Deep underground, in a hidden laboratory untouched by sunlight, Orochimaru silently worked with a scalpel in hand. This kind of silence—immersed in his research—was what he enjoyed most.
So it was a rare sight when a ninja appeared behind him, kneeling halfway down in respect.
"Lord Orochimaru, the village… has found out about what's happening here."
Orochimaru paused. "You mean they've discovered what I'm doing? Is it knowledge… or a leak?"
"…It was leaked, Lord Orochimaru." The ninja bowed even lower, forehead nearly to the ground.
"Do you know how much was leaked?" Orochimaru asked, still calm. No anger, no surprise.
"Experiment A's information is fully compromised. As for Experiment B… it likely hasn't been exposed yet."
"Heh… Lord Danzo never disappoints."
If it was a leak, there was a good chance there were spies planted here—observers from Konoha's higher-ups.
"What should we do next, Lord Orochimaru?" the ninja asked. "Do we erase the site completely?"
By "erase," of course, he meant burning evidence, destroying corpses, vaporizing documents—everything.
"No need. Since the leak happened, if the village demands accountability and I have nothing to show them, it might provoke a rupture I can't afford right now. Unfortunately, I still need to remain in the village… So as much as it pains me, I'll just have to hand everything over. Heh… after all, I am a ninja of Konoha, am I not?"
"…And the traitor?"
"There are only a few people with access beyond the experimental subjects. The spy won't be hard to find."
Of course, when Orochimaru said he would hand over "everything," it clearly didn't include the traitor.
…
Somehow, I had survived one of Orochimaru's experiments. And just like that, I became a "successful sample"—a precious rarity. My worth had skyrocketed overnight. Before, I was just another body. Now, I was something worth preserving.
I was assigned a caretaker: a female ninja named Hotaru. She handled most of my post-experiment care.
Surprisingly, I recovered quickly. Within a week, I felt completely fine—full of energy, even.
They kept me locked in a cell the whole time, the same one where that tightly restrained child was being held. We'd spoken a little on the first day, but after that… silence. What was there to say between two prisoners?
One day, Hotaru came by as usual with our meals. Everything seemed normal—same expression, same mannerisms. But as she handed me the tray, I immediately noticed something strange: there was a folded piece of paper tucked beneath the plate.
I glanced at her. Her expression didn't change. Without reacting, I casually pressed my fingers down on the paper and slipped it into my sleeve when I took the tray.
I didn't look at it right away. Not while I was in plain view. I needed to be careful.
Still, I couldn't rely on peace and recovery to last forever. Just as I'd feared, the moment I felt healthy again, Orochimaru showed up.
The sight of him made my skin crawl. I remembered all too well the agony from last time—but I had no time for resentment or protest.
"The experiment was unexpectedly successful," he said, smiling. "That's good news—for both of us. Please, stretch out your arm."
I hesitated, then obeyed. Last time, they injected something into me. This time, they drew blood. A lot of blood. But honestly, that was a relief compared to being stabbed full of god-knows-what.
Trying to act calm, I asked, "Lord Orochimaru, may I ask… what kind of experiment this is?"
He looked pleased, not offended.
That was something I noticed about him. So long as you obeyed, didn't fight back or defy him, he was—strangely enough—easy to talk to. Courteous, even. He used honorifics, spoke politely.
It was weirdly jarring. Politeness in speech, cruelty in action. It all fit him disturbingly well.
"This is an inactivation test," he said. "Or inhibition, to be precise. What we're studying is too lethal to be practical. In order to make it viable, we must weaken it first."
He chuckled to himself. "Normally, using less of it would make control easier. But, interestingly enough, the opposite proved true. The large-dose experiment worked."
My blood continued to flow through the tube.
He continued, "In simpler terms—'Zero' is too deadly. Out of control. And he's still a child—he can't be pushed too hard. So, we need a 'One' who can contain the power of 'Zero.'
"Zero and One may not be strong on their own, but the transformation from Zero to One… that's where true potential lies. Infinite possibilities."
That… sounded like something meaningful. But I didn't fully understand it.
Then Orochimaru asked, "Do you feel any different from before?"
I thought for a second. "I guess I feel more energized. Healthier, even. But there's also this strange sensation, like something is flowing through my body… It feels like the air itself is moving inside me. Negative oxygen ions?"
As I answered, I subtly pulled my arm back. He'd taken a full vial of blood by now.
But the sensation wasn't a lie. It was real. My skin felt more sensitive, like it was picking up invisible threads in the air.
"No," he said, intrigued. "What you're sensing… is natural energy."
My mind froze. That term hit like a bolt of lightning. Natural energy.
Suddenly, everything clicked.
Zero… had to be Jūgo. That caged, silent child next to me. And I—I was "Number One."
I wasn't a prototype. I was a regulator. A human buffer for the overwhelming power of natural energy.
And that meant Orochimaru was experimenting with curse marks. This had to be the beginning of his development of them.
With that realization, I could finally guess the time period. The end of the Third Ninja World War. Orochimaru hadn't left the village yet. And judging by how intact the lab was… we were probably still somewhere beneath Konoha.
That meant things were only going to get worse. Orochimaru's descent into darkness would accelerate from here on.
The danger was mounting by the day. Staying here was suicide.
As I thought this, I caught myself staring at Orochimaru.
He noticed. And, misinterpreting the look in my eyes, gave a small smile.
"Don't worry," he said. "I just want your serum."
…
What the hell kind of reassurance was that?
Over the next three days, he came back daily to draw blood. Same amount every time. But oddly enough, I didn't feel weak at all. No dizziness, no fatigue. Maybe they were slipping something into my food—some kind of restorative.
It was eerie how stable things felt. Like I was being fattened up for something.
What made me uneasy wasn't just Orochimaru's visits—it was the absence of someone else.
Hotaru hadn't shown up since that day with the hidden note.
Not even once.
If I could use Earth Release, then with the current level of surveillance, I might've already put my escape plan into action. But just having earth-natured chakra in my body doesn't mean I can actually use Earth Release.
Unfortunately, I'm still a half-baked shinobi who can't use a single proper technique.
That said… after all this time researching it, I've started to grasp the essence of my "Magnetic Release."
It's different from the Magnetic Release of this world. That one only controls specific metals—iron, gold, sand, that sort of thing. But mine… mine works on all metals. I can alter their shape, hardness, toughness, and temperature at will. I can make them vibrate, float, or move in almost any state. It's broader, more conceptual, more… fundamental.
Put simply, "flying on a sword" isn't just a fantasy anymore. And realizing that this technique—this mystery with no clear origin—is even more powerful than I thought… I gave it a name: Mendeleev's Sorrow.
Dramatic, sure, but fitting.
Still, the problem is scale. If I had a massive chakra reserve—if I were some kind of monstrous powerhouse—I wouldn't even need jutsu. Just this technique alone would be enough to make me a terror on the battlefield.
But as Orochimaru himself put it, my chakra capacity is no more than that of an average Chūnin.
Which brings me to another problem.
I raised my arm, flexing the fingers of my altered hand.
Technically, I'm a "cyborg" now. But the real issue is just how far the transformation has gone… and what the results are.
I survived Jūgo's "assimilation test" with the Sage Body factor. That whole experience—yeah, definitely a brush with death. But it wasn't a proper Curse Mark trial, just the prerequisite for one. In the end, the only tangible benefit I got was this strange sensation… I could feel the presence of natural energy.
Not that I can use it. But I can feel it.
Honestly, the best thing I got out of it was the fact that I'm still alive.
No matter how optimistically I try to frame it, I can't ignore the reality—I'm still utterly powerless. But maybe… maybe that powerlessness isn't entirely bad.
Because soon, the decision of whether or not I should try to escape… might be made for me.
Sometimes, lying flat is the best way to survive.
The first sign of change came when the kid in the cage across from me—my cellmate—was taken away.
Not long after, I heard noises from behind the inner wall.
There's a row of palm-sized ventilation holes on the far wall of my cell. Behind it lies the "arena" where I fought that shinobi before. Through the holes, I could just make out the scene below… and there he was. The kid.
Was it his turn now?
But then I saw his opponent—and I froze.
It was Hotaru.
The support-type kunoichi who had disappeared a few days ago.
On one side, a child. On the other, a non-combat shinobi. Forced into a battle to the death. This world really is insane.
And all I could do was watch.
There's no morality here. No justice. Just survival—kill or be killed.
Back when I fought, I didn't even ask what happened to my opponent afterward. I didn't care. I was too busy trying to stay alive to waste sympathy on anyone else.
Now, it was happening again.
The fight began.
And the moment it did, I understood something about the child.
He weaved hand seals. The barren arena floor warped, then erupted. Something sprouted—long, thick vines that twisted and moved like snakes, striking with purpose and malice.
Wood Release.
He wasn't lying. He really was one of Orochimaru's Wood Release experiments. A kid with no name, no identity—maybe just a code now. "A." Someday, he'll be called Tenzo. Or Yamato.
"A" was a successful transplant of Hashirama's cells.
Hotaru didn't stand a chance.
She wasn't even a combat ninja.
The branches twisted and coiled, stained with blood so bright it looked almost painted on.
Someone wanted to live. Someone else died because of it.
That was the end of the fight.
I turned away from the wall, slid my back down until I was sitting, and closed my eyes.
That kind of lopsided battle… it wasn't for experimentation, nor to test a subject's strength.
It was an execution.
Hotaru was always going to die.
But why? She was Orochimaru's subordinate. Why would he kill his own?
My thoughts flicked to the note hidden on me. There had to be some connection. But now wasn't the time to dig into it.
"A" never returned to the cell.
Days passed. And I finally noticed something strange.
The facility… it was quiet. Too quiet.
Aside from us prisoners, it felt like the entire dungeon had been evacuated.
Did Orochimaru abandon this place?
"Freedom" came so suddenly, I almost starved to death before realizing it.
If no one was managing this place anymore, then this was my chance. The iron bars wouldn't stop me. Only Orochimaru could.
And now, he was gone.
Just as I was about to act, I heard footsteps again—clear, steady ones echoing down the hall.
Not just one person. Several.
Then someone opened the cell door.
A man in his twenties stepped inside. The most notable thing about him wasn't his face—it was the Konoha forehead protector on his head.
In that moment, I understood.
This dungeon… it was no longer under Orochimaru's control. It belonged to Konoha now.
"Yuhara? Please come with me," the man said, smiling kindly.
He knew my name. That meant this wasn't some sudden raid. This was a handover.
"...Alright."
And now I understood why "A" hadn't come back.
He's a successful Hashirama transplant. That kind of power is priceless. Compared to him, I'm just a failed experiment—scrap metal with a heartbeat.
When I stepped out of the cell, I saw more Konoha shinobi going cell to cell, identifying prisoners.
What kind of fate awaits someone like me?
What does Konoha plan to do with us?
I don't know.
Everything's up to konoha now.