Tonight in Konohagakure, the sky was darker than usual—like ink poured across the heavens.
Within the dense shadows of the Forest of Death, outside a stone cave embedded in a broken slope, countless serpentine shadows slithered through the brush.
Hiss… hiss…
As if sensing something, the snakes raised their heads slightly, crimson tongues flickering in the dark.
High in the trees, several black-clad figures wearing masks appeared silently like owls of the night. The snakes did not notice them.
"Is it here?"
At the front stood Hiruzen Sarutobi, clad in light armor. His expression was heavy as he gazed toward the abyssal cave in the distance, murmuring to himself.
"Scatter."
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The figures behind him instantly dispersed, spreading out like black wings, sealing the entire area beneath invisible talons and beaks.
This was the ANBU—the special assassination unit, famed for efficiency, cruelty, and cold precision.
Recently, many genin, chunin, and even ANBU ninjas had vanished without a trace. Even with Danzo Shimura secretly covering things up, the truth could not be buried forever.
The matter had finally reached Hiruzen, who was occupied with border conflicts in the Land of Fire. And immediately, he thought of someone.
"Orochimaru…"
After a long silence, Hiruzen and two ANBU disappeared—leaving behind only a sigh filled with disappointment and regret.
Beneath the cave lay a twisted, damp drainage system converted into a secret laboratory.
Drip… drip…
The only sound was sewage water falling into pooled filth.
Inside a hollowed chamber stood a surgical table.
"No matter how many times I see it, I am still astonished by the perfection of this body."
Before the table stood Orochimaru, his golden slit pupils gleaming with greed.
Upon the table lay a corpse—flawless, beautiful, almost unreal. Pale skin. Dark hair. Even its eyelashes remained intact. It looked merely asleep.
Except the body was dehydrated. Muscles shriveled.
Dead—yet strangely alive.
Orochimaru felt as if the soul had slipped free, leaving behind only an empty vessel.
"So this is the Ōtsutsuki clan…"
According to ancient Hyuga records, they were the progenitors of chakra itself.
If he could transplant every organ from this body…
He could transform his own bloodline.
Only he—master of organ and cellular transplantation—could accomplish this. Not even Tsunade could.
It was as if fate had prepared it for him.
On another table lay a fifteen-year-old boy.
White eyes. The Caged Bird Seal branded upon his forehead.
Only the Hyuga clan possessed such pure white eyes. Only branch family members bore that cursed seal.
His name was Hyuga Yunchuan.
The corpse of the Ōtsutsuki and the ancient Hyuga texts—both had been willingly offered by him.
"Yunchuan," Orochimaru said gently, omitting honorifics in subtle dominance. "Only the heart remains. Are you ready?"
"My lord Orochimaru," Yunchuan replied, fear trembling on his face but resolve steady in his voice. "You avenged my parents. I offer this body willingly."
Orochimaru smiled.
He had killed a Hyuga elder to secure the boy's cooperation.
With the Cursed Seal implanted, and once soul-transference was perfected, he would claim this perfect vessel.
Everything was proceeding as planned.
The surgery began.
Kidneys. Liver. Pancreas. Gallbladder.
All replaced.
Only the heart remained.
A chakra scalpel sliced open the chest cavity.
Orochimaru removed the beating human heart, preserving fragments of atrial tissue.
Then, with reverence, he lifted the crimson Ōtsutsuki heart and placed it inside Yunchuan's chest.
"You're performing a heart transplant?!" gasped the elderly assistant—code-named Owl.
"I believe you can manage," Orochimaru replied coldly. "Because if you cannot… things may become bloody."
The old man complied.
Chakra surged.
Veins stitched.
Life barely maintained by sealing techniques.
Then—
The sustaining barrier was lifted.
Thud.
A heartbeat echoed like a war drum.
Veins bulged across Yunchuan's body.
Vital signs spiked.
"AHHH!"
His scream tore through the chamber as if molten iron coursed through his veins.
"Control it with your chakra!" Orochimaru commanded.
For a moment—
The vitals plummeted.
Alarms screamed.
"Impossible!" Orochimaru hissed. "The Hyuga should be the perfect match!"
He prepared to remove the heart—
Thud.
A faint sound stopped him.
THUD.
Stronger now.
Then—
THUD. THUD. THUD.
The heartbeat roared like thunder.
Vital signs stabilized.
Beyond human limits.
"Finally…" Orochimaru whispered.
"Yes," someone replied softly. "Finally."
Yunchuan opened his eyes.
They were no longer pure white.
Under the surgical light, they shimmered like molten glass—between pale cyan and white, layered with iridescent depth.
Emotionless.
Bottomless.
The old man widened his eyes—
Slash.
It was fast.
No pain.
Only cold death.
His head fell like a dropped melon.
Blood rained across the laboratory.
Orochimaru instinctively turned his head—yet a thin red line carved across his cheek.
Blood slid downward.
Yunchuan sat up slowly.
"I have waited too long for this day."
He examined the chakra scalpel in his hand, blood dripping like spring rain from leaves.
He smiled at Orochimaru.
"Such a night… should be silent."
Three years.
Three years… and three more.
At last, this frail body was complete.
The true Ōtsutsuki bloodline awakened.
And—
[Your lie [Ōtsutsuki corpse and descendant] has been judged as:
[Entering the game personally]
[Honeyed words, hidden blade]
[Turning false into true]
Orochimaru experienced intense emotional fluctuation and reached the state of [Complete Conviction].
You have gained 10,000 Reality Points.]
[Evaluation: A deceptive trick—like a small man casting a giant shadow upon the wall.]
[Remaining Reality Points: 10,041]
Orochimaru stared at the boy.
In his memory, this face was always timid.
Now—
The Caged Bird Seal faded from his neck.
A faint smile curved his lips.
Like a child pressing down on an ant, watching it struggle before crushing it.
Pure evil.