The night in Konoha tonight was unusually dark, as if soaked in ink.
Within the thick darkness of the Forest of Death, at the edge of a slope where a stone cave nestled, shadows of snakes slithered through the undergrowth.
Sss... sss...
As if sensing something, the heads of the snakes lifted slightly, their crimson tongues flicking out warily.
In the distance, atop a tree, several masked black figures appeared silently like owls, unnoticed by the snake swarm.
"Is it here?" The lead figure, wearing light armor and bearing the face of Sarutobi Hiruzen, spoke softly. His expression was grim as he gazed toward the seemingly bottomless cave ahead, muttering with a heavy and complex tone.
"Scatter."
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The shadows behind him dispersed instantly, spreading outward like wings, covering the area in sharp talons and beaks.
This was the Special Assassination Tactical Squad, known for efficiency, cruelty, and composure.
Recently in Konoha, many lower-ranked shinobi, chunin, and even ANBU had disappeared without explanation. Remember, those who joined the ANBU were at least special jonin with unique skills—figures considered pillars within some ninja clans.
Even with Danzō Shimura's cover-up in the shadows, it was impossible to erase all traces completely.
And what enraged and puzzled Danzō further was that today a Hyūga clan elder from the Main House had died, and the director of Konoha Hospital had vanished right under their noses.
Had Orochimaru gone mad?
Eventually, this matter reached Sarutobi, who had been preoccupied with border conflicts in the Land of Fire. Immediately, he thought of recent rumors about Orochimaru's abnormal activities...
"Orochimaru..."
After a moment of silence, Sarutobi and two ANBU members vanished, leaving only a sigh that seemed both disappointed and regretful.
Meanwhile, deep beneath the cave, within a labyrinthine underground drainage system—cold, damp, and pitch-black.
Drip... drip...
Only the sound of wastewater falling into stagnant pools echoed.
Yet in an open, dimly lit space, the area had already been transformed into a secret laboratory.
"No matter how many times I see it, I'm still amazed by the intricacy and wonder of this body."
Looking down at the lifeless corpse on the operating table, Orochimaru's desire and greed overflowed.
He had traveled across the ninja world before, encountering many well-preserved ancient corpses, but they were either distorted skulls with bulging eyes or limbs swollen beyond clothing.
But this corpse was different. Its features were delicate, almost otherworldly; the skin soft, the hair lustrous and flowing, even the eyelashes intact. The eyes were closed, as though merely sleeping.
However, the body showed signs of severe dehydration, and all the muscles had atrophied.
Orochimaru confirmed the boy was dead—but the body still retained a degree of vitality.
To him, it felt as if the "soul" had escaped, leaving behind an empty shell...
"This is a member of the Ōtsutsuki clan," Orochimaru's chest rose and fell slightly, his tongue licking dry lips.
After all, according to the ancient records of the Hyūga clan, the Ōtsutsuki were the divine race that created chakra and ninjutsu—an existence with immense life force and soul power.
Still, even the Ōtsutsuki bled red blood, not the sacred fluids of gods.
Based on his hypothesis, if he could transplant all the organs from this body, he might reverse-engineer his own physical structure and bloodline, gaining extraordinary talent in ninjutsu and an unparalleled lifespan.
Such surgery could only be performed by him—no one else, not even Tsunade, could manage it.
It was as if it had been prepared especially for him.
Thinking thus, Orochimaru turned his gaze to another operating table beside him, meeting the wide, fearful white eyes of a teenage boy—and the angry, aged face next to him.
The former was a boy around fifteen or sixteen years old, coincidentally about the same age as the corpse. His long black hair flowed like silk, his young face pale and tense, the cursed mark shaped like a swastika glaringly visible on his forehead.
Throughout Konoha, and indeed the entire ninja world, only the Hyūga possessed such pure white eyes. And only Branch House members bore the ugly caged bird curse seal.
Hyūga Unkawa.
That was the name of this boy.
The corpse of the Ōtsutsuki, along with ancient scrolls detailing forbidden knowledge of the Hyūga clan, had all been willingly offered to Orochimaru by Unkawa.
According to the scroll's description, the Hyūga were direct blood descendants of the Ōtsutsuki clan. Therefore, the transplantation would likely yield the best results, avoiding rejection complications.
"Unkawa, now we're left with just the heart. Are you ready?"
Orochimaru smiled with a gentle yet sinister expression, deliberately omitting honorifics when addressing him.
This kind of address usually implied either intimacy or a clear hierarchy, but clearly, there was no closeness between them. It was more of a statement—"Everything you have belongs to me."
Indeed, that was the case.
Once the organ transplant was complete, Orochimaru would implant a curse seal on him, quickly develop reincarnation techniques, find a way to break the Caged Bird Seal, and finally take over this perfect body.
Orochimaru wasn't worried about things slipping out of control. After all, this was just a fifteen-year-old child—one deemed a "failure" by the Hyūga.
"Lord Orochimaru, please proceed."
Though fear lingered in his expression, Unkawa's voice was firm. In his eyes burned admiration and gratitude: "You avenged my parents by killing that old man. I offer my powerless body willingly to your cause."
Hearing this, Orochimaru smirked. Sneaking into the Hyūga compound and killing a Main House elder had taken effort, but his beloved mentor would surely know it was him soon enough.
Unfortunately, he needed full concentration for the surgery and had to use sealing techniques to maintain life support. He couldn't afford to waste energy maintaining illusions—the recipient had to remain conscious.
So he granted Unkawa's request—to kill the Main House elder who had driven his parents to death—thus ensuring willing cooperation.
No matter. He had long grown tired of Konoha. As long as he unlocked the secrets of the Ōtsutsuki, even exile would be worth it.
"Orochimaru, what are you planning to do?"
The speaker was an elderly man in a white coat—the missing hospital director of Konoha, secretly trained by Danzō under the codename "Owl."
Now, Owl looked at Orochimaru with shock, anger—and above all—fear.
Orochimaru, however, ignored him entirely. Soon enough, this old man would obey regardless.
With that thought, Orochimaru cleared his mind, and after confirming everything was ready, activated the complex sealing array beneath his feet.
Szzzt!
Black markings covered Unkawa's body, binding him while simultaneously channeling chakra. External circulatory devices were engaged—tubes connected to major arteries and veins.
At this point, Unkawa's kidneys, liver, pancreas, gallbladder—all had been replaced with internal organs from the Ōtsutsuki corpse. Only the most critical and dangerous remained—the heart.
Snap.
Chakra surged into Orochimaru's hand, forming a surgical blade. The tip traced along Unkawa's flesh and bones, slicing open the chest cavity to reveal the pulsating organs inside. With focus, he carefully removed the beating heart, preserving part of the posterior wall of the left atrium and right atrial tissue.
Turning, he retrieved the Ōtsutsuki heart from the corpse. Though still, it was bright red. Orochimaru cradled it reverently, his hands steady despite his excitement.
And then, gently, he placed the Ōtsutsuki heart into Unkawa's body.
"You're attempting a heart transplant?!" Owl suddenly gasped, breaking his silence. "Do you really think the two of us can pull this off?"
"I think you can," Orochimaru replied coldly, glancing at the old man. "Because if you can't, what comes next will be far messier. Don't you agree?"
Owl's wrinkled face twitched, but he obediently stepped forward to the operating table.
Orochimaru began suturing the blood vessels. His methods were primitive and reckless—if even one vessel failed, the patient would teeter on the brink of death.
But under the careful coordination of Orochimaru and Owl, vast amounts of chakra flooded into Unkawa's body, continuously sustaining his life force like a miracle.
Minute by minute passed. Orochimaru even had to dismiss one of his shadow clones—prepared earlier to store chakra—due to excessive depletion.
Thankfully, the blood vessels began healing, and even the cross-shaped incision on the chest started to close under the power of the Mystical Palm Technique.
"Just one last step. I'll remove the life-support barrier."
Exhausted from chakra loss, Owl could barely stand. Orochimaru's already pale complexion had turned ghostly white as he stared intently at Unkawa's body.
"Unkawa… don't disappoint me."
Success or failure now hinged on whether Unkawa could endure this power—
The power of the Ōtsutsuki.
Thump!
A thunderous heartbeat echoed through the room. Veins crawled across Unkawa's body like leaf veins—visible and bluish.
On the monitor, life signs previously sustained artificially began fluctuating violently.
"Ahh!!"
Despite being mentally prepared, the pain that tore through Unkawa's body was unbearable. A scream erupted from him—raw, desperate.
Blood pumped by the heart seemed to boil in his veins, bursting capillaries on exposed skin. His body temperature skyrocketed to a feverish level—as if molten iron ran instead of blood.
"Use your chakra! Use it to suppress and control the heart—calm it down!" Orochimaru ordered.
Bzzzzz!
Veins bulged around Unkawa's eyes, and chakra burst forth, making Orochimaru's pupils contract sharply.
But soon, the struggling ceased. The rising vital signs on the monitor halted abruptly, then plummeted at an alarming rate. Alarms screamed shrilly in the lab.
"Damn it!" Orochimaru's face darkened. "The Hyūga should be the most compatible recipients. How could he fail so quickly?!"
If even Unkawa couldn't survive, he'd have to kidnap someone from the Hyūga Main House.
No choice now—before the heart died, he had to cut it out and preserve it.
Just as he turned to act, using his remaining chakra to form the surgical blade—
Thump…
A faint sound reached his ears, halting his motion. He looked up sharply at the boy before him.
Thump!
Unkawa's eyes remained closed, but a muffled beat came from his chest—clearer than before.
The lab fell into eerie silence, broken only by the pounding of the heart.
Thump! Thump-thump!
Gradually, the dull thuds evolved—from distant pattering rain to thunderous drumbeats echoing from within his chest.
"What is this…?"
Joy uncontrollably spread across Orochimaru's face as he slowly approached Unkawa, as though walking toward ultimate truth. Golden, vertically slit pupils glanced instinctively at the monitors.
Indeed, the vitals were stabilizing—rising to superhuman levels, terrifying in their intensity.
In other words… finally…
"Yes."
Someone answered Orochimaru, voice soft, like telling a beautiful fairy tale.
"Finally… success." He said.
Startled with delight, Orochimaru paused, following the voice with a glance.
He met a pair of familiar-yet-strange eyes.
Those once-pure white irises now shimmered with layers of color under the surgical lamp—like molten glass, shifting between pale blue and white.
But this wasn't what unsettled Orochimaru.
Rather, it was the total lack of emotion in those eyes—utterly calm, like a bottomless abyss.
In an instant, the blood spilled moments ago evaporated into steam, red mist rising to shroud his face.
Blood rushed like spring rivers through his veins. Every cell breathed freely, like sprouting buds breaking through rock. Tremendous power surged through every limb and sinew.
"You…"
Seeing this, Owl's pupils widened, mouth opening to speak.
But the next moment—
Puchi!
The slash was swift—painless except for the cold kiss of death.
As silent as wind through the night, the blade cut through flesh, its sound swallowed by the breeze.
Instinctively, Orochimaru turned his head. A faint tearing sound followed, and a sharp sting bloomed on his cheek.
A red line crept slowly across his face, inching until it stopped at his cheekbone. Blood splattered like drifting reed flowers, trickling wetly down his cheek.
Beside him, Owl staggered, vision spinning and flipping.
Thud!
The headless body collapsed to its knees, blood geysering from the severed neck, turning the lab into a crimson storm.
The head hit the ground with a melon-like crack, rolling across the floor, leaving a trail of blood. Its eyes remained open in disbelief, drowning in its own pool.
And from the decapitated neck, blood spewed like a fountain, drenching the remaining two figures in a rain of gore.
"I've waited too long for this day."
Unkawa looked at his palm, brimming with chakra-infused surgical blade. Blood dripped like spring water from leaves, collecting at his fingertips. He raised his gaze to Orochimaru and smiled.
"On such a night, silence should reign."
Three years… three long years…
Finally completed the potential of this frail body, obtaining the true Ōtsutsuki bloodline—and…
[Ding!]
[Your Lie [Ōtsutsuki Corpse & Descendant] has been judged as [Playing the Part][Sweet Words, Hidden Dagger][Reality Over Pretense]. Orochimaru experiences intense emotional fluctuations, reaching [Total Belief]. You gain 10,000 Reality Points.]
[Evaluation: Deceptive tricks, like shadows dancing on walls—even the small may cast giant silhouettes.]
[Remaining Reality Points: 10,041]
"..."
Orochimaru stared at the youthful face. In his memory, this face always wore timid expressions.
But now, it wore a deep, unfathomable smile.
Like a child pressing an ant under its finger, watching it struggle, then crushing it gently.
Pure evil.
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