Hayashi couldn't experiment with his new jutsu on Hokage Rock. The moment he pulled out a single explosive tag, a patrol from the Security Department appeared.
According to them, destroying cultural relics—if serious enough—could lead to revocation of a ninja license. Hayashi shook his head, a faint smirk of disdain on his face.
"This building's only thirty years old," he muttered, "and you call it a cultural relic? Pathetic. Truly a village of bumpkins."
Helpless, he turned to leave. But then a sobering thought struck him: he had nowhere else to go.
Going back home? Empty.
Evenings sometimes held team gatherings, but it was still early, and he wasn't in a hurry to seek out Mikoto, Kushina, or the others.
With idle time, Hayashi decided to visit his teacher, Orochimaru. Since returning to Konoha, he had seen everyone he knew—except Orochimaru.
The sky burned a fiery orange as the autumn sun dipped toward the horizon. Hayashi walked casually, enjoying the warm glow, heading in the direction of Konoha's prison.
Orochimaru's laboratory wasn't actually inside the prison. Though his tastes were eccentric, they weren't that extreme. His lab was nearby because of its proximity to the prison—where he could access certain research materials.
Konoha forbade human experiments publicly. But for purely medical purposes—corpse dissection, organ research, or studying bloodline limits—the village turned a blind eye. The lab's work was groundbreaking; Konoha relied on such innovations for advanced medical ninjutsu.
Where did the corpses come from? Naturally, from Konoha's prison: abandoned prisoners of war, criminals from other villages, and certain domestic criminals. Konoha would dispose of some periodically, giving Orochimaru ample "materials" without violating regulations. The lab was therefore monitored and permitted by the Third Hokage.
Alone, Hayashi reached the outskirts of Konoha in ten minutes, standing before the entrance to Orochimaru's underground lab.
The chill hit him immediately as he descended. By the time he reached the bottom, the temperature was noticeably cooler than above ground.
A stone door appeared, etched with strange patterns. As Hayashi reached to knock, a small snake slithered from a crack, nodded at him, and vanished into a hidden groove. The stone door shimmered as the snake's body merged with it, then slowly swung open.
Inside, twin braziers lit the corridor, illuminating the winding underground passage. Hayashi followed the flames for twenty minutes, finally arriving at a heavy wooden door at the end.
Pushing it open, he found Orochimaru beside the operating table, immersed in his work.
"Hayashi, have a seat for a moment," Orochimaru greeted, his voice hoarse but warm. He continued his meticulous task.
Hayashi nodded and took a chair, surveying the laboratory. Though he had heard about Orochimaru's experiments, this was his first firsthand glimpse.
The lab was surprisingly ordinary. Apart from the central operating table, a few glass cabinets filled with specimens in formaldehyde lined the walls. At first glance, it resembled nothing more than a typical hospital lab.
Orochimaru, dressed in a long white coat and rubber gloves, handled a ninja corpse with precision. Instead of scalpel tools, he relied solely on his skillful hands, carefully disarticulating joints, placing his palm over an elbow, forming a series of hand seals, and channeling chakra.
The corpse showed no response. Despite multiple adjustments in hand seals, Orochimaru found no effect and paused, frowning slightly.
"Are you testing whether a body can keep fighting when controlled by chakra after fractures?" Hayashi asked.
"Something like that," Orochimaru replied. "But it's more than that. I'm researching softening and modification. I want the body to bend freely, twist at impossible angles. Hands and feet can become whips in combat."
Hayashi's eyes glimmered.
"What is it, Hayashi? Interested?" Orochimaru asked.
"More than interested," Hayashi said. "I… have an idea." He pushed up his imaginary glasses with a small grin.
Orochimaru blinked. "Huh… Let's set that aside for now. Right, give me some of your blood. I'm comparing the Sharingan to the Byakugan."
"How much?" Hayashi asked.
"Just a small amount," Orochimaru said, rummaging through a cabinet. After some searching, he pulled out a syringe—four times larger than normal hospital syringes.
Hayashi stared. "Small amount… huh, sensei?"
_____
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