News of several geniuses emerging from Konoha Village spread like wildfire after the training exercise ended, quickly reaching Orochimaru, who was studying commissions at the mission office.
"Shimura Feng Bai? Shimura Danzō's son? I see, so those two samples..." Upon hearing this intelligence from a nearby ninja, Orochimaru quickly connected Feng Bai with those particular samples.
Damn Danzō—so this was his reason for cutting ties with me.
Orochimaru's expression turned ugly.
Ever since his split with Danzō, his days had become considerably harder than before.
Although Orochimaru had left with harsh words, saying Danzō would surely regret it, a year had passed. Whether Danzō regretted it or not, Orochimaru himself was starting to feel some regret.
The reason was simple—life without money was truly miserable.
In the past, Orochimaru relied on Danzō's funding: experimental equipment bought by the pound, laboratory space allocated by the acre, never worrying about food or drink, never needing to take any missions.
Now, not only could he no longer afford experimental equipment, but even his laboratory space had been reclaimed by Danzō's subordinates as Root property.
Not to mention all the materials he'd painstakingly gathered—everything had been sealed away by Root ninjas.
With nowhere else to live, Orochimaru had no choice but to return to the small house his parents had left him after their deaths, cleaning it up before moving in.
"Genius, hmph. Compared to eternal life, it's worthless." Orochimaru muttered in his raspy voice, lost in some private thought.
"So terrifying—is this really Lord Orochimaru, one of the Legendary Sannin?"
"A fearsome ninja who shows ruthless indifference to both enemies and comrades alike—his reputation is well-deserved."
"Just standing near him makes my body tremble constantly."
The Konoha ninjas, frightened by Orochimaru's gloomy aura, gathered at a distance and whispered among themselves.
Orochimaru, absorbed in his own thoughts, paid them no mind, sinking deeper into his own world.
Genius—once upon a time, he too had been called that.
However, during wartime, so-called geniuses were nothing more than expendable resources in the hands of the higher-ups.
Having participated in the Second Shinobi World War, Orochimaru had personally witnessed countless geniuses fall: some blown up by explosive tags, others mysteriously disemboweled, and some poisoned by a mysterious man riding a fish...
No matter how great their talent or mastery of ninjutsu, none could escape death's cruel fate.
So, Kakashi, Feng Bai, Asuma—in what manner will you meet your end in this cruel ninja world?
Though he thought this way, if Orochimaru couldn't find suitable commissions to fill his stomach, he too would become one of those fallen geniuses.
Most missions posted at the commission office were like children playing house; the truly dangerous assignments were all personally assigned by the Hokage.
In other words, Orochimaru's current predicament was this: either compete with genin for wealthy clients' petty commissions, or swallow his pride and ask Hiruzen for missions.
Damn Danzō!
Orochimaru cursed Danzō in his mind for the umpteenth time, his expression growing increasingly sour.
...
"Achoo!"
Danzō, sitting at home receiving reports from his subordinates, suddenly sneezed.
"Are you alright, Lord Danzō?" Bing, who had been splattered with saliva while reporting, wiped his face and asked with concern.
"It's nothing. Continue." Danzō shook his head, attributing it to some evil Uchiha plotting behind the scenes.
"Yes. Young Master Feng Bai defeated Sarutobi Asuma with just two moves. Under Captain Ryōma's instructions, we've already begun secretly spreading word of this incident." Bing lowered his head and continued his report.
Hearing that the villagers already knew how outstanding his son was, Danzō nodded with satisfaction: "You've done well. Only Feng Bai, who has inherited my will, can change this decaying Konoha. Only when he becomes Hokage can the darkness shrouding Konoha be dispelled."
"Alright, Feng Bai has returned. You may withdraw." Hearing movement outside the door, Danzō waved his hand, signaling his subordinate could leave.
Pushing open the door, Feng Bai glanced at Danzō sitting in the living room and nodded at him in greeting.
"I heard you defeated Sarutobi Asuma?" Danzō took the initiative to inquire about Feng Bai.
Feng Bai wasn't surprised by his cheap father's question—after all, this was Konoha's intelligence chief. If he didn't know about such matters, he'd be unfit for his position.
Feng Bai readily admitted: "Yes, but it was just a training exercise."
"Hmm, neither arrogant nor complacent—truly worthy of being my son." Danzō was very satisfied with Feng Bai's performance and, unusually, praised him to his face: "However, this indeed isn't something worth boasting about. My son defeating Hiruzen's son is only natural."
Worried that Feng Bai might become arrogant from his praise, Danzō continued to add context.
You say that, but how come you never defeated the Third Hokage? Instead, you follow behind him all day like a lapdog taking the blame.
Feng Bai silently complained.
"In any case, you must continue training. Strive to participate in the chūnin exams and advance to chūnin as quickly as possible after graduation. Then I'll find a way to transfer you into ANBU and make you a jōnin." In his good mood, Danzō spoke of his arrangements for Feng Bai.
Meanwhile, Asuma hummed a little tune as he returned home.
Upon entering, he immediately saw the Hokage's hat hanging on the wall—a symbol of Hiruzen's identity.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue in displeasure, took off his shoes, and walked into the living room while instinctively glancing toward the study.
Sure enough, Hiruzen was in the study, brush in hand, writing vigorously on rice paper, occasionally pausing to think—giving off the air of a scholarly gentleman.
"What, not busy today?" Seeing his old man had no intention of acknowledging him, Asuma couldn't help but speak up.
"Oh, it's Asuma! Sorry, sorry—I was so focused on writing that I didn't notice you, hahaha." Hearing his son's voice, Hiruzen chuckled awkwardly, put down his brush, and walked into the living room with his hands behind his back, standing before Asuma.
"So, how was school today?" Looking his son up and down and seeing no injuries, Hiruzen felt relieved.
"Hmph, you're the Hokage—don't tell me you don't know what happened at school. Always asking obvious questions, constantly treating me like a child!" Asuma was very displeased with Hiruzen's performance, his tone unconsciously rising.
"You two—father and son—always arguing the moment you see each other! Can't you be quiet for once!" Hearing Asuma's voice, Sarutobi Biwako poked her head out from the kitchen, waving the ladle in her hand and loudly scolding them.
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