Chapter 162: A Death or Death Experiment
Adults have far too many cells in their bodies. Modifying the genes of a single area is rarely effective unless the target is something localized, like a tumor or a specific hematopoietic function.
But if you want to truly change someone's physique, you have to program them in every aspect. That is a complicated, brutal task.
Even with the technological level of Kenichi's previous life, it would have been extremely difficult.
How many cells does a normal human body have, anyway?
The number is so large it becomes meaningless. You cannot truly count it, only estimate it as tens of trillions. And what does a trillion even mean? If cells could be exchanged for money, the world economy would probably collapse on the spot.
That was the terrifying reality. If you wanted to program that many cells, the difficulty would far exceed current technology. It was not just hard, it was an entire generation gap in capability.
"Teacher is really incredible."
After reading the ninjutsu scroll in his hand, even Kenichi had to admit it. Orochimaru's creativity was absurd. His research ability was completely beyond the norm.
The technique in the scroll was overflowing with imagination. According to its principles, it really was possible to program all the cells at once.
The problem was the cost.
The damage inflicted during the process was enormous, to an alarming extent. Multiple organ failure was a very real possibility. Of course, if you were lucky and the damaged cells did not immediately hit something fatal, then it might not be a big problem.
Medical ninjutsu in the ninja world had limits, but its short term healing ability was terrifying. Broken bones, as long as they were not shattered beyond repair like Guy's injuries, could usually be healed quickly. External wounds were even easier, and they often did not leave scars.
If someone returned to Kenichi's previous life with a technique like the Healing Palm, getting rich would not be a problem.
"Still, the mortality rate is indeed too high." Kenichi rested his chin on his hand, thinking. "Teacher's technique relies on a huge amount of Yang attribute chakra, so there isn't much room to modify the method."
At this point, they had basically done everything they could. There was not much left to change. Of course, it might take another attempt to find the precise issue.
After saying goodbye to Orochimaru, Kenichi returned to his own laboratory. He planned to begin as soon as possible. Orochimaru had already extracted the extra genetic information Obito possessed, and it was now in Kenichi's lab.
Even with both of their abilities, complete purification was impossible. Inevitably, the sample still contained other genetic information, which increased the chance of failure.
But that was the point of experiments.
In Kenichi's previous life, there was even a memorial day for laboratory animals, a day researchers used to remember the animals that sacrificed themselves for science.
Of course, that kind of thing was supposed to be reserved for necessity. Using people would bring fierce condemnation.
But this was the ninja world.
Human life was cheap.
Kenichi looked at the four Uchiha prisoners and decided this time he would take one man and one woman. It would make a comparative experiment easier. If there were differences between male and female bodies when receiving the technique, he wanted to see them clearly.
"This experiment is extremely dangerous," Kenichi said simply, eyes sweeping over the three frightened shinobi and the one who looked indifferent, Shiori. "The chance of survival is slim. But if you survive, you will gain a major opportunity."
Even with that promise, none of them looked better. They stared at him with the same evasive fear as academy students being called on by an instructor who already knew they had not done the homework.
Kenichi did not have any special cruelty in him. They were consumables either way. He simply pointed at a man and a woman at random.
"Wait a moment."
Kenichi turned, slightly surprised.
Shiori had spoken.
She was chained, but she still lifted her head. Her expression was calm, yet there was tension in her eyes.
"What is it?" Kenichi asked.
If it were anyone else, he would not have bothered. But Shiori had left an impression. He had even deliberately avoided choosing her, yet she still called him back.
"May I take her place in this experiment?" Shiori asked.
Kenichi stared at her. He had been very clear. This experiment was dangerous.
Yet she still volunteered.
Shiori's face remained indifferent, her eyes steady. Kenichi gave a noncommittal nod.
It was the same to him. If Shiori died, she died.
If she survived, though, he would give her preferential treatment. He needed to see the results of genetic programming on a living subject.
"Thank you, Shiori!" The woman Kenichi had chosen blurted out, voice shaking with relief. She looked so grateful she nearly dropped to her knees to bow.
Kenichi did not comment. He simply watched with his arms crossed.
"You're welcome." Shiori smiled faintly. "I just wanted a chance to change my fate. Thank you."
From her expression and tone, she meant it.
Kenichi raised an eyebrow. This girl kept surprising him. Her personality was not particularly likable, though. She spoke too directly, almost as if she lacked basic social sense.
"Are you sure you want to come with me?" Kenichi asked, amused. "If we succeed, you benefit greatly. If we fail, you die. The probability of failure is as high as 99.9%."
The male shinobi beside her trembled at those words. Under the cold gaze of Kenichi's shadow clone, he barely managed to suppress the urge to wet himself.
Kenichi glanced at the trembling man, then looked back at Shiori, curious how she would answer.
"Go away." Shiori's expression did not change. "I've never been talented. It takes me a full year to learn even a single Fireball Jutsu. My father told me the best future I could hope for was to find someone to marry."
She spoke as if she were talking about a stranger.
"So if success has benefits, why not try?" Shiori continued, eyes steady. "It's not like we're guaranteed to die anyway."
Kenichi clapped his hands once, satisfied.
This girl had guts. Unfortunately, her talent was average. Taking a year to learn Fireball Jutsu, never awakening the Sharingan, this was not the profile of someone with obvious potential.
Her likely future was exactly what she described. Marriage, children, low level missions to support a household.
That was also the fate of many shinobi.
Not everyone could climb higher. Advancement demanded talent, chakra growth speed, chakra reserves, learning speed, and more.
Even among academy graduates, aside from the few who became famous, how many could keep pace with the stronger young shinobi? Forget catching up to Naruto and Sasuke.
"All right. I've warned you." Kenichi said nothing more. He led the two of them toward the laboratory.
This time, it did not need to be a sterile lab.
"Who goes first?" Kenichi asked.
The male shinobi immediately glanced at Shiori.
Shiori stepped forward and lay down on the operating table without hesitation.
He had already guessed it. Most people feared life and death. Shiori was the only one who seemed unafraid.
Still, when Kenichi looked into her eyes up close, he saw it clearly.
There was fear.
And there was attachment.
Her expression was complicated.
"Good luck," Kenichi said.
He formed hand seals and began the technique Orochimaru had taught him. A large amount of Yang attribute chakra surged through the method, and the ninjutsu activated successfully.
"Is it over?" Shiori asked, disbelief creeping into her voice.
She had felt warmth spread through her body, then nothing. She looked down at herself. Her body seemed normal.
That left her unsettled. She had volunteered to gamble. She was prepared to die. But now it felt like the start had been fierce, only to end quietly, so much so that she wondered if this mysterious strongman had simply played a trick on her.
The male shinobi nearby was filled with immediate regret. If he had known it would look like this, he would have volunteered. Now Shiori had taken the chance for herself.
"That's it," Kenichi said, holding his experiment log as he observed her carefully. "Now we leave it to fate."
Gene programming was never easy.
Orochimaru's technique could indeed program all cells, but the chakra consumption was massive, to a terrifying degree. Even with Kenichi's physique, performing it was difficult.
The method was simple and crude. It forced those gene fragments into someone else's genes and hoped the body did not tear itself apart.
That was why it ended so quickly. The gap in their capabilities was too large.
To put it plainly, Orochimaru's technique was like using explosives to dig a tunnel. You might create an opening, but everything depended on chance.
Would it succeed? Unknown.
Would the tunnel immediately collapse into a landslide? Unknown.
Would it remain stable afterward? Unknown.
But the blast happened. The goal was attempted. That was all.
As for the success rate, that was up to fate.
A truly complete genetic programming process should have been complex and meticulous, like using a tunnel boring machine. It would be slow, but the success rate would be high, and fatalities would be far less likely.
Unfortunately, gene programming was too difficult. For now, Kenichi could only attempt research and improve as he went.
The technique had been used. The genes were being recombined. That process took time, and after that, it was fate again.
If you were lucky, you lived.
If you were unlucky, you died instantly.
Almost as soon as Kenichi finished speaking, Shiori's body convulsed.
Then, blood burst from her pores, as if her entire body had become a spray of red. It splattered in every direction.
"Aaaahhh!" Shiori screamed, pain ripping through her voice.
The boy beside her trembled so hard his knees nearly gave out.
Kenichi used Wind Release to block the blood and calmly wrote down what he saw.
[After undergoing the gene editing process, Subject One exhibited symptoms such as blood spraying from pores, extreme pain, and rapid muscle trembling, which may indicate genetic collapse.]
Kenichi's expression did not change.
She had done everything she could. Whether she survived depended on her own fate.
Shiori suddenly opened her mouth and spat out a blood red chunk.
Kenichi stepped closer, frowning as he examined it.
It was lung tissue.
She had coughed up part of her lung.
Kenichi let out a quiet sigh. It seemed Shiori was not a protagonist at all. Just an ordinary person who tried to change her fate and failed.
He continued recording the experimental results. He checked Shiori's pupil dilation. He filled a small sheet of paper with physical data.
Soon, Shiori lay motionless on the operating table, eyes empty.
The experiment had failed.
The first subject's heart had stopped.
Kenichi shook his head. Pathetic. A poor girl, but it was the path she chose.
"Call someone to clean this up," Kenichi said, looking at the blood, the scattered tissue, and the unidentifiable organs on the floor.
The consequences of genetic collapse were terrifying. Even looking at it for long was unpleasant.
Next, he needed someone to clean up, and then the experiment would continue.
Kenichi turned his eyes toward the male shinobi slumped nearby.
Then his keen hearing caught something faint.
A heartbeat.
Kenichi snapped his head back toward the table.
Shiori, who had stopped breathing and had no heartbeat moments ago, was breathing again. Her chest rose and fell slowly, as if her body had remembered how to live.
"She survived?" Kenichi breathed, genuine delight flashing through him.
Was he really that lucky?
How could she have survived?
The scene felt like a flower blooming in the middle of a desert.
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