Chapter 16 — Alchemical Bloodline Limit
(The "Alchemical Bloodline Limit" takes its meaning from Fullmetal Alchemist.)
"I would be honored, Lord Orochimaru."
Upon hearing this, Gekkō Ren replied respectfully. His voice, however, remained cold—the electronically synthesized tone hoarse and utterly devoid of emotional fluctuation.
As for his technological template, Gekkō Ren had already anticipated this situation the moment he decided to follow Namikaze Minato back to Konoha's camp. He had carefully considered how things would unfold and prepared both his response and explanation in advance—including this very scenario, the most predictable of them all.
"Then I shall watch with great interest," Orochimaru said with a faint smile, fixing his gaze on Gekkō Ren, clearly expecting a demonstration right here and now.
"Lord Orochimaru, I have named my bloodline limit 'Alchemy.'"
Understanding Orochimaru's intent, Gekkō Ren raised his right hand toward the wooden wall inside the cabin—and in the next instant, his arm transformed into a shotgun.
The moment Gekkō Ren's hand turned into the strange weapon, Orochimaru's pupils contracted sharply. Even he had failed to catch the transformation process. And who was he? The most prized disciple of the Third Hokage, one of the legendary Sannin—Orochimaru himself. Yet he had not perceived the slightest trace of the change.
Standing nearby, Namikaze Minato was equally stunned. With his lightning-fast reflexes and exceptional dynamic vision, he too had seen nothing of the transformation. It was as though Gekkō Ren's arm had changed in a single instant—or as if his right hand had always been that way to begin with.
But their memories clearly told them otherwise. Their eyes had failed to capture the process entirely. The speed alone was enough to prove how extraordinary this bloodline limit was. If it were weak, then only the wielder could be considered incompetent.
"An Alchemical Bloodline Limit… indeed a powerful one. Ren, quickly show us what it can do," Orochimaru said eagerly, unable to resist licking his lips. His interest in this brand-new bloodline limit was growing by the second.
"Yes."
Gekkō Ren nodded and fired at the wooden wall beside him.
Bang!
The shotgun's deep, resonant report exploded through the cabin, echoing beyond the command hut and carrying far into the distance.
Boom!
The wooden wall groaned like a door being smashed apart. Splinters burst outward in all directions, leaving behind a bowl-sized crater. Had the cabin not been constructed from thick tree trunks, it likely would have been blasted clean through.
"Lord Orochimaru!"
The sudden thunderous noise prompted several shinobi guarding outside to rush in within moments.
Slightly annoyed at the interruption, Orochimaru waved his hand dismissively. "Everything is fine. Return to your posts. Without my order, no one is to enter."
"Yes!"
After the guards withdrew, Orochimaru examined the crater in the wall carefully before offering his evaluation.
"The power is considerable. And it requires no hand seals. The attack speed is extremely fast. At close range, if struck, most shinobi—aside from a select few—would either die or be crippled. Even a jōnin would struggle to evade such a swift strike unless they predicted it in advance and prepared accordingly. Very few could block it outright."
He paused, then continued calmly.
"However, at longer distances, although the attack spreads wider, it also becomes more dispersed. The point of impact grows harder to control, and the lethality decreases significantly. This is a technique suited primarily for close-quarters combat."
It truly was worthy of one of the legendary Sannin. Not only a genius, but immensely experienced—Orochimaru had discerned most of the shotgun's strengths and weaknesses from a single demonstration.
Minato nodded from the side; his own assessment was the same.
"As for this entirely new bloodline limit," Orochimaru continued, his gaze growing ever more intrigued, "Ren must have developed other techniques as well. Otherwise, it would be impossible to defeat more than a dozen elite Suna shinobi—including Pakura."
Without hesitation, Gekkō Ren transformed his right hand once more—this time into an M24 light machine gun—and pulled the trigger toward the wooden wall.
Rat-tat-tat-tat—!
Crisp, continuous gunfire filled the cabin, reverberating within and echoing far outside. The surrounding shinobi looked curiously toward the wooden command hut, but under Orochimaru's strict orders, none dared enter.
Inside, the log wall splintered violently under the barrage.
Thud-thud-thud—!
Wood chips flew everywhere as stone-formed bullet casings clattered to the ground like beans pouring from a sieve.
Finger-thick round holes rapidly multiplied across the wall of logs.
After firing more than thirty rounds, Gekkō Ren stopped. This was only a demonstration, not battle—there was no need to waste additional energy points.
Clap, clap, clap—!
"What a truly astonishing bloodline limit," Orochimaru praised, applauding lightly as he admired the densely perforated wall.
This second attack was far more concentrated than the first. At mid-to-long range, its lethality was significantly greater, and its rate and speed of fire far exceeded that of the shotgun. Even against jōnin, it would provide overwhelming suppression at those distances.
No wonder a mere genin-level Gekkō Ren had been able to kill so many Suna shinobi beyond his rank.
But still, it was not enough.
The Suna shinobi had not fought alone—they would counterattack, defend, and devise tactics to exploit weaknesses. Gekkō Ren must possess an even more astonishing trump card—something that allowed him to withstand and overpower their techniques head-on.
"Ren surely has an even more praiseworthy move to show us," Orochimaru said with a smile, anticipation flickering in his eyes.
"..."
Gekkō Ren fell silent.
After enduring one fierce battle after another, he understood his own limitations well. A shotgun and light machine gun alone could not have enabled him to kill so many Suna shinobi and emerge unscathed.
Should he reveal the Barrett? Or should he expose the abnormality of his own body?
Both were current trump cards.
Seeing his hesitation, Orochimaru already guessed what troubled him. The anticipation in his eyes intensified. What kind of hidden ace could produce such a record?
After a brief moment of deliberation, Gekkō Ren made his decision.
He drew a kunai and slashed it across his own forearm.
"Ren, what are you doing?" Minato stepped forward instinctively, alarmed at the self-inflicted injury.
"Minato-kun," Orochimaru said with a smile, stopping him. "Ren is demonstrating for us."
His eyes gleamed with eager curiosity as he watched closely.