Hearing Orochimaru's explanation, Ryoma turned his head and asked calmly:
"I thought you were only studying Kekkei Genkai factors."
Orochimaru let out a low chuckle.
"This is part of that study. If we want to acquire their powers, we must first understand their essence."
His expression darkened, brows tightening in frustration.
"Unfortunately, we are facing a bottleneck. When cloning shinobi with powerful bloodline limits, their abilities seem to activate instinctively and destroy their bodies from within."
He sighed, voice tinged with annoyance.
"These clones are far inferior to Hashirama's cells. Any significant damage renders the cloning a failure. The cost is high, and we've yet to find a solution… so progress has slowed."
Ryoma listened thoughtfully. Orochimaru's research might not be yielding impressive results yet, but there was no doubt it would become valuable in the future.
"I understand your situation. I'll have Shikaku allocate additional funds to the Scientific Research Bureau. You don't need to worry about resources — continue your work."
His gaze sharpened.
"But remember — this is an era of peace. Research is your freedom… so long as no innocent people are harmed."
Orochimaru nodded immediately.
"Understood."
He knew perfectly well what Ryoma was implying — no more human experiments on civilians. That stain on his past was not forgotten.
After a bit more conversation, Ryoma left the Scientific Research Bureau.
By the time he stepped outside, the sky had already dimmed into a warm dusk. The afternoon sun sank behind the village's skyline, bathing everything in mellow orange light.
Ryoma paused, looking out at the prosperous village below. The bustling streets and renewed energy made him feel something stir within.
Maybe… he should take a walk. Feel firsthand the changes he had brought upon this world.
As the sun fully descended, a group of seven or eight young men and women exited the Ninja Academy. They were around seventeen to twenty years old — clearly not students.
In the shinobi world, most graduate at twelve. With the academy expanding each year, new teachers were needed. Many chūnin, and even a few jōnin who rarely took missions, had taken up those positions — this group among them.
"That kid Iruka is promising. His talent may be ordinary, but he works hard," one young man commented.
"Ito-sensei, work talk after work, remember?" someone teased.
Another voice chimed in:
"Speaking of which — Mikoto, we're heading to yakiniku. Want to come?"
Uchiha Mikoto, gentle-eyed with elegant black hair, gave a small apologetic smile.
"Thank you, but I still have something to take care of."
The boys all let out a collective sigh of disappointment.
As one of the most admired beauties in Konohagakure — and an Uchiha to boot — Mikoto was the dream of countless young shinobi. But since she declined, they could only accept it.
Mikoto smiled softly and turned away, her graceful figure leaving their view.
"Mikoto-san is truly stunning…"
"I don't think she has a boyfriend yet."
"If I ask her out a few more times… maybe I'll have a chance?"
The girl beside them clicked her tongue, voice tinged with jealousy.
"You guys can keep dreaming. She's the heiress of a prestigious clan — way out of your league."
By then, Uchiha Mikoto was already too far to hear them. The excuse she'd given — that she had something to do — was just a polite way to decline. In truth, her evening was free.
She stood alone at the roadside. Her gentle aura and striking beauty drew eyes wherever she went. The form-fitting black dress she wore accentuated her graceful figure, and even simply standing there, she became the focus of many passersby — though she remained blissfully unaware.
Her thoughts drifted as she walked, head lowered…
Bang!
She collided head-first into the back of a tall man in front of her. Reacting quickly, she bowed slightly.
"I'm so sorry — I wasn't paying attention."
Then she looked up — and froze.
A man with black hair and a dark mask turned toward her. His eyes softened in surprise.
"Long time no see, Mikoto."
He tugged the mask down just enough to reveal a familiar, handsome face — one she hadn't seen in what felt like an eternity.
Ryoma had been busy — training, researching, fighting threats from the shadows. Mikoto had been left to worry and wait.
Her eyes widened in shock and joy.
"Ryoma!?"
He quickly raised a finger to his lips, urging her to lower her voice.
"Shh… not so loud."
He slid the mask back into place, concealing most of his features again.
With his growing fame — or notoriety — his identity had become quite… complicated. His reputation had reached an almost mythic level. If people recognized him here, the scene might turn into something far worse than a crowd of screaming fangirls blocking an airport — like in his previous life.
He'd even heard rumors of certain citizens erecting statues of him… forming fan cults, spreading his legend across the entire continent. Leaflets praising his deeds were everywhere.
A situation both flattering… and very troublesome.
...
TN:
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