Orochimaru placed the gun components on the experimental table beside him, his golden eyes narrowing as he examined the data logs. Something was off—one of the recorded values didn't match expectations. He planned to reanalyze the parts to pinpoint the exact issue.
Her long, dark hair cascaded behind her like a veil of midnight, disheveled from hours of work. Spots of motor oil marred the white coat she wore, staining it like ink splatters on a blank canvas. Fatigue weighed heavily on her delicate features, dark circles nearly eclipsing the purple eyeshadow around her eyes. But despite her exhaustion, those golden irises still gleamed with insatiable curiosity, a hunger for the unknown.
(TL: He is a she here.)
Standing behind her, Kabuto remained silent, scribbling into his notebook with practiced ease. Over the years, he had become little more than a living data recorder, meticulously documenting every observation. In the past, he could indulge in grave digging to unwind, but opportunities for such pastimes had dwindled. He had grown noticeably thinner, worn down by the relentless pace of research.
"Lord Orochimaru, we've been buried in research here for years. Are you truly not considering leaving?" Kabuto finally spoke, his voice laced with restrained frustration. The isolation was suffocating. For the past four years, their village had remained sealed off from the world. Besides the occasional exchange of necessary supplies, no one was allowed to leave. It was a place of secrecy, cut off from the outside.
"There's no rush. I'll leave when I've unraveled every mystery here," Orochimaru replied without looking up. "These firearms are the pinnacle of science. How could I walk away without fully understanding them?"
Kabuto sighed, having expected this answer. Still, he found himself longing for a change—something, anything, to break the monotony. His mind drifted to Zixu and the others, prompting him to continue the conversation.
"Speaking of which, the ones around Zixu have grown a lot these past few years."
"The girl from the Hyuga clan has been diligently refining her Byakugan. She even sought me out once, wanting to understand the difference between the Byakugan and the Sharingan. She must've learned about my research through Zixu."
"And did you tell her?"
"I shared what was necessary," Orochimaru smirked. "I'm curious to see if that little girl can evolve her Byakugan. Wouldn't that be fascinating?"
"What about the Hyuga clan's Caged Bird Seal? Does Zixu really have a way to remove it?" Kabuto asked, shifting the topic. The fate of the Hyuga branch members who had followed Zixu to this secluded village was inextricably tied to that cursed seal.
"That little Hyuga girl isn't marked with the Caged Bird Seal. There are, in fact, multiple ways to deal with it. From my observations, the seal on her has completely faded. It might still exist, but it no longer functions. I'll be recording this data..." Orochimaru mused as he tossed a few gun components to Kabuto, who caught them with practiced ease and began collecting data—measuring weight, density, and structural integrity.
"What about the girl from the Uzumaki clan?" Kabuto asked as he completed his task.
"She's been studying medicine. Judging by the books she reads, they originally belonged to Tsunade. Karin's body possesses remarkable vitality—I'd love the opportunity to study her in detail." Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with scientific fervor. The Uzumaki clan was rare, nearly extinct. Having not one, but two members before him was an incredible stroke of fortune. If only he could examine them properly… But for now, they were untouchable.
"I see. And the Aburame girl?"
"She? Lucky enough to have mastered Sage Mode," Orochimaru said dismissively, waving the topic away. "Not that I care for it."
Kabuto chuckled. "Zixu keeps bringing strange people into the village. I can't figure out what he's planning." He sighed, longing for the simplicity of his grave-digging days. How much longer would this life of secrecy last?
"The answer is simple—he's building a village." Orochimaru's response was direct. Zixu's actions all pointed to one thing: forming a legitimate ninja village, one that would stand among the Great Five.
If he was ambitious enough, he might even establish an entire nation. His goal was to gain enough influence and power in the shinobi world to reshape it according to his ideals.
"A village? What's there to prepare for? You didn't go through this much effort when you created Otogakure..." Kabuto muttered, puzzled. "Can't he just declare it a village and be done with it?"
"It's different," Orochimaru said, finally setting his work aside. He leaned back on the worn-out sofa behind him, closing his eyes. "Think about who makes up this village."
Kabuto frowned. "The Hyuga clan... rogue ninjas from various villages... Yeah, that's bound to draw attention."
"That's part of it," Orochimaru acknowledged, "but the real issue is something else. This village isn't built solely on ninja strength. It's designed to function through technology. Civilians here undergo aptitude tests, and those who pass receive a standard-issue firearm. The village itself has undergone a technological overhaul—schools, medical facilities, infrastructure. This place isn't just another ninja village. It's something entirely new."
Kabuto absorbed his words, deep in thought.
"The most dangerous aspect," Orochimaru continued, "is that these firearms make it possible for ordinary civilians to kill trained shinobi. This is a village where everyone is a soldier. To the outside world, that makes it a threat."
Without another word, he drifted into sleep. Kabuto shook his head, placed the notes beside him, and quietly exited the laboratory.
Outside, the village had transformed into something unrecognizable. The crude, earthen huts of years past had been replaced with sleek steel buildings. Streets were paved with smooth, jade-like stone. Electric lights, televisions, and trams filled the landscape, bringing a level of modernization unheard of in the shinobi world.
Even the villagers had adapted. Their clothing had shifted from traditional robes to contemporary attire. Beyond the village, automated farming machines toiled in the fields, drastically improving food production.
The village's energy source was equally unconventional. Everyone possessed chakra, but civilians couldn't manipulate it. Instead, a specialized team collected chakra from each household monthly using advanced devices. It was mandatory.
As for spies and captured enemies, they were repurposed—held in special prisons where their chakra was harvested. Once depleted, they were forced into manual labor, generating power through physical exertion. Nothing was wasted.
Standing atop a hillside overlooking the village, Gaara watched it all in silence. He had seen this place evolve from barren wasteland to a technological marvel, and yet, conflicting emotions still churned within him.
At first, he had dismissed Zixu's talk of equality and peace as empty rhetoric—a lie like all the others, another political ploy.
But as time passed, he realized something. Here, equality wasn't just a slogan. Civilians truly stood on equal footing with shinobi. A civilian child could walk the streets with confidence, unafraid of ninja dominance.
At first, he had resisted this foreign concept, but gradually, the atmosphere softened him. The rage that had once consumed him began to fade.
Kankuro and Temari had embraced this change. They could see it clearly—this place was far better than Sunagakure.
There, they had been raised as weapons, conditioned to kill, constantly aware that death lurked around every corner.
Here, there was no such brutality. There was peace.
And anyone with a shred of sense knew which life was better.
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