Chương 57: Orochimaru: Why don't you become my assistant?

Yunmi Gekko, lying nearest the door, didn't open his eyes. Instead, his voice drifted through the dark in a low, disciplined whisper.

"Zhen. Have you detected something?"

"A small snake is circling outside," Zhen replied, making no effort to hide the truth.

"I suspect it belongs to Lord Orochimaru."

"Is that so? It must be seeking you, then. It seems the Commander has returned. Do you require me to accompany you?" In truth, Yunmi was loath to let his student go alone. However, Orochimaru was the supreme authority in this theater; as subordinates, a direct refusal was a luxury they could not afford.

"The fact that Lord Orochimaru used such a discreet method suggests he isn't looking for a chaperone," Zhen noted.

"If he wanted a formal meeting, he would have sent an official runner."

"I suppose you're right. Go on, then." Yunmi paused, his tone shifting to one of quiet warning.

"Zhen... maintain the proper respect for Lord Orochimaru, but do not allow yourself to be drawn too deep. You understand where our clans stand, don't you?"

"I understand, Sensei." At this juncture, Orochimaru was still the paragon of Konoha—a powerful, reliable master of strategy and a favored disciple of the Hokage. His aura was feminine and cold, certainly, but few believed he would ever turn his blade against his own kin. Yunmi's caution stemmed from politics, not safety. The three clans were staunch loyalists to the Hokage's direct line, and the veteran Jonin were no fools.

They could see the writing on the wall: Orochimaru had likely been sidelined from the succession. Why else would he be stationed here on the Eastern Front while Jiraiya held the North, and Jiraiya's student, Minato Namikaze, was being polished into the village's brightest star? To the Jonin who weren't part of Orochimaru's inner circle, the Sannin was a figure to be respected and obeyed, but never one to be followed into the shadows.

Outside, a small serpent with alternating red and black rings sat coiled in the grass. Barely longer than a pair of chopsticks, it flicked its tongue at Zhen before turning and slithering away. The invitation was unmistakable. Zhen followed, marveling once more at the ingenuity of chakra-infused lifeforms. Despite its size, the snake possessed a jarringly human intelligence; its golden eyes conveyed a level of intent that was almost sentient.

The snake moved with a silent, uncanny speed, and Zhen trailed it like a phantom. They soon arrived at a secluded clearing on the outskirts of the camp. The serpent vanished behind the gnarled roots of an ancient tree. Zhen inspected the spot. A concealed entrance led into the earth, emitting a faint, flickering glow that remained invisible to anyone not standing directly atop it. The man certainly has a penchant for burrowing, Zhen thought. Does he actually consider himself a snake? He paused. Well...

considering his true form eventually becomes a literal white serpent, I suppose I can't fault the branding. He descended the hardened earthen stairs into a subterranean corridor. The walls were etched with dizzying, incomprehensible patterns, illuminated by oil lamps at staggered intervals. The atmosphere was stifling and dim—the quintessence of Orochimaru's aesthetic. As he moved deeper, empty prison cells lined the passage.

Following the thrum of chakra, Zhen rounded a final corner and entered a makeshift laboratory. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Here, the oil lamps gave way to the harsh, sterile hum of electric lights powered by a portable generator. Beneath the glare of a surgical shadowless lamp stood a tall, slender figure. He wore the standard Konoha flak jacket, his long, raven hair spilling unrestrained down his back.

He was hunched over an examination table, his back to the door. On the table lay the "research material"—a cadaver, stripped of both clothing and dignity. It was the Mist kunoichi they had captured earlier. It was a scene of clinical depravity. In a cinema, such a moment would be veiled in shadows or obscured by cloth; here, the reality was laid bare under the cold white light.

"If my messenger hadn't led the way," Orochimaru began, his voice a sibilant crawl, "would you have been able to find this place?" He turned slowly. His features were iconic: death-pale skin, elongated violet markings around his eyes, and golden, reptilian slits for pupils. He looked less like a man and more like something ancient wearing a human skin. Zhen offered a shallow bow, observing the legend with a calm, curious gaze.

"I would have, Lord Orochimaru. You chose a location close to the camp. It was well within my sensory perimeter."

"As I suspected. Your perception is even more exquisite than the reports suggested." Orochimaru stepped aside, granting Zhen a full view of the slab. Zhen's eyes flickered to the body. His initial assessment was confirmed: the Mist kunoichi was indeed a flat A-cup.

"You don't seem disturbed by the sight," Orochimaru observed.

"The Konoha Hospital has its own research division, My Lord. Dissections and autopsies are part of the curriculum. I was introduced to them quite early."

"Under your mother's tutelage, I presume? Megumi Dongye... I remember her. A competent medic. But I believe you have already eclipsed her."

"My mother will always be my benchmark for excellence." Zhen knew his family's history was an open book to a man of Orochimaru's rank. The Sannin didn't linger on the topic, instead gesturing toward the corpse.

"Do you recognize her?"

"I do. She was the prisoner we secured on our way to the front."

"I've read the mission logs. To wipe out a Mist scouting party and secure a live captive... the lion's share of that achievement belongs to you. Breathtaking sensory range, high-level medical ninjutsu, an extraordinary aptitude for nature transformation, and... a psychological maturity that belies your years." Orochimaru's tongue flicked out, tracing a slow arc across his lips.

"Dongye-kun, your brilliance has outpaced even my teacher's imagination. Even I, whom the Third labeled a 'once-in-a-generation' genius, feel a sense of inadequacy standing before you."

"You flatter me, Lord Orochimaru. The village is full of talented shinobi. I am merely one among many."

"Are you referring to Kakashi?" Orochimaru chuckled, a dry, rasping sound.

"He is a genius, certainly—but only as a shinobi."

"But we are shinobi, My Lord. So... to what do I owe the honor of this meeting?" Orochimaru abandoned the pleasantries.

"Dongye-kun, become my assistant. I have need of your unique eyes and your hands. This world is a tapestry of secrets. If you walk with me, I can show you what lies beneath the surface." So, he doesn't want my body yet, Zhen thought. He just wants a high-end sensory and medical drone. Pass. I'll leave that vacancy for Kabuto Yakushi. I'm just a casual fan, not a fanatic.

"Is there any secret in this world that we, as shinobi, do not already know?" Zhen asked aloud.

"Many. For instance... are you not curious how this girl survived a kunai to the heart?"

"Was it a specific bloodline?"

"The Hydrification Technique of the Hozuki clan. Unfortunately, her talent was middling; she could only liquefy portions of her anatomy to avoid lethal blows. Otherwise, catching her near a lake would have been impossible. Does it not fascinate you? A body of flesh and bone, turning into water at will?" The hook was baited with intellectual curiosity, but Zhen remained unmoved.

"It is fascinating, My Lord. However, I find I have a greater affinity for the battlefield than the laboratory. If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave." Orochimaru showed neither surprise nor disappointment. At Zhen's age, he too had been enamored with the thrill of combat. He knew that after witnessing enough death, a man inevitably changed. He doubted Zhen would be the exception. He nodded slowly.

"Very well. Return to your squad. But remember to keep your curiosity whetted. If the day comes when you wish to truly understand this world, my door remains open." Zhen offered a respectful salute and retreated from the subterranean lab. I'm sorry, Mr. Orochimaru, he thought as he climbed back to the surface. But I started this journey at the finish line of your research. The 'truth' you're looking for... is just a messy, intergalactic family soap opera.