Konoha, because of me, has no place for Danzo.

"So, what is your answer?" Orochimaru's lips curled into a clear smile, his expression both insidious and sincere. His gaze on Shisui was that of a predator eyeing a willing sacrifice stepping into a serpent's maw.

Deception? Coercion?

Such base tactics were beneath him. All he needed to do was lay the facts before Shisui, and the boy would make his own choice.

And this choice had long been predetermined, stemming solely from Shisui's own will.

It was far more effective to have a man yield to his own convictions than to force him to another's.

He wished to protect the village and his clan; when he could not have both, he hesitated, torn between two loyalties. Yet, if a path appeared before him that promised to save them both, he would walk it more resolutely than anyone else.

The Lamp Genie had described Shisui with a single word—"saint." A fitting description, indeed.

Orochimaru licked his lips. He had always disliked such people, especially those among them with great power. They cared nothing for personal gain, and though they possessed immense value, they were difficult to cooperate with. Even striving for their lofty ideals was a tedious and thankless task.

But the Lamp Genie had given him a new perspective. For the sake of the collective, these idealists would act tirelessly, even at no cost to themselves. So, if one could disguise or entwine one's own interests with those of the group, perhaps the price to be paid would be lessened.

Orochimaru couldn't help but marvel—what a black-hearted merchant, a filthy parasite! Yet, undeniably, it was useful.

A few light words, "for the village" or "for the clan," could bind even a Mangekyō Sharingan wielder to unwavering devotion.

How terrifying!

If not for this, in the event of conflict, Shisui might have left the village to start anew at any moment, wasting untold time and effort.

The more Orochimaru contemplated this, the more he found himself detesting Danzo.

A parasite—Konoha could not tolerate another.

Beneath Orochimaru’s ‘sincere’ words, the last remnant of Shisui’s inner turmoil faded away. Once freed from emotional interference, Shisui considered the situation calmly and shook his head at Orochimaru. "Lord Orochimaru, I am no match for the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki. Even the Two-Tails Jinchuriki—if I fought with all I have, I could only delay her for a short while."

This was not an excuse, but a lucid assessment made after experiencing Yugito Ni’s Tailed Beast transformation. At fourteen, his body was not yet fully developed, let alone the strain his Mangekyō Sharingan’s genjutsu placed on his constitution.

Thinking further, Shisui spoke again. "If we were able to capture the Two-Tails Jinchuriki alive, perhaps my eye technique could be of use." He described the powers of his Mangekyō ability, Kotoamatsukami, watching Orochimaru’s expression. Seeing that sly smile unchanged, Shisui felt a measure of relief.

Kotoamatsukami could "permanently and completely alter a person's will," a power out of legend itself—no one would not fear it. Shisui took Orochimaru’s reaction as trust, and was deeply moved.

"Capturing the Two-Tails Jinchuriki alive is an endeavor of the highest difficulty," Orochimaru denied the idea without hesitation.

What a joke—using that technique required over a decade to recharge; such an expenditure was never in his plans. Fearing Shisui might act on his own, Orochimaru added, "The price for using your eye technique is too steep. Do not attempt it carelessly in combat, especially against a Jinchuriki. Their chakra is mingled with the Tailed Beast’s, and the risk of failure is too great."

This had been Shisui’s initial concern as well, which was why he had suggested capturing the Jinchuriki alive.

But with that option dismissed, and unable to withstand the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki himself, Shisui found no solution. He turned hopefully to Orochimaru, seeking some alternative.

Unless absolutely necessary, Shisui did not wish to see his kin suffer great losses.

"I have long considered the gap between your strength and the Two-Tails Jinchuriki’s," Orochimaru said, retrieving a vial of pale green serum from a scroll and handing it to Shisui.

This was the Yamato-brand gene serum—though called a gene serum, it was more aptly named a cellular formula. In essence, it was a fusion compound that would replicate and enhance the host’s cells, strengthening the body at the foundational level.

Its effects were satisfactory, but the cost was high. Counting even the failed batches, each vial averaged ten million ryo.

For comparison, the bounty on a Konoha elite jonin on the black market was barely over thirty million ryo.

This single vial was worth a third of a jonin’s life.

But for those with value, Orochimaru was never stingy with money.

"Drink it—it will strengthen your body," Orochimaru said with a smile.

Shisui pulled the stopper without hesitation and drank the serum, unable to imagine any reason why Orochimaru would wish him harm.

He collapsed instantly, wracked by spasms and convulsions, clutching his throat and suppressing his screams.

"Tsk tsk, that reaction… It seems his gains will surpass my own," Orochimaru mused. Though his misgivings had faded, the sight still gave him pause.

Even with the same concoction, one’s bloodline made a difference in the outcome.

Shaking off these thoughts, Orochimaru refocused his mind on the developing situation.

Now, everything was proceeding smoothly—only the right moment remained.

…

The next day, at dusk.

The fortress, whose defensive barriers had only been completed a day ago, was now entirely abandoned by Orochimaru and the Konoha ninja forces he led. In their place, a fresh team of reinforcements had taken up station.

The two Hokage advisors, Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado, exchanged glances before turning their eyes to the direction where Orochimaru and his party had disappeared.

"Orochimaru is far too reckless," Koharu muttered, recalling how he had practically tossed the fortress to them like a piece of trash. Her brows furrowed anew.

Personal feelings aside, she could not approve of Orochimaru’s methods. They had already succeeded in establishing a foothold. The prudent course was to consolidate their gains and slowly push the Cloud out of the Land of Fire. To gamble everything on a single strike was asking for disaster—success or failure, the losses would be immense, and failure could collapse the entire front, costing them their hard-won position.

It was unmistakably the inferior plan.

Yet Orochimaru acted unilaterally, ignoring her advice even after she had humbled herself to offer it. His subordinates behaved as if drugged, slavishly obedient to his every command.

Homura made no response to her complaints. Instead, he gazed at the sinking sun and lit a cigarette.

Koharu, frowning, demanded, "You mean you support Orochimaru’s methods?"

"No, I never said that," Homura replied, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I merely wonder—using our approach, could we have reestablished a base along the border in a single night?"

Koharu was at a loss for words.

"Orochimaru accomplished it. That proves he is stronger than we are," Homura went on, flicking away his cigarette. "Of course, should he fail, I will not be lenient. I’ll join Hiruzen in stripping him of command."

With that, Homura cast his gaze toward the forest, which was now being swallowed by gathering shadows.

There was one thing he left unsaid: Konoha could not afford a war of attrition.

Root was holding Iwagakure at bay, and Jiraiya was stationed at the Wind Country border, but the Water Country front had been abandoned.

Though Kirigakure was embroiled in turmoil, there was no telling when that chaos might end.

Konoha simply could not afford to wait.