Jiraiya's suggestion that Satoru and the others rest a few days in the Land of Hot Springs came from genuine concern. No one understood Orochimaru better than he did—even elites like Hyūga Satoru had to treat Orochimaru with caution.
When the village's safety was at stake, Jiraiya stood firmly on Konoha's side. This time, he truly intended to help Satoru's team track Orochimaru down.
Two days of rest later, once everyone had recovered their peak condition, Satoru and the others went to find Jiraiya again. This time, Jiraiya didn't quibble or stall—he took the initiative and led them toward the Land of Grass.
Unlike the gloomy mood he'd shown at the hot spring, Jiraiya had regained his usual, easygoing personality during the journey. The further they walked, the more like himself he became.
"Hey, brat," Jiraiya asked as they traveled, "once we find Orochimaru, what's the plan?"
"You aiming to capture him alive and wring him for intel?"
He snorted softly.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but even with me here, this lineup probably can't take Orochimaru alive."
"Killing him… that's a bit more realistic."
Dark clouds pressed low overhead, smothering the sky. After several days of travel, the group had already crossed into the Land of Grass and were sprinting across a wide, wind-swept meadow. Sensing they were drawing close to Orochimaru's secret base, Jiraiya finally couldn't hold back the question.
From just a few days of interaction, he could already tell who truly led this little investigation squad.
He'd been surprised at first that Minato had entrusted such a dangerous mission to someone so young. But once he'd seen Satoru fight, that surprise faded. In the shinobi world, there were always prodigies whose strength outpaced their age and experience.
"If we can take him alive, that's ideal," Satoru replied. "If not, then we try to cooperate with Orochimaru."
Jiraiya raised a brow. Satoru continued calmly:
"Even though Orochimaru defected from Konoha, I don't think he bears some deep, personal hatred for the village itself."
As he spoke, Satoru quietly weighed Orochimaru's psychology.
To an outsider, his words might sound soft-hearted. But in truth, Satoru understood that Orochimaru absolutely had grievances—against Konoha, and especially against the Third Hokage.
Once, Orochimaru had been the Third's favored disciple, entrusted with the taboo research into Hashirama's cells. He'd thrown himself into his teacher's work, fought at the front in the early war years, and taken on bloody, secret missions.
By strength, he wasn't far beneath Minato.
By contribution, he had earned more than enough "credit."
By relationship, he was the Third's own student.
In Orochimaru's view, he had every qualification to become Hokage.
And then, when the Third retired… that mantle fell to Minato instead.
For someone with Orochimaru's pride, that was a wound that cut to the bone.
His later attack on Konoha was partly about the Sharingan, partly about experimental materials—but it was also revenge. Not just revenge on his teacher, but a twisted desire to protect his teacher's legacy.
By killing Hiruzen Sarutobi in a blaze of spectacle, he froze the Third's glory at its peak in the village's collective memory. No more aging, no more gradual decline—only the immortal image of "The Professor" who died defending Konoha.
Satoru's view of the world had already moved beyond simple labels like "good" and "evil." If you wanted to live comfortably in the shinobi world, you couldn't let yourself be shackled by only those words.
Orochimaru's actions were unquestionably evil.
But that didn't mean Satoru was obligated to play moral police and eradicate him at any cost. If cooperating with such a man could better protect his clan and family, then cooperation was on the table.
After all, even in the "original" future, Naruto could tolerate Orochimaru's existence and even care for his clone child. That alone showed a Hokage's breadth: measuring people by "useful" and "dangerous," not purely by personal moral disgust.
If every Hokage behaved like the Second—forever stamping "evil" on the Uchiha and driving them into a corner—Konoha would never have become stable or strong. History had proven that under the Second's rule, Konoha's internal fractures and external humiliations were at their worst. Even Cloud shinobi dared run wild on their soil.
Satoru's current perspective hadn't yet reached the Hokage level, but as the future head of the Hyūga clan, he could already see the balance clearly:
From his standpoint, Orochimaru was malleable. Danzo, on the other hand, was not.
Someone like Danzo thrived on internal strife and offered no value beyond destabilizing the village. Someone like Orochimaru, at least, could be used.
From Satoru's tone, Jiraiya could faintly sense his attitude toward Orochimaru. Hearing that Satoru didn't charge in seeking Orochimaru's death, he quietly let out a breath.
The small elite squad moved quickly across the grasslands. The sky grew heavier; though it was only midday, the world around them dimmed like dusk. Thin rain began to fall, whispering against blades of grass.
Activating his Byakugan, Satoru watched the hazy curtain of rain with narrowed eyes. His stride faltered for a moment as he focused, sensing carefully.
"Satoru, what's wrong?" Jiraiya noticed his hesitation. "Tired? The base is close—keep moving."
"No. Just overthinking it," Satoru replied. "We're almost there. Let's speed up."
His caution was borderline paranoia.
The rain felt natural… but Satoru couldn't help suspecting it might be more than weather—a sensory technique, perhaps.
Now that he knew Orochimaru was linked to that organization, he'd grown wary of any potential sensor watching from afar. Nagato's rain-sensing technique and the memory of those white Zetsu spores had left deep impressions on him. On rainy days, especially outside Konoha, Satoru never skipped a thorough check.
Because Kakuzu had escaped earlier, he knew there was a real chance he'd already been quietly marked on someone's radar—Obito's, or Nagato's, or someone else's in Akatsuki.
No matter how strong you were, marching straight into a prepared trap was never wise.
After a brief pause, they resumed their pace. Under the Byakugan's scrutiny, Satoru scanned the landscape and soon located something buried beneath the plain—a spacious underground structure.
If he was right, that subterranean maze was Orochimaru's secret base.
Just as Satoru's sight locked onto the complex, Jiraiya—who had been running ahead—came to a sharp halt.
"The base is only a few kilometers away," he murmured. "From here on, keep quiet."
He gathered chakra at his feet and leapt forward, body light and silent. His landings barely disturbed the grass.
Everyone held their breath and followed.
As they drew closer, Satoru refined his Byakugan view of the interior.
The underground compound was vast and clearly active. Labs, cells, storage… the chakra signatures moved through corridors like currents in a dark river.
One presence stood out above all the rest.
Orochimaru.
His chakra was twisted, snakelike, and unmistakably warped by layers of body modification. In the central chamber, Satoru could see him hunched over a desk, reading scrolls and jotting notes.
Hn. Hardworking as ever.
While Satoru studied the pattern of the guards and traps inside, the meadow in front of them shifted.
A stone slab disguised as part of the field slid aside, revealing a hidden gate beneath the grass.
"Trap!" Shisui and Kakashi shouted at the same time.
Both reacted instantly, pulling Satoru back and dropping into guarded stances.
A heartbeat later, a buried explosive tag detonated where Maito Guy had just stepped. The explosion sent him tumbling, his body skidding across broken soil.
The blast also triggered a sealing formula hidden deeper underground. White smoke surged up, and a huge summoning array blossomed across the grass.
With a deafening crack, a monstrous three-headed serpent slammed into existence, its massive body coiling and rearing up to block their path.
"Hssssss—"
Three heads swayed as one, tongues flickering in and out. A foul odor billowed from its jaws, riding a pinkish venomous mist that rapidly spread along the ground.
Where the haze brushed the vibrant grass, the plants blackened and melted into foul sludge.
"Scatter!" Jiraiya barked.
He recognized the summoning the instant he saw it.
Clamping a hand over his mouth and nose, he sprang backward and yelled a warning:
"Don't breathe it in—that mist is poison!"
Guy, still recovering from the blast, barely had time to brace himself before the toxic smoke washed toward him.
Kakashi stepped in at once.
"Wind Release—break it up!"
He formed rapid seals and loosed a sharp gust. Kakashi's chakra affinity wasn't pure wind, but even a basic wind technique was enough to blow the advancing mist aside, thinning it out before it could overwhelm Guy.
Supporting Guy with one arm, Kakashi retreated, increasing the distance between them and the three-headed serpent.
The serpent coiled tightly, forming a living wall before the underground gate. Its many eyes glared coldly at Jiraiya and the others; its scales glistened in the rain, giving off a metallic sheen.
Kakashi pulled a kunai and, more out of habit than hope, flicked it at one of the heads.
The kunai bounced off the scales with a sharp metallic clang and spun away, not even leaving a mark.
"…"
Kakashi's silence spoke volumes.
Ordinary methods weren't going to scratch this thing—and this was just Orochimaru's outer guard beast.
For most shinobi, reaching this place at all would already be impressive.
Passing this gate guardian? Almost impossible.
Shisui and Kakashi both frowned, minds racing. Neither of their conventional styles were ideal here. Kakashi had Raikiri, which might pierce the snake's defense—but the toxic miasma made close-quarters engagement dangerous.
Guy understood the situation as well.
Without opening any of the Eight Gates, his raw strength alone probably wasn't enough to seriously injure a creature like this. He could fight powerful enemies—but this aberrant monster required more than pure taijutsu.
Even so, Guy didn't hesitate.
He raised his hands, stance shifting slightly as he prepared to open the Gates and crash through with brute force.
Before he could, Satoru flashed to his side and clamped a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait. No need to open the Gates for this."
Satoru's tone was relaxed, almost amused.
"Jiraiya's here. A guardian beast at this level isn't worth you shortening your lifespan."
He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes flicking to the white-haired Sannin.
"Right, Jiraiya-sensei?"
Jiraiya snorted.
"Tch… make the teacher do all the work, why don't you?"
Despite the grumbling, his hands were already forming seals.
To Shisui and Kakashi, still adjusting to the sight of such a massive summoned creature, the transition was almost dizzying.
One moment, they were facing a poisonous three-headed serpent.
The next—
The grass under the serpent's coils turned the color of dried blood.
The earth liquefied.
Yellow Springs Swamp!
A huge Earth Release technique spread outward, the solid field dissolving into a deep, sucking bog.
Large-scale earth-style jutsu of this magnitude required both enormous chakra reserves and extremely refined control over earth nature transformation. In the entire ninja world, shinobi capable of shaping the ground like this were rare.
The mire spread in a circle nearly a hundred meters wide, swallowing the serpent from below. For all its menace, the three-headed beast still had the instincts of a wild animal: the harder it fought the pull, the faster it sank.
In just a few breaths, half its massive body was submerged.
Then the descent slowed.
"Oh?" Jiraiya muttered. "So that's not enough, huh?"
His hands shifted signs smoothly.
"Fire Release—Fire Dragon Flame Bullet!"
A roaring vortex of flame erupted from his lips, spiraling into the rain-soaked sky before crashing down in a blazing arc onto the trapped beast.
The serpent let out a thunderous hiss—and then exploded into a plume of white smoke, vanishing cleanly in a summoning cancel.
The blast of heat washed over the meadow, reflecting in Kakashi and Shisui's eyes. For a moment, it painted Jiraiya's silhouette in harsh red-gold firelight.
Watching that effortless combination of earth and fire, both of them felt the same thing:
This was one of the Legendary Sannin.
Not just a perverted novelist soaking in baths—but a monster on the battlefield.
…And this was only the warm-up before meeting Orochimaru.
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