Because of this fragile bond, a Jinchūriki usually suffers catastrophic organ failure and dies soon after a Tailed Beast is extracted.
The sealing techniques differ from village to village, but in essence they all rely on the host's own chakra to suppress the Beast and cage it inside the Jinchūriki's body.
Only the Uzumaki clan, blessed with an extraordinary life force, can survive for a short while after a beast is removed—and even they cannot escape death forever.
It still defied belief that Uzumaki Kushina, on the brink of death, could restrain the Nine-Tails with Adamantine Sealing Chains.
Such strength bordered on the absurd, yet it was another testament to the unique constitution of her clan.
Even so, the Uzumaki's robust bodies and lingering chakra could not prevent the inevitable end.
The same logic explained the survival of others—like Killer Bee of the Hidden Cloud.
When the Eight-Tails was pulled from him by Uchiha Madara, the beast cleverly tore away one of its own tentacles.
That sliver of chakra allowed Bee to cling to life.
Orochimaru twirled his pen and wrote his final line of notes with a faint smile.
So, if the Jinchūriki's chakra is bound too tightly to the Beast's and both are ripped away together, the mystery of their death is solved. How elegant… how worthy of me.
Rolling up the filled notebook into a scroll, he rose to leave.
---
"Are you coming back?"
Uzumaki Chigusa looked at him with a glimmer of feeling in her eyes.
At last she understood why Orochimaru had achieved so much.
Talent and skill were only part of it.
The true marvel was his relentless devotion—his ability to spend endless hours poring over dry scrolls without complaint.
She, for all her own gifts, could never have matched such focus.
"Yes, Chigusa. I've troubled you enough these past days. Thank you for all your care."
"You're being awfully polite," she said, half-teasing.
Before he could react, Chigusa wrapped him in a quick hug and ruffled his straight black hair until it stood every which way.
"I liked you better when you were little," she added with a wistful smile. "You were so cute back then. Now you're all serious—it's not as fun."
Orochimaru struggled free, hair disheveled, and shot her a reproachful look.
"No one stays young forever. Even the corners of your eyes will one day show crow's feet, no matter how much you ignore them."
"Crow's feet?!"
Chigusa snatched up a mirror and inspected herself in panic.
Finding no lines, she exhaled in relief—until she caught Orochimaru's faint smirk.
"Don't joke about things like that!" she protested, cheeks pink.
"Still," Orochimaru said more gently, "thank you for everything. You may be a little… unconventional, but you're undeniably beautiful."
Chigusa blinked, unsure whether she was being complimented or slyly mocked.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," she said at last. "Lady Mito accepted her fate the day she sealed the Nine-Tails. Don't push yourself past your limits."
Orochimaru only gave a quiet laugh. "Limits? I've never been one to give up easily. Goodbye, Chigusa."
He already had a new direction for his research; surrender was never an option.
---
> Author's Note
At this point in the story, the village of Uzushiogakure still stands.
The Mask Storage Temple—so vital to the Uzumaki clan—remains hidden and carefully guarded.
---
A New Experiment
In a subterranean laboratory, a different investigation was under way.
Hyūga Mio observed a shadow clone writhing under the effects of a toxin known as Chakra Poison, her Byakugan tracking every subtle change.
Orochimaru, however, stood apart, lost in thought.
The next Jinchūriki I can realistically approach is the monk Bunbuku of the Hidden Sand—host of the One-Tail Shukaku. He believes humans and Tailed Beasts are equal. Perhaps he would even agree to my request… but not yet. Not until I perfect a sealing technique. Facing a Tailed Beast now would be suicide.
The clone suddenly collapsed into a puff of smoke with a sharp pop.
The echo of its pain washed back into Orochimaru's own body, and he stiffened briefly.
"Orochimaru, are you all right?" Mio asked.
She disliked his distraction during such a delicate trial but hesitated to scold him.
"My apologies, Mio. Something weighs on my mind," he said softly.
It had taken weeks to set up this experiment, yet his wandering thoughts had ruined the precision.
He peered at the remaining liquid in a test tube.
"This formulation is not the Chakra Poison I envisioned," he muttered.
The current version attacked every cell and chakra pathway of its victim, preventing chakra refinement and leaving them permanently crippled.
Its effect was similar to being struck by a Wind Release: Rasenshuriken—except it didn't kill outright.
Without an antidote, the afflicted would lose all chakra and suffer unbearable agony.
Imu, one of his assistants, spoke respectfully. "Orochimaru-sama, shall we begin the next trial?"
"No. That's enough for today. You've all worked hard."
His voice remained calm, without the slightest hint of disappointment or anger, as if this setback had been expected.
Three years of experiments had yielded countless poisons, and yet none had the impact he desired.
Patience was one of Orochimaru's strengths—except when it wasn't.
He knew when to abandon a dead end.
---
Shadows of the Laboratory
Hyūga Mio trailed after him down the long corridor.
The underground complex had expanded to several levels, each lined with breeding tanks.
Some housed rare, dangerous creatures; others were filled with insects marked with the formula of the Flying Thunder God Technique.
Unable to use that space-time jutsu in direct combat, Orochimaru had devised an elegant alternative:
train kikaichū insects to carry the formula and position themselves in advance.
During battle he could teleport to their locations, striking like a phantom.
For three years this method had allowed him to ambush and kill countless foes.
The mission logs now listed more B- and A-rank successes than any shinobi of his age had ever achieved.
Had compensation been required for every mission, the Third Hokage's already receding hairline might have vanished altogether.
Orochimaru chuckled inwardly. Senju Tobirama was even more devious than I am.
Flying Thunder God to counter the Sharingan, Shadow Clones to break genjutsu, Mutually Multiplying Explosive Tags to foil Izanagi—
and perhaps Edo Tensei itself prepared for a clash with the Uchiha.
Such deep planning bordered on obsession.
"Mio," he said suddenly, sensing her unspoken question, "what is it?"
She hesitated, then met his gaze. "You've seemed… uneasy lately. What troubles you? You don't feel like the Orochimaru I know."
"Uneasy, hmm?" He gave a thin smile.
"I can't speak of it yet. Perhaps one day you'll understand. For now, just keep doing your best. Nothing ever goes exactly as planned."
---
An Unexpected Visitor
Elsewhere on the island base, research into chakra-based explosives continued, though at a slower pace.
Detonation tests that once happened daily now occurred only every few days.
Through the dim corridors walked an elderly figure in a black cloak, a katana strapped to his back.
Despite the passing years, he looked unchanged—Uchiha Madara.
He entered the lab without challenge.
"Three years," he said dryly. "Still chasing that tedious research?"
Shi, the lead researcher, glanced up in surprise.
"Old man, you're still alive! To last this long in a place like this, you must have some tricks up your sleeve."
"These pitiful creatures can't harm me," Madara replied, his voice carrying its usual arrogance.
Age had stooped his shoulders, but the force of his presence remained.
"Then I'll wait for the day I can claim your corpse," Shi said with a smirk, turning back to the container in his hand.
Inside, a liquid shimmered and slowly crystallized into fine dust.
Madara folded his arms, studying the strange apparatus.
"Two years of work, and your explosives are no stronger. You waste time and resources."
"Listen, you fossil," Shi shot back, eyes flashing, "do you even understand science? Do you know the exact composition of the powder I'm refining? Do you know why I let you wander around this base?"
"Why?" Madara asked, genuinely curious.
"Because you're an ignorant old fool!"
Shi punctuated the insult with a raised middle finger.
Madara's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Truthfully, he recognized few of the items on the tables besides the obvious glassware.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Shi pressed on like a machine gun.
"Technology drives the world forward. You're a caveman who's never even seen a movie! I bet you haven't watched The Warring States Period by the Uchiha Clan. And yet you dare lecture me. What else do you have besides age? Are you even worthy?"
Madara caught the key phrase.
"The Warring States Period… by the Uchiha Clan? What is that?"
He understood each individual word but not the sentence as a whole.
Have I really been gone from the shinobi world so long?
"It's a film," Shi said matter-of-factly, "a dramatized history of the Uchiha-Senju conflict. Shown in theaters across the nations. Critically acclaimed."
"Film? Theater?"
Madara felt as though he'd stepped into another reality.
He left the hideout to buy food and supplies often enough—how could he be so out of touch?
Shi only laughed. "I knew you wouldn't have seen it. Never mind, I'm rambling again."
The powder in his container suddenly flared with dazzling light and erupted in a small boom, a mushroom of smoke curling upward as the glass darkened.
Madara threw back his head and laughed, the sound rough but full of genuine satisfaction.
At last, something had managed to impress him.
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