Chapter 155: Orochimaru’s Amazement
The Third Hokage walked to the low table and naturally pulled out a chair to sit down.
Menma also sat down again, maintaining a silent and respectful posture, like an utterly ordinary Konoha Orphanage boy.
Naruto excitedly unwrapped the packaging rope on the gift box.
“Naruto, Menma.” Hiruzen Sarutobi looked at the two children, his tone as mild as chatting casually.
“Time passes so quickly. In the blink of an eye, you’re both almost five years old.” He paused, his gaze shifting between Naruto’s excited little face and Menma’s calm expression, before continuing slowly.
“In another year, you’ll be at the age to start school.”
Naruto suddenly looked up, ignoring the half-unwrapped gift, his blue eyes bursting with astonishing light, almost jumping up: “Ninja Academy? Really, Third Grandpa? Can I become a ninja? Great! I’m going!”
Naruto had passed by the Ninja Academy more than once and seen the joy of the students playing together when going to and from school, and he was very envious.
He also wanted to make friends with other children his age.
Hiruzen Sarutobi smiled and nodded, his gaze then turning to Menma, who had been sitting quietly all along. The smile was still warm, but deep in his eyes was a trace of imperceptible scrutiny and consideration: “What about you, Menma?”
This black-haired boy, raised in the orphanage, silent and unusually mature, appeared ordinary in his daily life and routines in the Anbu Intelligence Division’s reports, whether in the orphanage or after being adopted by the great merchant Kado.
Menma looked up, meeting the Third’s mild yet scrutinizing gaze.
There was no ripple on his face, his voice clear and calm: “Ninja Academy? It wouldn’t be bad to become a ninja. I can’t just deal with money forever after all; that would be so boring.”
Hiruzen Sarutobi burst out laughing.
That great merchant Kado was busy running business outside and only returned to Konoha once or twice a year. The child’s expressed dislike for commerce instead made Hiruzen Sarutobi want to train him into a ninja.
A Konoha ninja deeply influenced by the Will of Fire.
The smile on Hiruzen Sarutobi’s face deepened slightly, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes relaxing, quite satisfied with this answer: “Mm, very good.”
He patted Naruto’s shoulder and nodded at Menma: “Then it’s settled. One year from now, send you both to the Ninja Academy. Especially you, Naruto—don’t cause trouble in class anymore!”
“Heh heh, got it, Third Grandpa!” Naruto scratched his head and grinned sheepishly.
The Third sat for a few more moments, chatting with Naruto about trivial matters, mostly asking about his daily life and situation, occasionally asking Menma a few questions mildly, with topics always revolving around the two children’s daily lives.
Menma’s answers remained concise and proper.
Although he appeared quite mature, in Konoha there were many such mature orphans who had been forced to grow up after losing family in the war, so Hiruzen Sarutobi paid it no mind.
Under the warm yellow light, the atmosphere seemed warm and harmonious.
Until the tea in the cup was drained, Hiruzen Sarutobi slowly stood up.
“Alright, this old man won’t disturb you two little guys keeping watchnight anymore.” He picked up the pipe placed beside him.
“Remember, in the new year, work hard.” He finally gave Naruto and Menma a deep look, his gaze still mild.
“Thank you, Hokage-sama. Please take care.” Menma respectfully stood to see him off.
“See you, Third Grandpa!” Naruto waved vigorously.
The door closed gently, shutting out the wind and snow outside, and also that departing figure carrying an intangible pressure.
The house fell quiet again, only the lingering warm aroma of ramen broth remaining.
Naruto was still immersed in the huge excitement of going to the Ninja Academy, chattering away.
Menma sat down again, picking up the cup of long-cold tea but not drinking it.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling on the snowy night scene outside the window.
Menma’s fingertips lightly traced the cold surface of the teacup, the corners of his mouth curving into an imperceptible arc, carrying a cold edge.
He spoke softly, his voice as light as a sigh, drowned in Naruto’s excited words.
“Konoha 56, what big event was that again?”
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Deep in the heart of the Star Capital, cold alloy corridors wound downward, eventually reaching a vast space enveloped by a high-strength barrier.
This laboratory was personally overseen in construction by Guren, who commanded Crystal Release bloodline limit under Orochimaru, transformed from an existing underground facility in the Star Capital, and now served as a cooperative laboratory for Shura and Orochimaru’s research.
Stark shadowless lamps illuminated everything in exquisite detail, the air filled with the mingled scent of disinfectant, culture medium, and a faint but persistent bloody aura, cold enough to freeze breath.
At the center of the laboratory, Kimimaro Kaguya lay quietly flat on the operating table gleaming with metallic cold light.
The boy’s frame was slender, his skin a sickly, almost transparent pale bluish-white, fine beads of sweat sliding down his temple into his silver-white hair.
He wore only a simple white lab robe, its open collar revealing his chest rising and falling slightly with breaths, visible faint pink surgical scars not yet fully healed.
Most striking were the slightly bulging, brand-new contours of the eye sockets beneath his tightly closed eyelids.
Orochimaru stood right by the operating table.
He still wore his signature loose kimono, shimenawa tied at the waist, long black hair casually draped.
At this moment, his narrow, inhuman golden slit pupils flickering with probing desire were fixed tightly on a specially made syringe in his hand.
Inside the syringe, blood was slowly being drawn from the vein in Kimimaro’s arm bend.
That blood, under the strong light, showed an eerie hue, no longer purely red, occasionally catching a glimpse of an extremely faint, needlepoint-sized bone particle flashing by.
“Astonishing harmony…” Orochimaru’s raspy voice echoed in the silent laboratory, laced with unmasked admiration.
“Such violent, such untamable bloodline power, yet achieving such exquisite balance after implanting the Byakugan. Your Excellency Shura, your means never fail to surprise me.”
His gaze greedily lingered on Kimimaro’s closed eyelids, as if piercing through flesh to directly view the transplanted Byakugan from the Hyuga Main Family.
A few steps from the operating table, a figure stood still like a ghost.
His entire body was shrouded in a wide black robe, his face covered by that signature expressionless white three-eyed fox mask—precisely one of Menma’s shadow clones.
Behind the eye holes of the white three-eyed fox mask, the gaze was calm as a deep pool, reflecting everything on the operating table without a ripple.
In response to Orochimaru’s praise, the shadow clone merely nodded extremely slightly.
“The Kaguya Clan’s ‘Corpse Bone Pulse’ bloodline disease, at its core, is the power dormant deep in the bloodline awakened, leading to an imbalance in bodily Yang Release, unable to bear this power.” Menma’s voice transmitted through the mask, low and steady, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, like stating a cold formula.
