"Magnet Release?"
After a brutal battle that turned out to be nothing more than a test, I was thrown back into my cell. They gave me a bit of explanation afterward—just enough to mess with my head.
According to what I remember from the "original story," Magnet Release was a kekkei genkai used by the Third, Fourth, and even Fifth Kazekage. In practice, it meant controlling metal on a large scale—basically a ninja version of a "young Magneto."
But… am I really someone with Magnet Release?
Sure, I managed to control that kunai at the end of the fight, but if that's what Magnet Release is supposed to feel like, something's off. It didn't match what I remembered. There was an odd sense of dissonance—like the chakra's movement didn't fit the image I had in my head.
Was that just my own bias, or was there an actual, objective difference?
I didn't know. So I decided to test it myself.
"It should be this thing… yeah, found it."
I pulled open the ninja pouch behind me, sifting through until I found what I was looking for—chakra-sensitive paper. It's usually used for inscribing seals, but it reacts to elemental chakra and can double as a basic chakra nature test. Not the most precise tool, but it would do.
I held a strip of the paper between my fingers.
"…This is how you do it, right?"
As I channeled chakra through my fingertips, the paper reacted almost immediately. First, it crumpled. Then, it split. Finally, the surface cracked apart and shattered into pieces.
Wrinkle. Slice. Shatter.
Three different reactions.
I wasn't sure which element caused what anymore, but I could make educated guesses. The five basic chakra natures—lightning, wind, fire, earth, and water—each produced different effects.
Wrinkling meant lightning.
Cutting? Wind.
Shattering? Earth.
So, I had three chakra natures—lightning, wind, and earth.
I rubbed my thumb against the edge of the ruined paper, staring blankly at the fragments.
Back when I was just a reader, I never memorized the exact combinations that produced certain kekkei genkai. But I did remember one thing: Magnet Release was a bloodline limit, and all bloodline limits were formed by the fusion of two chakra natures.
But I had three.
And combining three elements wasn't a bloodline limit—it was something far rarer.
Bloodline elimination.
In the entire Naruto world, there was only one well-known bloodline elimination technique—Dust Release. That was it. No others. Just the one.
So… was my so-called "Magnet Release" really a mislabeling of something else?
Was the technique I used back then—pulling the kunai—actually the surface expression of a bloodline elimination?
I didn't know.
And honestly, after racking my brain for far too long without finding any answers, I decided to stop caring. Whether it was Magnet Release, Dust Release, or some unnamed freak mutation, it didn't matter.
Not right now.
No ability, no matter how rare or powerful, would help me escape this hellhole.
Potential? Growth curve? Kekkei genkai? None of it would matter if I died here.
And let's be honest—reality wasn't going to give me the time or space to master anything. Whatever Orochimaru had planned, it wasn't training. It was experimentation. Dangerous, unpredictable, inhumane experimentation.
I didn't know what was coming next. I didn't know how long I had.
I didn't even know if I'd still be myself a week from now.
All I knew was this:
I had just been reborn… and the first boss I ran into was already a final boss-level monster.
There was no retry button.
And no one was coming to save me.
The day after the fight, the female ninja—Hotaru—came to my cell again.
"The experiment is about to begin. Please follow me."
"Experiment?"
I didn't ask further. I didn't try to resist either. What could a fish on a cutting board do, except wait to be sliced? When she opened the door, I followed in silence.
We walked quietly for a while. Then I asked, "The man I fought yesterday…"
"You should have killed him," she said, her voice calm.
I paused. "What do you mean by that?"
She glanced back at me, then kept her eyes forward.
"Lord Orochimaru values experimental materials. If you're useful, he'll use you one way. If you're not, he'll use you another. And if you're dead... well, that's another kind of use too."
"…I see."
I didn't speak after that.
Whatever logic I carried from my past life didn't work here. Mercy didn't mean the same thing anymore. "Killing you is doing you a favor"—that kind of twisted reasoning made sense in the ninja world.
We walked up a long passage and eventually reached a higher level underground. After passing through several sealed doors, we arrived.
Orochimaru was waiting.
Compared to the cells below, this place looked like a proper lab.
No—it was a lab. A real one.
A terrifying, biochemical lab.
Corpses hung from the wall like slabs of meat. I didn't let myself feel anything. I might be next—just another strip of dried flesh.
Orochimaru looked slightly pleased when he saw me. He waved Hotaru away, then turned to me.
"Draw a lot. In order."
He handed me a container. I pulled a paper stick from inside and opened it.
"Orochimaru… Sir. This 'experiment'… what am I supposed to do?"
He took the container back and smiled.
"You don't have to do anything. You're just assisting.
As long as the theory holds and the method is sound, everything else is dosage. Whether it takes a thousand trials or ten thousand, success will come eventually.
That's science."
"…Exhaustive," I muttered.
From his mouth, the word dripped blood.
"What number did you get?" he asked.
I held up the slip. "Ninety-seven."
"Ninety-seven… In one sense, you're lucky. In another, much more important sense… very unlucky."
I didn't ask what that meant.
I already understood.
Each number represented a different dose.
Ninety-seven wasn't just high.
It was lethal.
I saw Orochimaru pick up a syringe. A massive one.
The last time I'd seen something like that, I was in the countryside, tagging along with a vet treating livestock. Back then, it was used on pigs and goats. Now, it was filled with a strange lavender liquid—viscous, shimmering faintly.
Everything about it felt wrong.
My body twitched, instinctively trying to flee, but under Orochimaru's gaze, I couldn't move. I just stood there, frozen, and watched as he plunged the syringe into my arm.
Even after he withdrew the needle, my arm stayed lifted. I stared at the spot, breath shallow, nerves taut like wires.
A few seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
...Maybe I was fine?
That was the last optimistic thought I had.
The next moment, pain bloomed from every cell.
Tearing. Swelling. Like needles were threading through muscle. Like hammers striking from inside my bones.
I dropped to the ground.
I wanted to scream, but my face had locked up. My jaw wouldn't open. All that escaped was a low, broken groan. I couldn't even thrash. The pain held me down from the inside out.
It wasn't like being wounded.
It was like being unraveled.
After a couple of minutes, I lost consciousness.
Just like before, it felt like sinking into a night that never ended.
But this time, the night didn't last forever.
When I woke up again, the pain was gone—but it had left a deep, aching soreness in its place. Every inch of me felt like it had been beaten and stitched back together wrong.
I tried lifting my head.
It barely moved.
Clang!
A metallic sound followed.
I frowned.
Something didn't feel right.
Looking down, I realized I was lying in a human-shaped iron shell.
"…Incredible that you actually survived. Congratulations. Looks like the experiment worked."
A voice spoke up from not far away.
I shifted slightly, dragging myself until I was propped against the wall. With some effort, I sat up halfway. Across from me was a large iron cage. Inside was a chair—and a child strapped into it.
That was who had spoken.
He—or maybe she—was small, limbs bound in what looked like a straightjacket. Their eyes were covered by a blindfold etched with faint markings. Seals, maybe. Circles of ink formed larger patterns on the floor around the chair.
This wasn't the same lab I'd been in before.
It was some other cell. Bigger. Older.
"…How long was I out?" I asked.
My voice scraped out, dry and hoarse.
"You were struggling here for about seven days," the kid said. His tone was weirdly cheerful, like they hadn't talked to anyone in a while.
"…You can see? Through the blindfold?"
"Of course I can."
"Then… what happened to me?"
"What happened?" The kid paused like they were recalling a show he'd seen before. "Well, you reacted just like the others. Your body twisted and stretched until you turned into a five- or six-meter-tall monster. And then, normally, you'd explode. But you didn't."
He tilted his head slightly. "Magnetic-type, right? Your ability kicked in on its own. When your body started breaking down, you instinctively wrapped yourself in layers of iron. Sealed yourself tight. It was kind of fascinating to watch."
His words triggered a memory—or at least, a guess.
There must have been a cage around me too. Like theirs. And when I passed out, I hadn't just collapsed inside it.
I'd controlled it.
I turned the whole cage into a cocoon around myself.
The iron shell on the floor wasn't something I was placed into. It was something I made. Like batter crust around a frying fish. Not a great comparison, but whatever.
I was alive. That was all that mattered.
"…One last question, kid. Who are you?"
"Me? I don't have a name. As for what I am…"
The child smiled beneath the blindfold. "Just another of Orochimaru's test subjects. Same as you."
"…So we're in the same boat."
"In the same boat?" he repeated. "Not quite. I got dragged into this because of you. I was supposed to be transferred somewhere else. But thanks to you, they locked me in here again. And now, well…"
His voice softened.
"…I might never leave."
"…What?"
I didn't understand what he meant.
Not yet.