The tunnel was deep.
Moist stone walls glimmered with a cold sheen in the dim light, and the air was thick with a blend of disinfectant and wet earth.
Orochimaru and Tsunade walked in silence, one ahead of the other, their footsteps echoing through the hollow underground passageways.
Orochimaru's attention wasn't on the route at all.
Her golden slit pupils were locked onto the floating group-chat screen in front of her—visible only to her—where a "Stringweb Commission" shared by Tsunade through the Shinobi World chat sub-group hovered in the air.
[Commission Title: The Konoha Crush Plan]Commissioner: Orochimaru
Commission Summary: Assist Orochimaru in cooperating with Sunagakure to destroy Konoha and blow a wind of reform through the shinobi world.
Current Mission Stages:
Assist Orochimaru in assassinating Sunagakure's Fourth Kazekage. (Completed / Not participated)
Assist Sunagakure in releasing the One-Tail Jinchuriki, Shukaku, during the Konoha Chunin Exams. (In progress)
Assist Orochimaru in impersonating the Fourth Kazekage and killing the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. (Not started)
Assist Sunagakure in destroying Konoha. (Not started)
Trigger systemic reform across the shinobi world. (Not started)
Interested "string-crafters" or agents may go to the Sound Village to find Orochimaru to accept the commission, or provide covert assistance.
Staring at the disturbingly accurate intelligence, a wave of feverish delight swept over Orochimaru's pale face.
Her lips pulled into a twisted, satisfied smile.
"Heh… conjuring something from nothing, seeing through the heart… power at the level of rules…" Her hoarse voice carried through the tunnel. "No wonder this is a cross-world, concept-extracted product."
This commission wasn't merely "close" to her plans.
It was a perfect replication—down to the finest detail—of the blueprint hidden in the deepest layer of her mind.
Behind her, Tsunade walked with steady steps, arms folded under her chest, lifting it slightly as she moved.
She had only recently returned from Mashu's world after grasping Reenactment, and when she casually refreshed the Stringweb list, she'd discovered this plot targeting Konoha.
She hadn't hesitated.
Leaving Shizuka somewhere safe, she came alone—fast.
Then, using the Wood Release she'd obtained by reenacting the "bloodburst" method, she crashed down on the Sound Village like a thunderbolt.
The fight had been clean.
Wood Release roots seized the entire facility in an instant—binding every resistor, siphoning their chakra dry, locking them in place—without drawing a single drop of blood.
A perfect avoidance of her hemophobia.
Of course, even if blood had been unavoidable, she had a backup: the Willpower Glasses sat right there in the group shop, capable of suppressing her hemophobia temporarily.
But she didn't need it today.
In a very short span, Orochimaru had already witnessed the power of four group items firsthand:
The "Word-Spirit Stockings," able to seize control of subordinates with a few casual sentences.
The "Stringweb Commission," generating detailed intel from thin air—accurate enough to startle even Orochimaru herself.
The "Possibility Clone," which had given Tsunade the research substrate that led to bloodburst.
And the Shinobi World chat sub-group itself—the contract foundation behind all items, complete with built-in memory erasure to prevent leakage.
Only two items remained untested directly: the Willpower Glasses and the Omen Premonition.
Orochimaru had little interest in the Willpower Glasses.
In the shinobi world, chakra was the core of power. Willpower wasn't the foundation of the system the way it was in certain other worlds.
Besides, she considered her own will ironclad.
"Tsunade."
Her hoarse voice broke the tunnel's silence.
"Let me try the Omen Premonition. Maybe I can develop a specialized sensory ninjutsu from it."
Her snake pupils turned toward the blonde woman behind her, glittering with a researcher's excitement.
Tsunade responded with a gigantic eye-roll, her voice loud and blunt with undisguised disdain.
"Seriously? You've seen the Stringweb Commission—did you develop some 'intel generation' sensory technique? You've seen the Word-Spirit Stockings—did you reinvent mind control genjutsu? Don't sell me that."
She yanked an arm free and waved it off impatiently.
Her chest bounced a couple of times with the motion.
"Stop messing around. Lead me to the control room."
Orochimaru shrugged, fabric whispering.
She didn't push it further and turned back to guide the way.
The tunnel seemed endless.
The so-called Sound Village was, in truth, a massive underground prison built to satisfy Orochimaru's forbidden research.
On the surface, there was only a hidden entrance.
Below, in this sprawling subterranean complex, hundreds of captives—collected from across the shinobi world—were confined.
Until Tsunade arrived.
A flood of Wood Release roots had seized everything in moments, binding all "villagers" like livestock awaiting slaughter and draining every last trace of chakra.
Resistance?
Before the reenacted power of the God of Shinobi's Wood Release, it was nothing but a mantis raising its arms to stop a cart.
Now, with Orochimaru having joined Tsunade's side, Tsunade lifted the restraints.
Most of the former test subjects remained curled in corners, numb or empty-eyed, staring into cold walls. The air was still heavy with despair—and a strange, disbelieving sense of surviving.
After several minutes, they reached the Sound Village's core:
The central control room.
It was brightly lit.
A massive wall of monitors was divided into countless feeds showing the prison's interior in real time, cold blue light washing over metal and machinery.
Kabuto Yakushi sat at the main console, fingers moving rapidly across an utterly non-ergonomic keyboard, maintaining the facility's operation.
His signature round glasses reflected the screens' glow, and the polite, professional smile never left his face.
When he saw Tsunade and Orochimaru enter, he stopped immediately, stood, and bowed slightly—perfectly composed.
"Tsunade-sama. Orochimaru-sama."
Orochimaru studied her former right-hand man with interest, tongue sliding unconsciously across her lips, as if appraising a curious specimen.
"Kabuto," she said, low and amused. "Right now, whose orders do you truly follow? Would you betray me?"
Kabuto's smile didn't change. His eyes were calm as a deep pool.
"Tsunade-sama used genjutsu to give me the instruction to maintain the Sound Village's normal operation. Although the instruction did not precisely define the boundaries of 'normal operation'…"
He pushed up his glasses. The reflected glare hid his eyes completely.
"…I can clearly perceive that what Tsunade-sama means by 'normal' absolutely does not include human experimentation or lethal combat involving lives."
"Therefore, if Orochimaru-sama intends to restart such projects, I will act according to Tsunade-sama's will and do everything I can to obstruct and resist."
He paused, then returned to an even, steady tone.
"Otherwise, I remain your loyal assistant and will obey your directives."
Orochimaru smiled—genuinely pleased.
"Excellent."
Her praise carried a hint of fascination.
"This control effect is flexible—neither rigid nor mechanical. A vague order, yet the executor interprets the core intent precisely… is that the power of rules?"
She let out a soft, satisfied breath.
"Delicious…"
Tsunade arched a brow.
Back when she used the Word-Spirit Stockings to control Kabuto, she had issued only a broad instruction—keep the place running.
But deep inside, her desire to stop the atrocities and reduce casualties had been intense.
It seemed the Word-Spirit could perfectly capture and translate the user's deeper will.
Tsunade turned to the monitors.
The freed "villagers" mostly sat or lay numbly in their cells. There was no riot, no chaos.
Orochimaru's gaze swept over the screens as well.
The "materials" she once considered priceless had already lost most of their appeal.
She turned to Tsunade.
"So. Tsunade. What will you do with these materials?"
Her tone was as flat as if discussing scrap equipment.
Tsunade's eyes sharpened, carrying the cold clarity of a medical-nin's judgment.
"All experiments are suspended."
Her voice was absolute.
"Your methods are too crude. Too wasteful. Life is not disposable."
As the woman who built medical systems and lived through countless trials, Tsunade wasn't someone who rejected human research outright.
But Orochimaru's habit of treating human beings as dirt crossed her line.
Tsunade had seen mountains of corpses. Death itself didn't shock her.
But precisely because she knew what death cost, she despised the casual luxury of throwing life away for nothing.
"When the technology is more mature—and more humane—we can revisit your research."
"Until then…"
She paused.
"Let them live as real shinobi. The Sound Village can operate like an actual village—take missions, earn pay, support itself."
Change had to be eaten one bite at a time.
Until the shinobi system could be overturned, letting them stand on their own was better than leaving them in cages to rot—or be dissected.
Orochimaru gave an indifferent "hm," accepting it for now.
She still held an obsession with curse mark research, but Tsunade wasn't wrong.
Her older methods were inefficient—violent and full of randomness.
If Tsunade truly stirred the stagnant shinobi world into creative explosion—if foundational science erupted—
Then Orochimaru's future research path would be broader, cleaner, and far deeper.
Sharpening the blade first wasn't a waste of effort.
And the crude brutality of the past… had been, in part, a product of the world itself.
In a world where people only knew how to farm or kill, who would ever devote themselves to real research?
Orochimaru had been cornered by the environment, too.
In a handful of sentences, the Sound Village's future was decided.
"Then…" Orochimaru spoke again, golden pupils fixed on Tsunade. "How do you plan to unleash this reform storm? What do you need me to do?"
Her fingers rubbed together, anticipation creeping into the gesture.
Tsunade's answer was startlingly brief.
"Wait."
"Wait?" Orochimaru froze, head tilting slightly—an unconscious tell of genuine surprise.
"Yes. Wait."
Tsunade turned to face her.
"Just as I'm the group leader of this Shinobi World sub-group… the main group I belong to—one that can cross worlds—also has a group leader."
She paused, and her voice carried unmistakable reverence.
"His power… is beyond imagination. He can make an entire world's timeline rewind."
Time rewind.
The words struck Orochimaru like a hammer.
Tsunade then explained—using the simplest language she could—the method Aisen used: burning the future and the present of a world to force the timeline back, and how "anchors" existed at a higher-dimensional level that such brute rewinds could not cross.
What she needed was Aisen personally confirming the limit: how far back her world could be rewound before it hit an anchor.
Orochimaru listened quietly, eyelids lowering to cover her snake pupils.
With her intelligence, she grasped the essence immediately: the terror of such power—and its limits.
But then a thought slipped into her mind like a blade:
What if the rewind point could reach the time when Dan was still alive?
No matter what Tsunade truly felt toward Dan now, his death—and Nawaki's—were clearly the direct ignition for her desire to reform the shinobi world.
If time could rewind to when Dan still lived…
Then would Tsunade still be this sharp-edged, iron-willed woman with world-upending ambition?
Would she still insist on reform?
Would her "great resolve," forged from grief and guilt, melt away the moment she met him again?
Orochimaru couldn't be sure.
The heart was the most complex thing in existence.
And the most maddening part for Orochimaru was this:
In the face of a power that touched the world itself—under the hand of a leader who could pluck at time—
What could she do?
Her ninjutsu, her intellect, her ambition… all became dust.
She wasn't even qualified to be a player.
At best, she was a slightly unusual piece on the board.
A faint distortion tugged at the corner of Orochimaru's mouth.
Not her usual predatory smile—something uglier.
The frustration of being excluded from the game entirely.
She suppressed it.
And deep in her heart, a dark, instinctive prayer surfaced:
Please… let the rewind limit not reach a point before that man's death.
Time slipped by in silence.
Then Tsunade's body twitched—barely.
She'd received a notification: Aisen had @everyone.
[Group Leader (Aisen): @everyone — Anyone here need management talent and research talent?]
[Purple Sweet Potato (Kafka): No thanks.]
Somewhere on a Star-Hunter ship, Kafka lounged in a steaming bath, water sliding down pale skin. With a lazy flick, she tapped a reply on the floating screen, closed it, and went back to enjoying the quiet.
[Athletic Lunchbox (Rin): Wait, wait, wait! Are we running some kind of inter-world human trafficking?!]
A beat later, Rin seemed to realize something.
[Athletic Lunchbox (Rin): Hold up—something's off. I remember the cross-world transfer rules: you can't bring sapient life across worlds! How are you doing it? Are you cheating?!]
Aisen's explanation appeared immediately.
[Group Leader (Aisen): Great question. Those two are natives of Kafka's universe. The key is that Kafka's universe has an extremely high ceiling—high enough for me to unfold a complete inner universe. I can temporarily store them inside it. When I reach the destination world, I can—at minimum—collapse the inner universe and release them safely.]
[Group Leader (Aisen): But this method has big limitations. It only works in ultra-high-ceiling worlds like Kafka's. I'm not sure about Tsunade's world yet. As for my own world, Mashu's, and yours, Rin—none of them can support me creating a complete inner universe to carry people out. So if I bring them to your worlds, then for a long time, unless you raise your world's ceiling rapidly, I won't be able to take them onward to a third world.]
A few quick messages of understanding scrolled by.
[Roasted Eggplant (Mashu): Ah, I see! Understood. But no need to trouble yourself with Chaldea—there are only about seventy of us. Dr. Romani can manage it all alone. And even if he can't, we've got Da Vinci. And… uh… the Director, who's a spirit now but has doubled her nagging.]
[Classic Lunchbox (Sakiko): Management talent? Are they corporate management? Can they help with band operations, business partnerships, financial planning? Please?]
Aisen glanced aside at Cocolia waiting nearby.
[Group Leader (Aisen): Uh… business management? She's more specialized in large-organization governance. Like… running a country? Or a civilization?]
[Classic Lunchbox (Sakiko): A country?! A civilization?! Never mind! Absolutely not!]
At that moment, Tsunade's eyes exploded with light.
This was perfect.
Neither she nor Orochimaru was suited to organization-building or daily governance.
Even with Word-Spirit Stockings forcing orders to be executed, did that guarantee the shinobi world would run well and move toward a healthy future?
She didn't kid herself.
This "large-organization management talent" Aisen mentioned was exactly what she needed most.
[Giant Daifuku (Tsunade): Group Leader! Here! I need them! I need both of those talents badly!]
[Group Leader (Aisen): Honestly, I ran through the member list in my head, and you were the only one who really fit. But I still needed to ask everyone, right? If you're free, I'll transfer over now.]
[Giant Daifuku (Tsunade): Free! No urgent situation here. Transfer anytime!]
[Group Leader (Aisen): OK.]
Aisen confirmed Cocolia and Serval were ready, generated a miniature but complete inner universe within himself, and sent them inside.
Then he issued a transfer request to Tsunade.
[System Notice: Group Leader (Aisen) requests transfer to your current world. Accept?]Options: Accept / Reject
Tsunade chose Accept without the slightest hesitation.
An instant later, Aisen appeared on the control room floor.
His eyes swept across the room, over the people present, and stopped on Tsunade—her iconic blonde hair and unmistakable figure matching her profile picture exactly.
He shifted his attention, expression unchanged, toward the tall, pale woman standing nearby—only slightly less striking in curves than Tsunade, but colder, sharper, dangerous.
Behind them stood a silver-haired young man with a gentle smile that felt oddly hollow—like a carefully crafted doll.
"Nice to meet you," Aisen said, breaking the quiet. "I'm Aisen."
"Tsunade," she answered immediately, voice bright and direct.
"Orochimaru," the pale woman replied, that hoarse magnetic timbre paired with golden slit pupils that flickered with pure interest.
"Kabuto Yakushi," the silver-haired man added with a small nod, smile steady, voice flat.
After the brief introductions, Aisen didn't waste time on small talk.
He looked back at Tsunade.
"Give me a moment. I'll check your universe."
Then he closed his eyes.
The instant he arrived, he'd already felt something surprising.
Compared to Kafka's universe, Tsunade's world did not feel more oppressive.
Which meant its ceiling was extremely high—only slightly below Kafka's.
His perception expanded like an invisible tide, flooding the world.
He caught the presence of the apex existence at the top of this cosmos.
A being whose energy level was vast as a star sea—enough to rival an Aeon—burning like a lonely sun at the universe's center.
Unlike Kafka's universe, with multiple Aeons interlocking into a complex balance of rules—
This world's strongest did not appear to be constrained by other equals.
The strongest being's situation did not matter.
Its existence alone proved the world's ceiling.
In Tsunade's world, Aisen could create a complete inner universe just as he did in Kafka's.
In theory, as long as Tsunade wanted it, he could carry people back and forth between Tsunade's world and Kafka's freely.
Having confirmed that, he didn't hesitate.
With a thought, two women appeared beside him—different in aura, equally distinct.
"Let me introduce them," Aisen said.
He gestured to the imposing blonde woman.
"This is Cocolia Rand. She's from Kafka's universe. She was once the highest leader of a surface civilization, with extensive management experience."
Then he gestured toward Tsunade.
"This is Tsunade—my companion. I'm hoping you'll assist her in managing this shinobi world. The details can be discussed between you two."
Tsunade's eyes went wide with joy.
This was the management talent Aisen mentioned.
Someone who had governed an entire civilization—managing the shinobi world would be trivial by comparison.
She strode forward and clasped Cocolia's hand tightly, enthusiasm blazing.
"I don't know what agreement you made with the group leader, but I sincerely thank you for coming to help my world."
Cocolia recovered instantly, posture elegant, and gave a composed nod. Her gaze was honest and steady, voice calm.
"You're too kind, Lady Tsunade. Lord Aisen once gave me and my country tremendous aid. Returning that debt is only right."
Aisen then gestured toward the other woman.
"This is Serval Landau. Same civilization as Cocolia. Her specialty is research and engineering. In her world's technological tier, she's absolutely top-class."
"Top-class research?" Orochimaru's pupils tightened instantly, as if she'd locked onto a treasure.
Someone personally certified by a man who could rewind worlds?
Her value was self-evident.
Orochimaru's tongue flicked over her lips unconsciously, gaze glued to Serval—already assembling a long list of technical subjects to dissect.
Serval felt the stare and raised an eyebrow.
Instead of shrinking back, she smiled—provocative, amused.
The room was briefly cordial.
Then Aisen turned to Cocolia and Serval, tone relaxed.
"This is my first time doing a deep scan of this world. Conclusion: it's extremely strong—only slightly weaker than Kafka's universe."
"If you miss home, or if you need to handle anything in Belobog, tell Tsunade anytime. She'll contact me, and I can bring you back immediately."
Cocolia and Serval exchanged a look.
Both faces flashed with unrestrained relief and delight, and they nodded hard.
But what Aisen said hit Tsunade like a thunderclap.
Over the last few days, she'd learned just how terrifying Kafka's universe was.
Aeons—rules made flesh—each capable of warping galaxies and scattering universe-scale catastrophe.
Living there meant you might be erased along with an entire star system because something cosmic wandered by.
And her world was only "a line" weaker?
The shock froze Tsunade in place.
Her blood seemed to congeal.
A primal chill rushed up her spine, flooding her limbs with cold.
Like an ant suddenly realizing dragons were circling overhead.
The world's true face had opened—brutal and abrupt.
"Group leader!"
Tsunade's voice came out urgent, with a tremor she couldn't fully hide.
"What is going on with our world?!"
Aisen understood her reaction and tried to answer gently.
"Your world is simpler than Kafka's universe…"
He began—then stopped mid-sentence.
His brow tightened.
His gaze, focusing more sharply, pierced through surface appearances.
To his sight, Tsunade's skin and outward body-state were indeed fixed at a youthful peak—smooth, full, elastic, radiating vitality.
But deeper layers told a different story.
Bone carried the weight of age, not a young person's lightness.
Joints held micro-wear—almost imperceptible.
Organs, wrapped in strong life-force, still bore decades of time.
The neural network had the faintest sluggishness.
It was clear: Tsunade was still sustaining internal peak through massive, precise chakra.
Aisen's heart tightened.
He thought she had some hidden injury.
Out of concern, his perception naturally traced the time-thread backward—
And what he saw made him inhale sharply.
Tsunade, in Mashu's world. Under Da Vinci's guidance. Fusing magecraft with chakra—
And creating a monstrous thing called Reenactment.
Aisen blurted, genuinely shaken:
"You—out of nowhere—pulled something this big?!"
Tsunade, still drowning in cosmic panic, stared blankly.
"…Huh?"
Her brown eyes were nothing but confusion.
"What… do you mean?"
Aisen had already visited Mashu's world and understood what magecraft truly was at its base.
"You combined chakra and magecraft…"
His tone carried real admiration now.
"That's a genius construction. I didn't even consider those two systems could fuse into something with this kind of explosive potential."
Tsunade and Orochimaru exchanged a lightning-fast glance—both confused.
Reenactment was powerful, yes, but full of restrictions. Why did Aisen sound like he'd seen something absurdly game-breaking?
Aisen noticed their lack of understanding and decided to start from bedrock.
"All right. Then we begin with fundamentals."
He adjusted his stance casually.
"Magecraft is a method of using a world's underlying rules. It has the potential to directly connect to the Root."
"The Root?" Tsunade and Orochimaru both seized on the unfamiliar term.
"Yes—the Root," Aisen said. "In Mashu's world, it's the source from which all phenomena flow. The origin of causality, the endpoint of all return—the ultimate place."
Seeing their shock, he continued:
"And in my view, magecraft is essentially a universal wish machine."
"If you feed it enough energy, in theory it can grant any wish—including reaching the Root itself."
Orochimaru cut in quickly, sharp as ever.
"But, sir—based on Tsunade's account, magecraft seems to only reproduce stable phenomena and has many limits. This 'universal' claim sounds… theoretical at best."
Aisen nodded, approving the skepticism.
"You're exactly right. It is theoretical."
"The core obstacle is energy—mana supply."
"In that world, the energy driving magecraft is called mana. It comes from two sources: the individual 'small source,' and the environment's 'greater source.'"
"And mana generated by the small source usually carries strong attribute bias."
He switched to a chakra analogy.
"Like chakra nature transformation—some people are naturally aligned to fire, others to lightning. Mana works similarly."
Both Tsunade and Orochimaru recognized the logic immediately.
"So," Aisen continued, "even though magecraft is, in theory, a universal wish machine, a mage is shackled by their attribute."
"A fire-aligned mage forcing water manipulation pays ten times, a hundred times, the cost of a water-aligned mage. Efficiency collapses."
He paused, then added the harsher reality.
"Also, an individual's small source is limited."
"And even the greater source…"
He gestured to the vast sky and earth.
"…is only the total mana a single planet can generate."
"So even ignoring attribute loss, and even if you drained every mage's life and wrung the planet dry—put all energy into one desperate gamble…"
"It still wouldn't be enough to truly drive magecraft to reach the Root."
Tsunade and Orochimaru fell silent.
The "universal wish" dream looked pathetic against hard energy limits.
Aisen continued, voice calm.
"So mages can only optimize efficiency—endlessly."
"The deeper their understanding of fire's essence, combustion, energy release—the less mana it costs to reproduce the same flame."
"That's their only struggle across millennia."
Tsunade nodded slowly.
The principle matched her own Reenactment usage: the deeper her understanding, the less chakra she wasted.
But she still didn't understand why Aisen had been so stunned.
Aisen caught their thought again.
"Yes. Under that world's rules, magecraft is fundamentally inefficient and capped. Its road to 'universal' is a theoretical dead end."
"But chakra isn't."
He pivoted sharply and asked a deceptively simple question:
"In your eyes—what is chakra?"
Tsunade answered with the standard doctrine.
"A life-energy produced by mixing physical energy and mental energy. I assumed it's basically the same as mana from a small source—just a tool to drive techniques."
Most shinobi would agree.
Orochimaru, however, gave a different answer.
"I've seen ancient records and murals. Chakra… did not originally exist naturally in humans. In the earliest era, it was called Ninshu, and it was distributed to mortals by the Sage of Six Paths—the progenitor of chakra."
Aisen nodded.
"You're both correct."
"Your modern chakra generation truly is the fusion of physical and mental energy."
"But the root reason you can synthesize chakra at all…"
"…is because the Sage of Six Paths planted chakra's seed into your ancestors."
Then Aisen asked the question that even Orochimaru had never truly chased to the end:
"Have you ever considered… tracing further upward?"
"Where did the Sage of Six Paths' chakra… come from?"
Join here to read ahead.
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Checking In in Demon Slayer 59
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 73
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 45
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The Gacha Merchant Who Started 31
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