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Within his laboratory, Orochimaru was lost in his research.
The acquisition of the White Zetsu's body had led to a massive breakthrough in all of his experiments.
Take the Impure World Reincarnation, for example.
His studies showed that a standard revival using this technique left the resurrected unable to match even a fraction of their former power—the gap was enormous.
But if the sacrificial vessel was a White Zetsu's body… that gap shrank dramatically.
Then there was his research into immortality.
True immortality, Orochimaru reasoned, required conquering the problem of physical decay. Every body had a limit to its cell division. Once that limit was approached, division slowed, leading to aging, and eventually, to total cellular death. Yet, the human mind, the soul, did not decay alongside the flesh.
His solution was a technique to transfer his consciousness, his soul, into another's body—a cycle of shedding old shells for new, granting endless life.
But he'd hit a roadblock. After a soul transfer, the host body's cells went into overdrive, dividing at a frantic pace until they hit their absolute limit and simply… stopped. The body would collapse. It didn't age; it burned out.
The cause was simple. A soul and its original body were a perfect, unique match. Like a specific sword requiring its specific sheath. Force a different sword into that sheath, and the sheath itself must warp and change to accommodate it.
A body receiving a foreign soul did the same. It would accelerate cellular division, desperately trying to reshape itself to fit the new occupant. But cells have a finite lifespan. Push them to that limit, and the vessel dies.
For years, Orochimaru's research focused on suppressing this cellular acceleration—stretching a host body's usable time from a week, to a month, to a year. The longer the suppression, the more complex it became.
Without the White Zetsu, he'd likely still be stuck on that problem.
But the White Zetsu changed everything.
His research revealed that transferring his soul into a White Zetsu body yielded a minimum usable lifespan of ten years. The Hashirama cells within provided immense vitality, allowing the body to withstand the accelerated division far longer.
The White Zetsu was a miraculous, universal material.
It sparked a new ambition in him.
He knew of the experiment with the sixty infants and Hashirama cell transplants. One survived—Yamato. That proved the underlying gene-editing technology worked.
What if he used a White Zetsu as a base template? Employed gene editing, cell transplantation, cloning… and crafted a body designed from the ground up to be perfectly compatible with his soul? That wouldn't just be extended life. That would be true, unshackled immortality.
The first attempts might be flawed, but Orochimaru was supremely confident. Given time, he could solve any problem. He could achieve perfection.
But he wasn't ready yet. Some techniques were still immature, and he had never actually performed the soul-transfer jutsu. Theory was one thing. Experience was another.
He needed to use it. To feel its flaws firsthand, then refine it.
Of the original five White Zetsu, two remained. One for final experiments. The other… would be his first vessel.
It still wasn't enough. He'd have to ask Qianyu for more later.
Orochimaru left his lab. A snake waited by the door. Seeing him, it contorted, opened its maw, and regurgitated a slime-covered ring and a piece of paper.
Orochimaru picked them up without a hint of disgust.
The note had a single line:
[They move against you tomorrow night. Use the ring to contact me. Until next time, Orochimaru-sensei.]
A faint smile touched Orochimaru's lips. Not a happy one. A satisfied one.
He had stayed in Konoha for this very moment, waiting for Hiruzen Sarutobi to make his move. The day had finally come.
Hiruzen had raised him. It was only fitting that Hiruzen be the one to end this chapter, to sever the final tie.
After leaving Konoha… true freedom awaited. No more hiding. No more restraints.
That was why he hadn't used either the perfected Edo Tensei or his immortality jutsu yet. Too risky within the village walls. Too many potential complications.
Now, he could finally begin.
He pocketed the ring, incinerated the note, and began methodically packing his laboratory.
The Next Evening.
At the ANBU headquarters, Hiruzen Sarutobi stood clad in full combat gear.
Behind him waited five elite ANBU operatives, Kakashi among them.
Hiruzen gazed at the darkening sky, the sun now fully set. His voice was grave. "Move out."
He led the squad in a swift, silent advance toward Orochimaru's hidden base.
They arrived moments later, concealed at the perimeter. As Hiruzen moved to breach it, Kakashi's hand shot up. "Wait, Hokage-sama. There's a detection barrier. Trigger it, and Orochimaru will know we're here. I've seen Qianyu dispel it. I know the sequence."
Hiruzen gave a sharp nod. "Do it."
Kakashi was certain Qianyu had already warned Orochimaru. Since the Sannin intended to leave anyway, Kakashi saw an opportunity—to perform flawlessly, to earn deeper trust from the Third Hokage.
His hands blurred through seals before pressing against the ground. A complex sealing formula glowed faintly on the earth.
Another set of seals. A low command. "Release!"
The barrier dissolved.
Hiruzen signaled, and the squad infiltrated the base. With Kakashi guiding them through the familiar halls, they reached the sealed laboratory door without incident. Muffled sounds came from within—the clink of glass, the hum of chakra. Hiruzen's eyes hardened. Still at his work.
He didn't bother with subtlety. Chakra flared around his hand as he shattered the door's sealing formula and kicked it open, his team flooding into the room.
Orochimaru turned from his workbench. His expression was utterly calm. A smile played on his lips, but it held no warmth, no mirth. Only a cold, resigned acknowledgment.
"Welcome, Sarutobi-sensei," he said, his voice a soft hiss. "Have you come to kill me at last?"
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