With Tenzo and Daigo's assistance, Habara finally completed the crucial quantification research. At long last, his improved "Curse Mark" had evolved into a tool suitable for broader, practical application.
Another quarter of a year had slipped by; time had moved on to the warm spring of the following year. From the initial 'project proposal' to entering the experimental phase and finally obtaining concrete results, the time Habara had invested wasn't particularly long. However, the research as a whole had significantly deviated from his original objective. Somewhere along the way, he seemed to have transformed into a researcher simply immersed in the joy of discovery itself. Developing the generalized Curse Mark alternative was only one aspect of his initial goal; the more critical part was gaining a deeper understanding of natural energy to facilitate the completion of his own unique "Sage Mode."
He had indeed deepened his understanding of natural energy now, but perhaps not by much. Still, he had grasped one essential truth: descriptions like 'cultivation' or 'training' were far too vague. Quantification and precise measurement represented the most scientific path forward. Looking ahead, Habara had definitely made some valuable gains, even if they weren't exactly what he first set out for.
Since Habara's research wasn't conducted in absolute secrecy and had inevitably caused some minor disturbances, and more importantly, because the results of these experiments needed to be reported to the Third Hokage eventually, he had to follow procedure. Operating within the Konoha system, Habara still needed to adhere to the rules as much as possible. Unless absolutely necessary, he had no subjective desire to defy the village's regulations. Abandoning one's fundamental social identity as a member of the community... that path led straight to becoming another Orochimaru.
In Konoha, once the Hokage knew something, it inevitably meant certain other influential figures would hear about it too, especially with a Hokage like the Third, who was particularly 'adept' at delegating power and sharing information. Aside from the very few core secrets concerning Konoha's absolute survival, the village effectively had no secrets. So-called confidentiality, most of the time, only applied to ordinary ninja below Jōnin rank. Information flowed with startling efficiency among Konoha's upper echelons—sometimes actively disseminated, sometimes passively 'leaked.'
In the perception of ordinary Konoha ninja, the First Hokage was a figure of the distant past, long gone. But in the eyes of certain others, his power remained a highly coveted legacy. Therefore, although Habara's creation could theoretically benefit a significant portion of the ninja population—and might even see widespread adoption if proven completely harmless—due to the inherent selfishness of certain individuals and factions, what they truly desired wasn't just the right to use the derived power, but complete ownership and control over its source. Especially the original development logs and raw experimental records; in a sense, these were far more valuable than the polished, publicly presentable results.
As night fell, a shadowy figure slipped silently into the research base. It must be said, rank-and-file ninja could never truly comprehend how brazen those wielding power at the highest levels could become, capable of acts defying all imagination and law. This facility was near the heart of Konoha, located in one of the most densely guarded areas staffed by the village's strongest shinobi, yet certain illicit activities still occurred when powerful interests deemed them necessary.
The shadow silently made its way to the fourth floor, demonstrating precise knowledge of which room to target. Without alerting a single soul, the figure reached out, grasped the lab doorknob, and turned it gently, easing the door open.
Standing directly opposite the doorway was a short, slender figure. Her face was paper-white, her exposed skin utterly devoid of the faintest blush of color. Her eyes and facial expression lacked vitality and animation, making her look exactly like a… life-sized doll.
Just as the intruder prepared to make their move, another voice spoke up, seemingly originating from just behind the doll-like figure.
"If you're here to steal something, could you please not pick my watch?"
The voice was laced with a profound, almost overwhelming weariness. The speaker didn't even bother to stifle a yawn, an act that felt like a direct insult to the intruder's professionalism. Yet, this apparent laxness and lack of caution offered the intruder no comfort. A quick, darting glance confirmed the speaker's identity – Hatake Kakashi, the man who had recently earned the widely acknowledged (though unofficial) title of "Strongest Jōnin."
"There's nothing you want here," Kakashi continued in that same tired drawl. "Any valuable data was moved to a more secret location long ago. There's no need for this pointless effort." He paused, perhaps considering. "Seeing as we're both Konoha shinobi, you can leave now. But this is the absolute limit of our tolerance."
As he spoke, Kakashi maintained his lazy posture but casually shifted his body sideways, deliberately clearing a path to the exit. He was indicating, quite clearly, that he genuinely meant for the intruder to leave.
The intrusion had failed; the mission was impossible. Should they fight to the death against Kakashi, or cut their losses and attempt escape?
Just as the intruder was weighing their disastrous options, another voice sounded behind them:
"An unseemly evolution, humanity's fall."
The chakra radiating from the person who had just spoken was immense, powerful like the vast ocean. Before them stood Kakashi; behind them, this unknown powerhouse uttering cryptic pronouncements. The intruder didn't need to consider cutting their losses anymore; the most rational, perhaps only, move now was likely immediate suicide. Although technically a Konoha ninja, their existence certainly wouldn't be found in any official records. Capture meant only endless, brutal interrogation, with absolutely no one coming to their aid.
Maintaining extreme vigilance, the intruder backed away slowly, step by careful step, and retreated from the laboratory. Kakashi kept his word, neither attacking nor pursuing, simply allowing the figure to melt back into the concealing darkness of the night.
The next morning, when Habara was informed about the incident, he merely nodded, acknowledging the report without formulating any plans for investigation or retaliation. This was simply the environment of Konoha; what was there to fuss about? He had far more important things demanding his attention.
Today marked the second 'vaccine' injection following Tenzo's successful trial. The recipient was another key Jōnin affiliated with Habara's unofficial group, Aburame Shibi of the esteemed Aburame clan.
With everyone prepared—Shibi standing calmly, Daigo observing—Habara held the syringe aloft, adopting a highly serious, almost ceremonial tone.
"Welcome to the home of blood therapy," he intoned gravely.
"Join the glorious evolution."
He paused, looking at his colleague. "Aburame."
He cleared his throat. "So..."
What on earth was this bizarre, stitched-together mess of phrases? Just for a simple vaccine injection? What kind of strange ritual was this? Aburame Shibi, ever the stoic professional, was already prepared. He had taken the precaution of temporarily releasing all his kikaichū from his body, housing them nearby to avoid any unpredictable reactions caused by the vaccine stimulating his symbiotic insects. The injection itself held no fear for the Aburame clansman; everything had been thoroughly tested on Tenzo already, and Shibi was merely receiving the refined, finished product. It was Habara's neurotic, quasi-religious preamble that actually gave him pause.
Some imagine scientific research as a noble sacrifice: losing a full head of hair to stress and long nights, dedicating decades of painstaking effort for incremental progress.
But real scientific progress, perhaps, looks more like this: spending just a few hours decisively appropriating someone else's hard-won research results.
Of course, this was merely Habara's entirely subjective, somewhat cynical viewpoint. Shibi certainly didn't subscribe to that philosophy. Habara, for his part, considered his security measures perfectly rigorous. He'd already moved all the actual sensitive research data from this lab into that special 'pocket dimension' he controlled, acting on the principles that one should always be wary of prying eyes and that human experimentation results shouldn't be left carelessly lying around. There was truly nothing of value left here to steal.