"Don't move."
Orochimaru's voice was calm, almost indifferent—but Hidan obeyed. Without resistance, he lay still and allowed Orochimaru to begin his grim experiment.
First, the chest—two incisions. Then the ears. Fingers. Arms. One by one, Orochimaru disassembled the boy and reattached the parts again.
It was crude—stitched back like a doll. Yet somehow, Hidan's body regenerated every time.
After repeating the process several times, Orochimaru stepped back, eyes gleaming with fascination. The more he examined Hidan, the more intense that gleam became.
If it weren't for Hidan's cannibalism and disturbingly human demeanor, Orochimaru could've mistaken him for some sort of humanoid plant.
His earlier assumptions had clearly been shallow. The First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, was no longer the sole anomaly in the world of regenerative phenomena. There were others like him. In fact, Hidan might even surpass the so-called "God of Cells" in certain aspects.
Orochimaru muttered with admiration, "What a magnificent body."
"Hmph. You're making a big deal out of nothing."
Hidan flexed his fingers, popping a shoulder back into place. Though he was somewhat impressed by Orochimaru's skill, he forced a smug expression. "Even if you chop off my head, I wouldn't flinch."
"Oh? Then I've been far too cautious."
Orochimaru licked his lips. "Two hundred six bones… six hundred thirty-nine muscles… dozens of internal organs… I've never completely dismantled a human body before. Maybe it's time to try."
This guy's insane!
For the first time, a chill flickered across Hidan's eyes. Orochimaru wasn't perverted, wasn't cruel—he was something worse. Calm, rational, obsessed. He didn't want to kill Hidan out of fear or hatred—he wanted to understand him. To dissect the secret of his immortality.
And that made him dangerous.
Oddly enough, Hidan didn't hate him for it. If anything, he felt seen. Valued.
Maybe this guy has what it takes to worship the great evil god too…
With a smirk, Hidan said, "If you try to break me down that far, I actually might die. Regenerating everything needs a huge amount of nutrients. I was starving just a few minutes ago."
"Hmm." Orochimaru sheathed the scalpel without argument. "I don't believe in absolute immortality. All powers have their limits."
"If you're so obsessed with living forever, that's easy," Hidan said. His expression turned solemn—almost reverent. "Follow me. Believe in the Great Evil God…"
Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, smirking at the absurdity, but didn't interrupt. He knew better than to crush a fanatic's excitement mid-rant. It was important to keep the subject cooperative—for now.
So in the dim glow of the underground lab, a fervent disciple of an eldritch god ranted about divine miracles to a curious scientist. Unbeknownst to Hidan, an actual divine entity floated nearby, listening silently.
"…So, what do you think of this 'evil god' he keeps raving about?" Orochimaru asked mentally.
The Lamp Spirit tilted its head. "It's nonsense. No logic, just emotional leaps and delusions. But…"
It paused.
"…From a mortal's perspective, what Hidan described does resemble a 'god.' Something beyond their understanding, full of strange miracles."
"My thoughts exactly," Orochimaru replied.
Hidan, oblivious, kept going—his preaching gaining momentum with every word. He didn't realize the man before him was quietly plotting.
"Even the so-called gods of this world show vegetative traits. Likely linked to the Ōtsutsuki…"
At that, Orochimaru narrowed his eyes and sent another thought: "Is it possible that some chakra soul forms in the Pure Land, after being consumed or eroded by the Ōtsutsuki, reincarnated somehow… and became this?"
The Lamp Spirit blinked, surprised. "…Not impossible."
Though Hidan's exact biology was still unknown, his psychology was unmistakable—violent, sadistic, unstable. A mind driven by ritualized cruelty and bloodlust. It was beyond simple madness. It hinted at something far more ancient… and far more alien.
"And the Cult of the Evil God may have created the perfect environment to nurture such a being," the Lamp Spirit added.
"But did Hidan become immortal before joining the cult, or because of it?" Orochimaru mused aloud.
"Not sure it matters," the Lamp Spirit replied. "Could've been the ritual that awakened him. He's the only survivor—everyone else died."
Orochimaru nodded thoughtfully. "Then his belief may be shaping the power, not the other way around…"
The Genie scratched his chin. "Well, there's one way to find out. Test the power he claims comes from this 'evil god.'"
"Agreed."
Interrupting Hidan mid-sermon, Orochimaru asked casually, "Is this 'evil god' of yours truly that powerful?"
Hidan's eyes flared. "You can doubt me, but you will not disrespect Evil God."
Orochimaru smiled mockingly. "I've heard enough to be curious. Show me."
He weaved a quick hand seal, summoning a large python. A kunai cut a shallow wound across its body—cold, reptilian blood trickling out. Then Orochimaru casually tossed the bloodstained kunai at Hidan.
"Let's see it. Show me the power of your so-called god."
Hidan caught the kunai and hesitated, visibly annoyed. It wasn't the killing—he loved that. It was the way Orochimaru ordered him, like a circus act performing tricks.
"…Tch. Bastard."
Still, he couldn't resist the provocation.
He licked the blood from the blade, drew his ritual circle with practiced ease, and within seconds, his skin was marked by the cult's signature black and white curse pattern.
A strange resonance rippled between him and the wounded snake.
"Fascinating…" Orochimaru murmured. His golden eyes gleamed, and he activated the chakra monitoring device at his side.
This was going to be very, very interesting.
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