Aside from the profitable health products developed by Orochimaru, his collaboration with Uchiha Kei on genjutsu-based network signal towers had finally borne fruit.
Using the chakra-based black tech of the ninja world—and with the Nine-Tails assisting—they managed to make a breakthrough during their studies.
The results were astonishing. Far beyond what Uchiha Kei had expected. The two were actually planning to launch a satellite to create full-coverage genjutsu networks across the entire ninja world.
It was absurd—as if everyone else was still fiddling with telegraph machines, and someone suddenly brought out a satellite and said, "We're launching this into space."
It felt like playing *Civilization VI* and shooting up one specific tech branch while ignoring the rest. Imagine your naval tech tree had aircraft carriers, but your infantry still rode medieval horses.
There was, of course, a catch...
"So, gentlemen," Uchiha Kei asked, "how exactly do we plan to get this station into orbit? You've grasped the concept of rockets, but we don't actually have one. Heck, we haven't even cleared the lower rungs of the tech tree."
The two researchers exchanged a glance. Orochimaru gave a chuckle and turned to Sasori with an affectionate look. "Sasori-kun, you're the one spearheading this part. Why don't you explain it to Kei-kun?"
Sasori nodded and gave Orochimaru a polite bow—ever the picture of grace.
Their mutual respect was obvious. Both were geniuses. Though they focused on different research areas, Uchiha Kei had brought them together, and their time training in the mental network world had bonded them like true comrades-in-arms.
More importantly, neither of them had gone down the dark paths they would've otherwise taken. Instead, they'd found a road to a better future—guided and supported all the way.
Naturally, a sense of kinship and admiration developed between them.
Then Sasori explained their plan: no rockets? No problem. Use a cannon.
The theory behind chakra cannons had existed in the ninja world for a long time. It just hadn't been developed until the Hidden Cloud Village took it up in the future. Other villages had never committed resources to it.
But now? Orochimaru and Sasori, after extensive discussion and analysis of the current situation, concluded that aiming for the kind of aerospace technology from the mental network archives was totally unrealistic—it required an immense industrial system.
Konoha couldn't pull that off. Even uniting the whole ninja world couldn't make it happen—not for another 20 years, at least.
So they decided to lean into the ninja world's unique features and fully embrace chakra tech.
Enter: the chakra cannon.
Theoretically, it could launch a communication satellite into orbit. Sure, precision and safety were concerns, but ninja-world black tech could handle those. Sealing scrolls, barrier techniques, and various defensive jutsu could keep the satellite safe. As for accuracy? Time-space jutsu could cover that.
In theory, the chakra cannon route required way fewer prerequisites than a traditional rocket program. It was the tech leap from WWI to WWII—big, but not unthinkable.
And this was the ninja world, where black tech was everywhere. Add Orochimaru and Sasori—a cheat-code combo—to the mix, with Kei providing access to the mental network and system-generated tools, and you had the ultimate stacked team. It was like Gojo Satoru saying, "I'll win," with full confidence.
After Sasori's explanation, Kei had no doubts they could pull it off. All they needed now was time, resources, and more manpower.
Though shadow clones could handle some of the work, they weren't Naruto-level cheat codes. Even Naruto couldn't use clones for constant labor once he became Hokage.
Eventually, the duo would need skilled personnel and a basic industrial framework.
Which meant: Konoha needed to grow, and Konoha needed to support them.
Thankfully, Konoha had already issued its ninja-world-wide recruitment decree. And given its influence, the results would likely outshine anything from history.
Soon, all kinds of talent would be flocking to Konoha to contribute to its rise.
And with Kei's mental network now supporting learning modules and time-dilation features—even if still in "beta"—everyone in the know believed it would eventually roll out to the public.
At the very least, Kei could already use it to train Konoha's specialists. In fact, he could directly drag people into a Mangekyō-level genjutsu via intense eye contact.
Of course, that was wildly inefficient, so Kei wasn't about to do it unless necessary.
Since the satellite network would take time to build, they were starting with a more traditional approach: ground-based relay towers.
At the very least, the Land of Fire had to be thoroughly covered. If war broke out, Konoha needed seamless communication.
From there, nearby countries would also be brought under coverage, keeping the battle outside national borders while ensuring constant communication.
And if they did invade enemy territory, they could quickly set up temporary base stations to maintain network access.
This was a key node on Konoha's information warfare tech tree. Satellite or not, they needed this control.
Satellites had their limitations—go underground or into a shielded facility, and the signal could vanish.
Wired stations solved that. And in future open-source stages, regional networks might become even more useful than satellites.
So yes—ground stations were a must. And Orochimaru and Sasori had already optimized their initial designs.
Production was underway, though installation required trained personnel, who were now in training.
Once trained, they'd be dispatched to install the towers.
It was right around this time that the Sand Village delegation arrived.
At the head of the group stood Rasa. Looking at the now-bustling Konoha—far more prosperous than their last visit—his feelings were... complicated.
Though the higher-ups had concluded Konoha was walking a misguided path and would eventually collapse for abandoning tradition, Rasa couldn't help but feel a surge of envy.
Compared to Konoha, the Hidden Sand was a backwater village.
He comforted himself, telling himself it was all a fleeting illusion, destined to fade.
That might have worked for Rasa. Maybe even for others in the know.
But not everyone was so good at self-soothing. Not everyone could rationalize away the sheer disparity. And not everyone knew what the higher-ups believed.
Take Pakura , for example—the future hero of the Sand Village. Right now, she was just a 21-year-old jōnin. Not even an elite yet. A rising star, yes—but still green.
She hadn't been told anything. Not about Konoha's so-called downfall. Not about any high-level theories.
So when she saw Konoha's thriving, vibrant prosperity, her pupils trembled.
It was like a villager from a remote island suddenly finding themselves in the heart of a bustling metropolis.
Shocked didn't even begin to cover it.
And beneath her mask, no one could see the storm of emotions raging inside her.
That's when a cheerful voice broke through the tension.
"Welcome, welcome! Rasa-dono! So glad to have you back in Konoha! This time, we *must* have a proper drink together."
Everyone turned toward the voice and saw a Konoha shinobi in his thirties jogging over with a bright grin.
Rasa's face lit up. "Suimu-aniki! I figured it'd be you again."
Sarutobi Suimu laughed. "Of course it's me. The second I heard the Sand Village delegation was being led by you again, I snatched the hosting duty."
"Don't worry. I'll make sure this trip is everything you hoped for."
There was a knowing edge to his voice.
Rasa chuckled. "Then I'll be counting on you."
The two old friends shared a hearty laugh, as if nothing had changed.
The veteran Sand shinobi weren't surprised by the exchange. But younger members like Pakura were stunned, confused, and... anxious.
Rasa seemed way too close with this Konoha ninja. It was unsettling.
Pakura wanted to speak up, to question something—but she held back.
Before they left, the Third Kazekage had warned her: listen, observe, and learn. Don't act on your own. Don't question the actions of the elders. They knew what they were doing.
So Pakura bit her tongue and watched in silence as Rasa and Suimu shared laughs, then departed for a place called "Heaven on Earth," planning to spend the day there.
The rest of the delegation was told they could stay at the embassy or explore the village.
The veterans knew the drill. No one was surprised. Some were even delighted.
After all, if Rasa got to go play, they did too—as long as someone stayed behind to keep watch.
In fact, visiting Konoha was seen as a prime assignment these days.
Not only could they see and try all sorts of new things, but Konoha goods sold like gold back in the Sand Village.
Shopping for resale had become a normal part of these trips.
Every time they came to Konoha, they'd stock up, then resell the goods at high prices back home.
So now, visits to Konoha were treated like deluxe field trips—and the limited slots were getting competitive.
The older members of the delegation quickly began guiding the newbies through the village, passing on shopping tips and best practices.
And just like that, Pakura and the others found their eyes opened to a whole new world.