"Then I must thank you for your generous guidance, Tsunade-sama," Kiyohara bowed deeply after the hours of intense anatomical theory had finally concluded.
As they were nearly finished, Kiyohara hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Lady Tsunade... could I borrow a section of the laboratory equipment here for the evening? I have some personal biological samples I need to verify."
Tsunade raised a delicate eyebrow. "Laboratory equipment? What exactly do you want to test?"
"Some... experimental medicinal ingredients. A secret, inherited medicine from my family. I simply want to confirm its biological safety before administering it," Kiyohara spoke vaguely, but his attitude was entirely professional.
Tsunade stared at him for a few seconds. She suddenly remembered that the first time she had ever properly noticed Kiyohara was after he had taken out an astronomical loan specifically to buy bulk medicinal herbs.
"Go ahead," Tsunade waved her hand dismissively. "Use that set of advanced analytical equipment on the left counter. Just don't break anything; those centrifuges are incredibly expensive."
She didn't seem particularly interested in prying into what exactly Kiyohara wanted to test. She respected that a shinobi had their own secrets. A clan's secret techniques and proprietary medicines were the absolute foundation of their livelihood; probing too deeply into another ninja's genetics would be a severe breach of protocol.
"I'll be having a drink on the hospital roof to decompress. Come find me when you're done locking up," Tsunade said. She had lost a massive amount of money to loan sharks over the past few days and planned to go feel the cold evening breeze on the roof to calm her violent mood.
"Thank you, Lady Tsunade."
After Tsunade left the room, Kiyohara walked over to the sterile laboratory bench.
The equipment here was state-of-the-art: electron microscopes, chemical centrifuges, chakra reaction testers, various acidic reagents, and sterile petri dishes were all meticulously arranged.
He had learned basic scientific theory at the Ninja Academy, and coupled with his recent, intense exposure in Orochimaru's subterranean laboratory, he already grasped the fundamental operation of this equipment.
He unsealed the heavy glass test tube containing the viscous, snow-white liquid from his hip pouch. It was exactly the "Power of the White Snake" given to him by Orochimaru.
Kiyohara didn't start the analysis immediately. Instead, he tapped the stone Urn in his mind and summoned the Iwa Spirit.
'Old man. Help me keep a 360-degree sensory watch on the surroundings. Pay special, microscopic attention to any abnormal chakra surveillance or hidden sealing formulas in this room.'
"Something Orochimaru gave you? Yes... it is extremely wise to double-check," the Iwa Spirit emerged from the Urn, instantly understanding Kiyohara's paranoia.
If it were him, he would have done the exact same thing. The main problem was that it was currently impossible to tell if Orochimaru's political alignment was currently "good" or "evil," so it was better to be absolutely paranoid.
After confirming the room was completely secure from surveillance, Kiyohara began the clinical operation.
He first extracted a microscopic drop of the white liquid with a pipette, placed it carefully on a glass slide, and observed it under the electron microscope.
After magnifying the sample a thousand times, he could clearly see countless tiny, translucent, serpentine cellular structures suspended in the fluid medium. They seemed to still maintain a low level of biological activity, slowly, mechanically wriggling within the fluid like parasitic worms.
"Highly active cells..." Kiyohara murmured.
He then proceeded with a rigorous series of basic biochemical tests: pH value testing, chakra affinity resonance, and chemical reaction testing with common combat toxins.
The grueling process lasted for nearly two hours.
The final clinical results showed that the primary component of this potion was a highly concentrated, biologically aggressive liquid consisting entirely of White Snake stem cells.
'It seems Lord Orochimaru's gift this time was indeed a genuine boon,' Kiyohara thought to himself.
At this specific point in the timeline, Orochimaru should still be deeply in the middle of researching the baseline Cursed Seal of Heaven and wouldn't have produced viable, stable results so quickly. This implied the "Power of the White Snake" should still be in a volatile process of constant refinement.
Of course, this didn't mean it was completely harmless. Any experimental drug that forcibly enhances human physical capabilities carries massive biological risks, but at least the most malicious possibilities—like mind-control parasites or delayed-action poisons—had been chemically ruled out.
'How can a modern shinobi get stronger without taking drugs?' Kiyohara joked darkly to himself.
Aside from the lethal, hyper-adrenaline pill given to him by the Rogue Spirit months ago, if he injected the "Power of the White Snake," it would count as his second time willingly taking a forbidden, experimental steroid.
At the very least, the complex centrifugal separation process required to extract the pure, beneficial substances from within the White Snake Sage's genetics was something that perhaps only Orochimaru in the entire world possessed the intellect to achieve.
He carefully sterilized and returned all the laboratory equipment to their proper places, locked up, thanked Tsunade on the roof, and said his goodbyes. Tsunade simply waved her sake flask to indicate she heard him, then impatiently took the "tuition" money Kiyohara had given her today and headed straight for the nearest casino.
Evening. At Kiyohara's apartment.
At this moment, three wire cages sat on his kitchen table, each containing a small, terrified white mouse.
He had bought these from a civilian pet shop next to a ninja tool store on his way back; that specific shop occasionally sold cheap animals specifically used for toxicological ninja training.
He performed a more cautious, live-subject experiment once again.
The first mouse was injected with a microscopic, diluted dose of the "Power of the White Snake." After observing it clinically for half an hour, the mouse showed no physiological abnormalities; instead, it became hyper-active, and its white fur grew visibly glossier and thicker.
The second mouse was injected with a much heavier, half-drop dose. After an hour of observation, it was also in excellent biological condition and even performed significantly better in mechanical reaction speed tests.
The third mouse served purely as the control group and received no treatment.
"The biological safety threshold should be fine," Kiyohara made his final judgment, looking at the first two mice jumping frantically around in their cages.
Kiyohara sat cross-legged on his tatami mat and poured all the remaining white liquid from the test tube directly into his mouth.
The viscous liquid was slightly cool as it slid down his throat.
For the first ten seconds, there was absolutely no sensation at all.
Then, a massive, explosive warm current rose violently from his stomach, rapidly spreading through his cardiovascular system to his four limbs and seeping into every bone.
It wasn't a normal, feverish heat, but a terrifying warmth that reached deep into his marrow and permeated every single cell.
Kiyohara could clearly feel that foreign, serpentine power wandering through his body. Wherever it passed, his muscle fibers and bones felt a slight, agonizing tingling itch; he physically felt as though his cellular density was rapidly increasing.
His chakra meridians seemed to become physically wider, capable of holding vastly more energy.
The sensation of heat grew violently stronger, gradually becoming scorching.
Kiyohara's skin began to flush a deep, dangerous red. Massive beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and his breathing became ragged and heavy.
He gritted his teeth, forcibly guiding this external, invasive power to merge completely with his own biology.
The massive, intrinsic life force of his genetic Yang Release leaped for joy within his body, as if it had finally encountered energy from the exact same evolutionary source. It actively met and violently intertwined with the "Power of the White Snake."
Kiyohara could physically feel his baseline life force being replenished and permanently enhanced; his cellular activity and natural regenerative capabilities were all skyrocketing.
The agonizing transformation process lasted for a full two hours.
When the last trace of scorching heat finally receded, Kiyohara slowly opened his black eyes.
His entire body was soaked in cold sweat, but he felt better, lighter, and stronger than ever before in his life.
He clenched his fist; the sheer sense of power felt vastly more solid, continuously nourishing his body and even faintly accelerating the natural, passive recovery rate of his chakra coils.
Kiyohara walked out into his small courtyard, formed a single hand seal, and refined his chakra.
"Wind Release: Wind Cutter Technique!"
This was the advanced B-Rank ninjutsu he had just obtained from Orochimaru.
A thin, incredibly sharp, crescent-shaped blade of invisible wind flew from his palm, silently slicing directly through a decorative boulder the thickness of a bowl in the courtyard.
The heavy stone snapped apart seamlessly, the cut surface as perfectly smooth as a polished mirror.
Kiyohara carefully perceived the internal consumption and subsequent recovery of his chakra.
Releasing this high-level Wind jutsu consumed roughly ten percent less raw chakra than it mathematically should have.
And after the consumption... the speed of his passive chakra recovery had clearly, undeniably accelerated!
If passively recovering chakra before was like using a medical dropper to drip water into a bucket, now it was like a thin, steady, continuous stream of water from a faucet.
Although it wasn't an instantaneous, full refill like the Iwa Spirit's active metabolic hijacking, this kind of continuous, passive recovery buff was of apocalyptic significance in a prolonged battle of attrition.
"Both health regeneration and mana regeneration speeds have received a massive, permanent baseline buff..." Kiyohara felt the warm energy flowing slowly within his body, his heart filled with dark joy.
The Power of the White Snake primarily strengthened his physical foundation, and because it was highly compatible with his own mutated Yang Release, it brought additional, permanent life force and accelerated chakra recovery.
It was like making the biological foundation of his body much thicker and sturdier.
"Next up... is the Land of Rain."
Three days later. Early morning.
The sun had just risen, and there was still a biting, damp chill in the air.
A pitter-patter of light, freezing rain had already begun to fall from the gray sky. A layer of thin, depressing mist shrouded the front of the massive Konoha Village gates.
Kiyohara arrived early. His newly purchased tactical pouch hung heavily at his waist, his premium chakra-conductive chainmail shirt fit tight against his torso, and a dark gray, heavy waterproof cloak was draped over his armor.
He meticulously checked his equipment one final time: his reserves of refined iron sand and explosive tags were at maximum capacity, and his standard sealing scrolls were stuffed with soldier pills and advanced first-aid serums.
Kiyohara had also gone out of his way to buy a massive, high-capacity industrial sealing scroll at an exorbitant price. It was currently entirely empty, intended specifically for hoarding massive amounts of spoils of war.
Then, Kiyohara looked at the towering green wooden gates.
"Kiyohara!" A crisp voice called out from the gloom.
Kurenai stepped out from the thin mist, also wearing a heavy, dark green rainproof cloak, her long, curly black hair tied in a neat ponytail to keep it out of the weather.
Genma followed sluggishly beside her, the latter adjusting the heavy hood of his cloak with a profoundly troubled, miserable expression.
It just had to rain on the exact day they were heading out. Thinking about how he would be soaked to the bone in freezing mud for the next few weeks in the Land of Rain made him feel physically ill. Genma despised the rain.
"You guys arrived really early," Genma let out a massive yawn around his senbon. "I heard it's currently flooding heavily in the Land of Rain right now. I really, really don't want to go..."
Kiyohara was about to respond pragmatically when he suddenly saw several more figures emerge from the morning mist.
Rin carried a heavy medical bag, with purple clan face paint streaked on her cheeks.
Beside her stood Kakashi, with his gravity-defying silver hair and black mask. And leading them was a tall man with spiky golden hair and a warm, sunny smile—it was none other than the Yellow Flash, Minato Namikaze.
"Lord Minato?" Kiyohara was genuinely somewhat surprised.
"Yo, Kiyohara-kun," Minato greeted him with a bright smile. "We're going the same way. We have an advanced escort mission near the border of the Land of Grass, and our route just so happens to coincide with Senior Orochimaru's caravan for a long stretch."
Kakashi nodded to Kiyohara, his lone eye curving slightly. "Congratulations. I heard you're almost officially a Jonin, too."
Seeing his former classmate about to be promoted to Jonin as well, Kakashi genuinely felt happy for Kiyohara. But alongside that happiness, he still felt a suffocating sense of pressure.
When spending time with a true genius, peers will always inevitably face more psychological pressure. Kakashi, who was originally hailed as the ultimate prodigy of his generation, had never felt this way before. But now, looking at the black-haired boy, he felt a faint, terrifying... pressure from Kiyohara.
Rin waved with a bright smile. "Kiyohara! Congratulations on the promotion!"
"Thank you," Kiyohara responded smoothly.
Kurenai walked up to Kiyohara, looked at his face carefully beneath his hood, and suddenly whispered, "Kiyohara... you seem... a little different? Your skin seems a bit fairer, and your complexion is especially... healthy."
Kiyohara's heart stirred. Was the biological strengthening effect of the 'Power of the White Snake' really that visually obvious?
He touched his face. "Maybe it's simply because I've actually been resting well lately."
"Is that so..." Kurenai was deeply skeptical but didn't pry further.
From the thin mist, a slender, terrifying figure slowly approached.
Orochimaru was dressed in standard tactical attire with a heavy black cloak draped over his shoulders. His golden vertical pupils looked exactly like the eyes of a cold-blooded apex predator hunting in the morning mist.
His gaze swept over everyone, lingering an extra, meaningful microsecond on Kiyohara, a faint, dark smile playing at the corners of his pale mouth.
"Everyone is here," Orochimaru's voice was raspy and commanding. "Minato. You're accompanying us for the first stretch?"
"Yes, Senior Orochimaru," Minato said respectfully.
Orochimaru was Jiraiya's teammate, and both were elite disciples of the Third Hokage. Since Minato was Jiraiya's direct disciple, Orochimaru was theoretically his senior uncle in the hierarchy.
"Our primary mission rendezvous point is thirty kilometers east of the Land of Rain border. We can travel together until we reach the primary logistics village where my team will be stationed," Minato explained the route.
"Then let's set off," Orochimaru hissed.
The combined group then walked through the massive gates.
Not far outside the village walls, there was a massive civilian transport caravan using heavy, horse-drawn carriages with massive logistical goods pulled behind them.
Kiyohara took one clinical look at the wooden carriages and knew this journey would take a frustratingly long time.
How could standard draft horses possibly outrun a trained ninja? Even the most basic D-Rank Body Flicker could move a genin at high speed for at least five meters in a single burst.
"Lord Orochimaru! And Lord Minato! I... I didn't expect you to both be assigned to my detail!" A wealthy, sweating merchant waiting outside approached them, completely overjoyed.
With two such apocalyptic heavyweights present on his escort, what possibility was there of his goods being stolen by rogue ninja?
"What is your name, and exactly how many people are currently employed in your caravan?" Orochimaru asked coldly.
"There are thirty-six people in my employ. My name is Jirobo, and I am the chief financier and leader of this merchant caravan," Jirobo said, bowing deeply. "Please, come this way."
Jirobo called a servant over and had them prepare two premium, covered carriages for the shinobi. The carriages were massive, enough to comfortably accommodate seven or eight people each.
So, the combined shinobi group boarded the carriages together.
"It's frustratingly slow, but at least we don't have to burn chakra running through the mud," Kiyohara noted pragmatically, sitting in the carriage and watching the wet scenery constantly receding outside the window.
'The Land of Earth doesn't possess nearly as much fertile, flat land as the Land of Fire,' the Iwa Spirit materialized in a floating, invisible state and spoke directly into Kiyohara's mind. 'Iwa is mostly comprised of high, jagged mountains and steep, barren ridges. And since shinobi mostly don't engage in agricultural production, it's incredibly hard to develop a stable economy.'
'That's exactly why the Land of Fire is aggressively attacked by so many neighboring countries; they all want a piece of the geographical prize,' Kiyohara replied internally, shaking his head.
War results in mass civilian deaths. Except for some psychopaths, most people do not inherently desire war. The fundamental reason Ninja World Wars break out in a continuous, bloody cycle is simply the brutal issue of resource distribution.
Why should civilians in Sunagakure be forced to be born to face the scorching sand and the sun, dealing with constant, agonizing water shortages? While the civilians of the Land of Fire live such lush, affluent lives in eternal spring?
Over time, economic jealousy naturally boils over into total war.
"Is this Kiyohara-kun's first time riding in a civilian carriage?" Orochimaru noticed Kiyohara occasionally looking at the plush interior furnishings of the carriage and asked curiously.
"This is indeed my first time riding in a carriage," Kiyohara nodded.
In the Ninja World, although scientific technology is rapidly advancing, it is wildly unbalanced. For instance, many Daimyo and political nobles still use traditional, slow vehicles like horse-drawn carriages and wooden palanquins. Yet, inside the Hidden Villages, there are already modern, electrical products like refrigerators, radios, and televisions.
"I was about the same age as you, Kiyohara-kun, when I first rode in a carriage," Orochimaru conversed softly with the boy, his tone carrying a rare hint of nostalgia.
Across the aisle, Kurenai and Rin sat together, the two girls occasionally whispering and chatting about mundane topics to relieve the tension.
"Kiyohara-kun is really amazing... talking to a legendary shinobi like Lord Orochimaru without even flinching," Rin sighed softly in genuine admiration.
"He has always been amazing," Kurenai nodded in deep, proud agreement.
By now, Kurenai recognized Kiyohara as an absolute, peerless genius. And in her heart, she even faintly, secretly felt that Kiyohara was now vastly stronger than Kakashi.
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Give me powerstones.
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