Late at night.
Orochimaru sat alone in his laboratory, sorting through the latest stack of research notes.
"The power that supposedly let the First Hokage pacify an era… the more I see, the more intriguing it becomes."
His Wood Release experiments were still going nowhere. But the failures floating in his tanks had thoroughly captured his interest.
"Just a few stray cells, and they have this level of vitality." A faint smile tugged at his lips. "It's hard to even imagine how terrifying the First Hokage himself must have been."
He set the documents aside and leaned back in his chair, intending to snatch a short nap.
The moment a hint of drowsiness came over him, his mind buzzed.
A familiar, hazy black mist surged toward him like a rising tide. With last time's experience, he still felt tense—but not panicked.
Only… this time, it wasn't a "gathering."
From deep within the mist, a figure stepped forth—a silhouette made of light, six radiant wings unfurled behind him, an ancient aura rolling off him in waves. Star-deep eyes gazed calmly at Orochimaru's spiritual body.
Not a congregation?
Orochimaru's heart gave a small jolt. He'd assumed he'd be dragged back into that bone church again.
He wasn't stupid. After a brief moment of thought, he more or less understood why.
"What a rare visitor… Father Adam." He smiled thinly. "I didn't expect you to appear before me personally. Is there something I can do for you?"
"I'm here to bring you good news, Orochimaru."
Using ritual magic to project himself into the dream, Uchiha Sogetsu's voice rolled across the fog.
"Oh?" Orochimaru's eyes brightened. His curiosity was instantly hooked.
Sogetsu didn't bother with suspense. "A piece of information concerning immortality."
Immortality?
Orochimaru's pupils trembled. It felt like something had caught in his throat; his Adam's apple worked, but no sound came out.
It wasn't that he doubted Adam. He'd seen the man's methods with his own eyes. It was just that the word itself—immortality—hit too hard, too suddenly. His mind stalled for several seconds.
Realizing he'd been rude, Orochimaru quickly bowed his head. "My apologies, Mr. Adam. I've been researching immortality for a very long time with no progress at all. To hear such news so abruptly… it was simply too shocking. I hope you can forgive my reaction."
"I can understand," Sogetsu replied mildly.
"May I ask, Mr. Adam… what price do I have to pay?"
A glint flickered in Orochimaru's snake-like eyes. He forced down the wild joy boiling in his chest and made himself stay calm.
Everything had a price. He'd understood that long ago.
But this was immortality.
The dream he'd chased for so many years—suddenly within arm's reach.
No matter the cost, he had to grasp it.
"The price," Sogetsu said, deliberately keeping some cards close to his chest, "I'll tell you in the future."
Then he continued, "Five kilometers east of the Leaf, there's something that holds the answer you're looking for—a living creature from the Mythic Era, one that's survived for several thousand years. I imagine that should satisfy your requirements, yes?"
The "immortal" he meant was, naturally, Black Zetsu.
You think you can just offend me and walk away?
This isn't an inn—coming and going as you please.
He wanted to see just how many lives Black Zetsu thought he had.
"From the Mythic Era… alive for thousands of years?"
"It matches the chakra stain we sensed in the shrine wall last night."
If Orochimaru had only been shocked before, now a full-blown storm raged in his chest.
That one sentence contained too much.
Adam's words implied that the "myths" of the ninja world… might be real.
He didn't dare follow that line of thought any further. A chill ran down his spine; his thoughts got tangled into a knot.
"If you don't go now, he's going to slip away," Sogetsu reminded him, lips curling slightly. "Your friend isn't exactly reliable. He probably won't be able to hold the target for long."
My friend?
Orochimaru blinked, then quickly pieced it together. "You mean… Jiraiya?"
In all of Konoha, the only people he could call "friends" were two individuals. And of those two, only one could be described as "unreliable."
"Go."
The radiant figure, godlike in his brilliance, dissolved as the mist retreated.
Back in reality, Orochimaru's eyes snapped open. A cold killing intent flashed deep within those violet irises.
"A survivor from the Mythic Era, is it? Heh… things are getting more and more interesting." His tongue flicked across his lips. "To think the shinobi world is still hiding this many secrets from me."
At the same time, in the forest outside the Leaf, Black Zetsu was being beaten within an inch of his existence.
If Uchiha Fugaku had been "a bit troublesome," then the Legendary Sannin Jiraiya had driven Black Zetsu to the brink of despair.
The man casually switched between different ninjutsu styles, but his specialization in Earth and Fire Release was especially nasty—practically a hard counter to Zetsu's current form.
Even worse, Jiraiya is heir to Mount Myōboku—the line that has carried prophecies across eras.
"I can't keep stalling like this—" Black Zetsu gritted his metaphorical teeth, preparing to use his old trick and scatter. "That stupid toad on Myōboku can see the future. If I stay in contact with Jiraiya much longer, it's only a matter of time before my identity gets exposed!"
Bang!
His body burst apart like a splash of ink, dissolving into countless black droplets that shot out in all directions.
"Trying to run, huh?" Jiraiya crouched, hands slamming into the earth. His wild mane rose straight up. "Ninja Art: Needle Jizō!"
Swish, swish, swish—
His once-soft hair turned rigid like steel needles, erupting outward in a storm that tore through the fleeing droplets.
Many of the black beads were skewered, releasing pained screeches as they evaporated. But a small portion still managed to escape, scattering into the night.
"I've never seen ninjutsu like that…"
Seeing he couldn't catch up, Jiraiya simply stopped. He frowned, muttering to himself, "This guy is weird. Not just his jutsu—his entire body structure is strange. I'll have to head to Mount Myōboku and ask the Great Toad Sage about this."
Black Zetsu paid dearly for his escape.
Strictly speaking, he wasn't a "living creature" at all, just a clump of shadowy chakra peeled from Kaguya's body. But even so, tonight's string of disasters—one freak accident after another—had left him in shreds.
He'd lost a full two-thirds of his mass. It would take at least half a year to recover.
"Damn you, Uchiha Sogetsu—!"
Black Zetsu seethed, hatred oozing from every syllable. His sorry state was entirely that Uchiha brat's fault.
"Just wait. You'll regret this, Uchiha Sogetsu. Once I get back, I'll make you taste the greatest suffering this world has to offer. I'll strip you of everything and let you drown in agony!"
Rustle, rustle…
The grass nearby shivered. Several snakes slithered out.
They raised the front halves of their bodies with unnatural poise, scarlet vertical pupils fixed on him, forked tongues flicking as they hissed.
"The likes of you vermin dare try to frighten me?"
Black Zetsu flinched for a heartbeat, then, seeing they were only snakes, flew into a rage. He lashed out and tore the snakes apart.
Almost immediately, he realized something was wrong.
"…Why are there snakes here?"
"Hehehe…"
A sinister chuckle slithered through the trees.
A sheet of ice crawled over Black Zetsu's heart.
No way.
He couldn't be that unlucky… right?
He forced his stiff "neck" to turn toward the source of the voice.
In the pale moonlight, a man in a white kimono approached—a figure with long black hair and narrow, serpentine eyes, his beauty as cold and poisonous as a viper's gaze. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Damn. It's Orochimaru.
Black Zetsu suddenly felt he must have offended the god of luck himself.
How else could he, of all beings, manage to run into two Legendary Sannin… in a single night?
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