The retreat of Jūzō Biwa and the others went smoothly. Standing atop Manda's head, Orochimaru made no move to stop them. He didn't even spare those high-value specimens a second glance—his gaze was fixed squarely on Kyoichi. As long as Kyoichi had no intention of leaving, it seemed there would be no problem.
However—
Staring each other down like this forever was obviously not an option.
Once Jūzō and the others had vanished from sight, Manda lowered his head.
"Your senjutsu… where did you learn it?" Orochimaru's golden eyes bore into Kyoichi as he asked.
"…"
Kyoichi didn't answer.
"I've already let your comrades leave. Isn't answering a few of my questions a fair trade? If you refuse to speak with me… then I'll just have to go have a little heart-to-heart with them instead."
Orochimaru smiled broadly.
Yet to Kyoichi, all he felt was the icy pressure of killing intent flooding toward him.
Though the situation wasn't exactly the life-or-death struggle he had anticipated, in terms of buying time, the process didn't matter—the outcome did. If Orochimaru was willing to waste time talking, then… humoring him a little wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
"Self-taught," Kyoichi finally replied.
"Self-taught?" Orochimaru's brow arched. "Kyoichi-kun, if our conversation begins with lies, then there's no point continuing."
He wasn't some ignorant outsider. Though he himself had never mastered senjutsu for various reasons, he understood it well. He knew how impossibly difficult it was. Even in Ryūchi Cave, with the White Snake Sage's guidance, fewer than a third of summoners ever succeeded in learning it.
Without such guidance, to claim one had mastered senjutsu through self-study… not even Orochimaru would dare to boast such a thing. After all, just perceiving natural energy in the first place was a barrier that eliminated 99.9% of humans.
"The fact that you couldn't doesn't mean others can't. To assume so is hardly worthy of a researcher. In this world, many things may seem 'impossible'—but the cultivation of senjutsu should not be one of them. There will always be an unexpected genius, won't there?"
Kyoichi shot back, his tone sharp, body braced, ready to strike at any moment.
"…Interesting."
Orochimaru didn't attack. In fact, his expression softened, the killing intent in his smile fading somewhat. He stared at Kyoichi for several long seconds before suddenly remarking:
"Kyoichi-kun… you seem to know me very well. Even in Konoha, few would ever pair the word 'researcher' with my name."
"Figures like you are always the focus of every village's spies."
Kyoichi deflected smoothly.
"Spies, hmm?" Orochimaru's lips curved upward. "Konoha certainly has its share of infiltrators from other villages… but to uncover my information… it seems Iwagakure's agents have improved quite a bit in recent years."
"Or perhaps it's not their skills improving, but someone on the inside helping them."
"Oh? You're saying there's a traitor selling intelligence?"
"Selling information doesn't necessarily make one a traitor. Perhaps they simply believe they're acting in Konoha's best interest."
"…Sharp-tongued."
"Thanks for the compliment."
Looking at Kyoichi's unflappable demeanor, Orochimaru couldn't help but chuckle quietly.
"But to return to the matter at hand… Kyoichi-kun, you truly mastered senjutsu through self-study? And not only that—you've reached a perfect Sage Mode."
"My sensory perception has always been sharp. After witnessing the Yellow Flash use senjutsu twice, I managed to glimpse its foundations. I sensed that endless energy woven into all things, and after several attempts, I drew it into my body, blending it with chakra—thus entering this state."
He continued in an almost rambling tone:
"To be honest, it was extremely difficult, not as easy as I make it sound. Just drawing in that natural energy… I failed countless times, nearly gave up. Even when I finally succeeded in channeling it into myself, that was when it became truly dangerous. I don't know why, but several times my body almost turned to stone…"
Kyoichi deliberately stretched his story, breaking sentences into smaller parts, peppering them with half-truths and exaggerations—all to buy more time.
"From what I know, you only crossed paths with Minato on the Land of Grass battlefield a few months ago… meaning you mastered senjutsu in that short span? And you call that 'difficult'?"
Orochimaru's tone was cutting. Even he, in that moment, felt a bitter, indescribable complexity within. His instincts told him Kyoichi's words, though padded, weren't outright lies.
"Turning to stone… that's what happens to the toads of Mount Myōboku when they fail at senjutsu," Manda muttered, inadvertently validating Kyoichi's tale—and making Orochimaru's thoughts all the more conflicted.
In this world, there truly existed such a person.
Someone who had, through sheer effort alone, mastered senjutsu.
If the information was accurate—Koeda Kyoichi was only fifteen years old.
"Kyoichi-kun… you're becoming more and more fascinating to me."
Orochimaru's golden eyes locked on Kyoichi, brimming with greed and hunger, as if he wanted to peel back his skin, strip his bones, and dissect him piece by piece, just to see what made him different from ordinary men.
At last, he extended the olive branch:
"Join Konoha. For someone like you, wasting away in the backwater of Kirigakure will only bury your talent. Only in Konoha can a genius of your caliber truly thrive."
"And if I said I needed time to think it over… would that suffice?"
Kyoichi asked carefully, testing.
"A disappointing answer."
Orochimaru sighed.
The very next instant—
His right index finger twitched lightly.
A sudden flash of steel burst from the rubble behind Kyoichi, darting toward his back.
Unbeknownst to him, the Kusanagi Sword that Mei Terumī had knocked aside with her Lava Release earlier had been lying buried among the shattered stones—waiting.
Now, under Orochimaru's control, it launched its deadly ambush.
This particular Kusanagi was known as the Longsword of the Sky. Unlike its length-changing counterpart, its ability lay in remote manipulation, flying freely through the air to strike from impossible angles—killing foes before they could even react.
And yet—
This seemingly invincible tactic met its challenge today.
Clang!
The blade tore through Kyoichi's clothes, but could not pierce the obsidian-black skin beneath, hard as forged iron. Sparks danced as the sword glanced off, repelled, and spun away.
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