"Original-World Stripping Technique?" the serpent hissed incredulously. "That's a triple-element dust-cutter—earth, fire, wind fused into a bloodline ritual beyond its limits. It ignores defenses and splits souls. Only a Kage-level wielder could pull that off. A child like you can't possibly—"
Ryuuto smiled, teeth bared. "So… you're saying you don't want me to try it on you?"
The giant snake's arrogance faltered. There's terrifying arrogance, and then there's the quiet sort that steps on people and still grins. Ryuuto had that grin.
"Ten Thousand Snakes," he said softly, hand laid on the serpent's crown. "You've been fierce for a long time. You were loyal to someone who fed you corpses and cruelty. I won't be that kind of master. Eat if you must—there are living bodies everywhere now. But you follow me, or you'll lose the only thing you can call yourself."
A rumble rolled from the beast's throat. Then, impossibly, a low "thank you."
"I don't say that often," the snake muttered. "I have no master—only partners. Orochimaru fed me bodies and experiments. Tasted… bad."
"Next time you'll taste real life," Ryuuto replied. "Rest. Heal. I'll summon you when I need you."
It nudged his hand with a scaly snout—a snake's version of an oath—and slithered back into the smoke of the summoning world.
Ryuuto checked the sync status on his wrist HUD.
[Orochimaru Data Pack: 58% synchronized.]
"Halfway there," he muttered. "Keep going."
Orochimaru's pack contained terrible, brilliant things—the Reanimation jutsu, Living-Corpse Reincarnation, forbidden binding seals. The true prize was Living-Corpse Reincarnation: transfer your spirit into another body and keep your jutsu forever. Immortality, with a terrible price. He didn't like the idea of abandoning his body, but the option… was dangerous and powerful.
"Enough moping—practice," he told himself, and the forest answered.
"Shadow Clone Technique!"
Thirty copies burst into being, all Ryuuto's smirk multiplied. He followed with Expansion Jutsu—clones swelling into hulking versions of himself. The sight was absurd and terrifying; even a summon-beast schooled in jutsu glanced oddly.
The Ten Thousand Snakes struck like an avalanche. Ryuuto hopped, swapped positions with a clone—then paused. The snake's strikes weren't random. How could it track him so fast?
He remembered: snakes don't rely on sight—heat signatures. Clones and body doubles read colder; his living heat betrayed him.
Time to push the advantage.
All the clones raised their palms. Chakra coalesced into blue spirals—the familiar hum of Rasengan multiplied.
[S.H.I.E.L.D. Satellite: Massive energy spike detected near Axville Mutant School. Nick Fury: "Not our circus."]
"Multi–Rasengan!" Ryuuto shouted, and a volley of spinning blue spheres tore forward.
The serpent tried to slip away—then Ryuuto slammed a palm on the soil. "Earth Style: Dynamic Core!"
The ground threw up a mountain of earth that snagged the beast's chin and stopped its escape. Rasengan after Rasengan slammed into exposed scales; blood and ichor painted the trunks and leaves.
When the dust cleared, the serpent lay wounded, wheezing. Ryuuto strode forward, the wind flattening around him.
"Obey me," he said in a voice that brooked no argument. "Or I erase you—every trace—here and in the summoning realm. You'll have no home to crawl back to."
For the first time in centuries, the king of snakes hesitated. He bowed his head.
[Ding! Contract established: Ten Thousand Snakes.]
[Orochimaru Data Pack: 100% synchronized.]
Shion's lazy voice chimed in his ear. [Congrats, Host. You've officially got a creepy-snake guild under your command. Don't hiss at guests.]
Ryuuto flicked a thumb at the HUD. "Shut up and calibrate my training schedule."
He had power now—old, shadowed power stitched into his blood—and a road of terrible choices ahead. Immortality was a tool; living with its consequences was another matter.
As he walked back toward the academy, Jean met him at the gate, brows tight. "We've got more problems—Quicksilver's been evasive, and someone's turned Burning Man into a ghost."
Ryuuto's lips curved into a grin sharp enough to cut. "Good. The stage's filling up."
Somewhere in Ryuuto's chest, the grim little voice of the system hummed: more data, more danger, more teeth to sharpen. He had a serpent that answered his call, forbidden jutsu humming in his blood— and people who'd call him a freak the day before would soon be calling him something else.
He licked his lips. The game had changed.
…..
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