbled upon a hidden stash of candy.

“Sure! It’s simple! I gather chakra, do some hand seals, and then poof! Beautiful women appear! Like magic, but with fewer rabbits!”

The Anbu exchanged incredulous glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and amusement as they tried to determine whether this kid was a genius or simply wildly out of touch with reality.

“This kid is serious, huh? And here we thought he was just trying to prank us.”

Sakumo sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation like a parent dealing with a particularly mischievous child who had just discovered the cookie jar.

“You can’t be serious about doing this again, can you? Do you want me to start charging admission? I could set up a booth outside the village!”

“Why not? Jiraiya’s fine,”

Mi Blade insisted, his enthusiasm bubbling over like a fizzy drink that had been shaken too much, ready to explode.

“Come on! I bet everyone would want to see it! It’ll be like a festival, but with more awkwardness and fewer snacks!”

The room pulsed with tension and disbelief, yet amid the chaos, one thing became undeniably clear: Mi Blade’s innocent exuberance was on the brink of launching them into a whole new level of absurdity.

“Because if you do, I’ll be the one to stop you!” Sakumo declared, his exasperation evident as he faced Mi Blade, who seemed more like an overexcited puppy that had just discovered a stash of chew toys than a serious ninja.

“Fine, fine,” Mi Blade huffed dramatically, crossing his arms in a theatrical pout that could rival any seasoned diva.

“But you’re all missing out! This would’ve been a smash hit at the village festival!”

The moment hung thick in the air until it shattered like fragile glass. Jiraiya began to stir, a low groan escaping his lips that sounded alarmingly like a malfunctioning alarm clock stuck in snooze mode.

“W-What happened?”

he mumbled, blinking open his eyes as if emerging from the strangest nap imaginable, one filled with talking squirrels and flying ramen.

As he took in the bizarre scene—the gathering of elite shinobi staring at him, the pool of his own blood (most likely from his nose), and Mi Blade, clutching a stick as if it were the scepter of a new kingdom—Jiraiya’s face flushed crimson with realization.

“Did you use that jutsu on me?!” he shrieked, eyes wide with the shock of someone who had just discovered that their favorite ramen shop was completely out of stock.

“Uh… maybe?” Mi Blade stuttered, feeling guiltier than a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, trying to sneak a snack.

Jiraiya’s eyes widened before narrowing dangerously, transforming him into a predatory feline ready to pounce on a laser pointer.

“You little brat! You’re going to pay for this!”

Sakumo intervened heroically, placing himself between Jiraiya and Mi Blade, like a father preventing a toddler tantrum in the middle of a grocery store.

“Jiraiya, wait! It was just a misunderstanding! He didn’t know he was playing with fire! Or a giant, flaming ninja star!”

“Misunderstanding? He turned me into a fool!” Jiraiya shouted, still half-dazed and looking like he had just stumbled off the set of a slapstick comedy, complete with cartoonish sound effects echoing in his mind.

Orochimaru chuckled, unable to contain his amusement, as if he had just witnessed the funniest stand-up routine at an underground comedy club.

“This is quite the spectacle, Jiraiya. Perhaps it’s time for you to learn how to handle defeat gracefully. Or at least with a little more style. Like a true ninja!”

“Easy for you to say!”

Jiraiya grumbled, attempting to sit up but looking more like a turtle trying to flip itself over after a heavy meal. The fight seemed to drain out of him as he shook his head to clear the dizziness, only making him appear more disoriented, like a drunken bird trying to find its way home.

Sensing that the tension was finally easing, Hokage Hiruzen stepped in like a seasoned referee during a chaotic wrestling match.

“All right, everyone, let’s clear this up. Mi Blade, I believe you’ve learned an important lesson tonight about respecting others and the power of your jutsu.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mi Blade said, his embarrassment evident, like a kid caught trying to sneak candy into a movie theater with a full bag in hand.

“I’ll be more careful next time. Maybe.”

Suddenly, a mischievous idea struck him, and his eyes sparkled with mischief like a child who had just discovered an extra slice of cake at a birthday party.

“You know what? I’ll show you all how it works! Just one demonstration! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“NO!” everyone shouted in unison, horror etched on their faces as Sakumo and Hiruzen exchanged desperate glances, clearly aware that they had just opened Pandora’s box and were standing right in front of it.

As the crowd collectively facepalmed, Jiraiya could only groan, muttering, “I was just starting to feel better…”

Before anyone could react, Mi Blade rapidly began forming hand seals with a speed that could only be described as “slightly less chaotic than a squirrel on caffeine.”

“Boar → Dog → Bird → Monkey → Ram!”

MiBlade chanted, his fingers flying through the seals like a magician trying to impress a tough crowd with his best tricks.

“Wait, no!” Sakumo shouted, but it was too late. Mi Blade had already committed to his plan, and there was no turning back now.

With a flourish that would make any anime protagonist green with envy, Mi Blade declared,

“Harem Jutsu!”

The air crackled with anticipation, and the shadows of chaos loomed on the horizon, ready to swallow them whole once more.

Poof! In a dazzling explosion of sparkly smoke that could outshine the most spectacular fireworks display, several stunning, ethereal women materialized, each one more enchanting than the last.

They swirled into existence like the characters of a magical fairy tale come to life, their presence so captivating that even the toughest statues would blush a deeper shade than cherry red.

Sakumo, Orochimaru, and even Hokage Hiruzen stared in disbelief, their eyes widening as if they had just witnessed a giant taco float by in slow motion.

“Is that…? No way!”

Each thought raced through their minds, caught between awe and utter confusion.

The Anbu members, completely caught off guard, stood frozen like deer in headlights. Their masks offered no protection against the shock of the situation—who could maintain their tough facade when surrounded by a parade of mesmerizing women?

It was as if they had stumbled into an alternate universe where reality resembled a romantic comedy, complete with whimsical music and dazzling visuals.

As the illusions twirled and giggled, exuding an infectious joy as if auditioning for a Broadway musical, Jiraiya’s jaw dropped. His earlier anger evaporated faster than ice cream melting under the sun.

“Wha—no! Not again!” he sputtered, his face igniting into a shade of red that could only be described as “tomato on fire.” This was the kind of crimson that would make even a traffic light look pale in comparison.

The sight overwhelmed the men present. One by one, their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed to the ground like marionettes whose strings had been cut.

Jiraiya fainted from sheer embarrassment, his pride crumbling like a poorly forged ninja star, leaving him sprawled awkwardly on the floor.

Sakumo toppled over in disbelief, his expression a blend of shock and comedic despair. As this happen, Orochimaru’s typically composed demeanor shattered, and he joined the heap dramatically, as though auditioning for a role in a soap opera packed with outrageous plot twists.

Even the Hokage, a seasoned leader who had faced countless battles and rogue ninjas, succumbed to the absurdity of the moment. He facepalmed with such exasperation that it seemed he was trying to erase the entire scene from existence.

The only one left standing was Mi Blade, beaming with the kind of pride that would rival an Olympic gold medalist. He surveyed the unconscious forms of some of Konoha's most powerful shinobi like a child who had just pulled off the most epic prank in school.

“See? Not so bad, right?” he declared triumphantly, as if he had just clinched victory in a prestigious talent show instead of unleashing utter chaos.

Finally recovering from their initial shock, the Anbu members scrambled to check on their fallen leaders, whispering incredulously among themselves,

“Did that kid really just take down the Hokage and two of the strongest ninjas with a single jutsu? What’s next, a ninja talent show? Will there be dancing? Juggling?”

Mi Blade, blissfully oblivious to the mayhem he had caused, continued to radiate pride.

“Now that’s what I call a successful demonstration!” he proclaimed, as if he had just put on the best magic show in history, completely unaware that he had transformed a serious meeting into a comedy of errors.