Work Text:
Jiraiya surveyed his work with satisfaction as the timbers of the ceiling creaked. He might have gone a little overboard there, he thought. Outside, civilians were starting to congregate near the hole in the far wall, peering through falling papers to the twisted metal in the corner of the room.
Jiraiya waved his pipe genially at them, one foot planted on the back of the still struggling man. He shifted his weight a bit, pressing down on a more painful pressure point. The man jerked and then went limp.
Normally Jiraiya wouldn't have bothered. He made enough money that a few pirated copies of his books made no difference. Still, he had a reputation to uphold, and the man had left out the climactic threesome in chapter seventeen.