No one understood the Third Hokage's methods better than Danzō.
Ever since their teacher, Tobirama Senju, passed away, Danzō had been watching Hiruzen from the shadows—witnessing his rise. From a young ninja forced into leadership under dire circumstances, Hiruzen had grown into a shinobi who could be gentle, ruthless, or cunning as the situation demanded. Even now, aged and seemingly passive, he was no man a minor village like Kusagakure could trifle with.
Danzō couldn't guess what Hiruzen was planning, but he was certain the old man was far from powerless.
Still, he had no intention of warning the Kusagakure emissary sitting before him. The masked ninja had a point—at least for now, the deal was worth making.
"So," Danzō said coldly, "you grass ninja want to make a private arrangement with me?"
He leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Do you understand the risk of doing this under the Hokage's nose? What's your offer?"
The masked emissary gave a sly smile. "That depends on how much you're willing to do."
Of course, from the beginning, Kusagakure had never expected to profit directly from this. Their true goal was to lure Danzō out from the shadows—and now, he was right where they wanted him.
---
Uchiha Clan Compound
"Waaah—!"
A baby's cries echoed from one of the bedrooms.
In the living room, Itachi paused mid-pour while serving tea to his father and teacher. The sound caught everyone's attention.
Fugaku nodded. "Go check on your brother. And… take him farther away."
Infants often cried without reason, and once they started, they rarely stopped quickly.
As Itachi left, Fugaku turned to Orochimaru, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "I heard Shisui's Mangekyō Sharingan has been restored. Why didn't you inform me?"
Orochimaru sipped his tea with a serene smile. "It wasn't anything special—just the fulfillment of our original agreement."
He had no intention of hiding Shisui's recovered dōjutsu. In fact, making it known served a purpose: keeping Fugaku invested and motivated.
The truth was, Orochimaru was running low on funds again.
His research over the past two years had yielded enormous results—thanks in no small part to Uchiha support. Without them, his work would've taken years longer. But with new experiments looming, the costs were rising faster than ever.
Still, none of that money was wasted—it all existed now as invaluable equipment and research assets.
Setting down his cup, Orochimaru met Fugaku's eyes and smiled. "Recovering Mangekyō Sharingan is just a matter of time. What I came here for today… is the matter we discussed previously."
Fugaku thought for a moment, then his eyes widened. "You mean… the surgery that can work on ordinary people?"
"Exactly. The process has already begun." Orochimaru licked his lips. "We're ready for official trials."
"That's… excellent news."
Fugaku was genuinely surprised at how quickly things had progressed. He'd assumed it would take as long as it did with Shisui's Sharingan.
But he hadn't fully grasped the implications.
And Orochimaru didn't mind spelling it out. "Clan Leader Fugaku, the formal trials still need funding."
Fugaku frowned. "Didn't I just give you another sum three months ago?"
"Thirty or forty million ryō isn't a small amount," he added under his breath.
"Scientific research is like shinobi training," Orochimaru replied smoothly. "There's no such thing as 'enough.'"
He smiled wider, voice low and persuasive. "Money doesn't vanish—it transforms. Would you rather let it rot in a vault, or use it to strengthen the Uchiha? Especially now, while the transformation is most effective."
Fugaku's throat was dry. He took a quick sip of tea to calm himself.
Uchiha could afford another thirty million ryō—but their wealth had taken generations to build, and Orochimaru's demands were relentless.
"How much will the full trials cost?" he asked. "And what will it take to apply the surgery to the whole clan once it succeeds?"
Orochimaru licked his lips again. "I can't give you exact figures yet… but it shouldn't be much."
"Not much," Fugaku repeated, feeling a headache coming on.
Before he could continue questioning, a knock came at the door.
"What is it?" he asked, annoyed.
"The leader of the Iron Country's samurai is here to see you," the guard reported. "He says the matter is urgent."
Fugaku raised an eyebrow. He'd heard about the Iron Country, but like most, considered the fall of a minor nation irrelevant.
He was about to dismiss the visitors when he saw Orochimaru give him a subtle nod.
"…Let them in."
As the guard left, Fugaku turned toward Orochimaru, puzzled.
"They're not here to see you, are they?"
Orochimaru smiled and said nothing.
Moments later, Mifune entered with two samurai in tow.
The instant he saw Orochimaru, a flash of excitement crossed his face. He quickly masked it, but Fugaku noticed.
"Lord Orochimaru. Clan Leader Fugaku."
Mifune bowed to both. The samurai behind him, Shousuke, clenched his jaw at the sight. If the Iron Country still stood, Mifune wouldn't have to bow to anyone—not even Orochimaru.
But Mifune hid his feelings well. After the greetings, he got straight to the point.
"I've heard, Lord Orochimaru, that you've developed a procedure—physical enhancement surgery—that greatly boosts a ninja's power. Is this true?"
Fugaku's suspicions were confirmed. Orochimaru, calm as ever, replied, "And if it is?"
Mifune's tone became firm. "Then I ask—can it be performed on the warriors of the Iron Country?"
"If the price is right, we can discuss it," Orochimaru said, licking his lips with a cold smile. "You're not from Konoha, so there's no restriction."
"But know this—this surgery is dangerous. For someone like you, the risk of death is nearly certain."
"Even so, will you go through with it?"
Mifune hadn't expected Orochimaru to agree so easily—but he didn't hesitate.
"Yes," he said firmly. "Even so."
_____________________
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