Orochimaru's vision held potential, but only that—potential. The path to its realization was fraught with immense difficulty and staggering costs.
Now, shaking off his reverie of a utopian future, Orochimaru fixed his gaze on Shen Mo, a flicker of nervous anticipation in his eyes.
This was his nascent plan, born of his conviction that an undead world could bring true peace, erasing suffering forever. He yearned to know Shen Mo's verdict.
"Once, someone tried what you propose," Shen Mo said, hands clasped behind his back, his tone measured. "He failed—crushed by the resistance of the masses."
"Truth lies in the hands of the few," Orochimaru countered, undeterred by the prospect of opposition.
"But the world belongs to the many," Shen Mo replied calmly. "What's right isn't always what's best. Not everyone has the courage to become a monster like you are now."
"Monster?" Orochimaru faltered, caught off guard.
"Yes, a monster by mortal standards," Shen Mo affirmed with a nod. "Life's meaning is often defined by death. Immortality defies that natural order, making you an aberration. Only a rare few can embrace such a state. For most, some things matter more than mere existence."
Orochimaru's mind churned. He thought of Konoha's ninja, hurling themselves to their deaths for the Will of Fire. He saw death as the root of all pain, but the masses clearly disagreed.
So, where did truth lie—his vision or theirs?
A fierce curiosity blazed in his eyes.
"I don't yet know the answer," Orochimaru admitted, resolve hardening. He met Shen Mo's gaze, testing the waters. "But I'll follow my path until someone stops me or shows me the truth."
As a scientist, Orochimaru was a pragmatist. He'd experiment relentlessly, unbound by rigid goals. As he'd said, he sought immortality to unravel the world's truths and powers, time his only limit.
"If that's the fate you choose, then pursue it," Shen Mo said, his smile as enigmatic as their first meeting, warm yet impenetrable.
Orochimaru exhaled, relieved.
"But—" Shen Mo's tone shifted, and Orochimaru snapped to attention.
If Shen Mo forbade this path, he'd abandon it. He wouldn't chase hopeless dreams.
"Ordinary people are the world's foundation," Shen Mo continued, his smile unwavering but his eyes flashing a clear warning. "I offer you the chance to change your fate, not to destroy this world. Common folk may accept their lot, but that's their choice. They're the soil from which you grow. If you or any member cause their numbers to plummet, that's my failure."
He emphasized "plummet," his voice sharp.
Turning people into undead? Manageable. A Great Resurrection could undo that failure. But unleashing a necromantic scourge only to have it crushed, decimating populations? That was a catastrophic loss for Shen Mo. He valued ninja potential but not at the expense of the ordinary, whose productivity fueled his can trade.
"I understand," Orochimaru said, heeding the warning. "I'll target those who can resist me first, securing victory before reshaping the world into an undead haven."
He'd already sensed the Chamber's stance on mortals. The Fate-Witnessing Stage, while a dueling arena for Jar Openers, also shielded non-members from apocalyptic battles, preserving them.
Orochimaru's ultimate goal was to join the Chamber as an assistant, exploring infinite worlds. Crossing Shen Mo was unthinkable.
After a pause, he turned to business. "Sir, what strength is required to unlock Level 4 cans?"
He hadn't opened many Level 3 cans, but his wealth was vast.
"No fixed standard," Shen Mo said with a chuckle, choosing his words carefully. "Stronger than the First Hokage, but not quite at the Sage of the Six Paths' level. It also depends on your specialties, your understanding of power, and its depth."
Shen Mo figured that threshold would qualify for permanent Level 4 can access.
"The First Hokage… no small feat," Orochimaru muttered, shaking his head.
Few in the modern ninja world knew Hashirama Senju's true power like Orochimaru did. His research on the First's cells revealed their staggering potential, hinting at his overwhelming might.
"When you reach that level, I'll notify you," Shen Mo said.
"Understood. For now, I'll take three hundred Lich Series cans," Orochimaru declared.
Three hundred… for starters?
That surpassed even Rasa's purchases. Shen Mo knew Orochimaru was rich, but where did all this wealth come from?
He didn't ask. With a wave of his hand, a torrent of gold, silver, and gems materialized from thin air.
Cans appeared one by one.
"Nothing beats the thrill of opening cans," Orochimaru said, his smile eager. He didn't wait for all to appear before diving in.
Lich Series cans held necromantic knowledge, dark magic, and bizarre materials—fitting for a necromancer often seen as a summoner.
Orochimaru immersed himself in the knowledge and power, his lich strength skyrocketing like Rasa's Druid prowess.
Equipment, skills, enhancements…
But Shen Mo was most curious about the Grand Prize. With a 1% chance per Level 3 can, three hundred should yield something extraordinary, no matter Orochimaru's luck.