Death was only a transition—what returned was something far more dangerous.
The kunoichi had long black hair, a delicate oval face, and eyes that curved slightly at the corners.
She was tall.
Her figure—perfectly proportioned.
Snow-white legs peeked through the slit of her light yellow robe, half-hidden, half-revealed.
And what stood out the most—
was her full, pronounced chest.
Following Orochimaru's instructions, Kamizuki Gen placed him onto the operating table.
Orochimaru turned his head with difficulty, scanning the three subordinates he had carefully selected.
His voice was strained.
"Within one minute… decide who will carry my soul."
Gen frowned slightly.
As expected—
Orochimaru had been forced to use Living Corpse Reincarnation ahead of schedule.
At those words—
the three candidates revealed near-mad expressions.
They instantly distanced themselves.
"Orochimaru-sama! I'll prove I'm worthy to be your vessel!!!"
The wide-foreheaded kunoichi roared, eyes burning with fanaticism.
"You wish!"
The Grass rogue laughed wildly.
"I am the best choice!!"
The last kunoichi—the beautiful one—smiled faintly.
"Did either of you ask for my permission? I'm the one Orochimaru-sama favors most."
At the same time—
curse marks flared across their necks.
An eerie orange-red glow.
Their auras shifted.
"…."
Gen was speechless.
They were… eager to die?
Becoming a vessel meant having your soul erased.
Devoured.
This—
was Orochimaru's true horror.
Even suppressed by Gen—
to ordinary shinobi, he was still an S-rank nightmare.
Absolute control.
Absolute manipulation.
Just like Kimimaro in the future—
these people had already lost themselves.
To them—
this was an honor.
Still—
the outcome was obvious.
Without interference—
the wide-foreheaded kunoichi would win.
Just as they prepared to fight—
Gen raised his hand.
Pointed.
At the beautiful one.
"No need to compete. You."
Silence.
All eyes turned to him.
Even Orochimaru paused.
Why intervene?
"Why?!" the Grass rogue snarled, eyes bloodshot.
The curse mark spread.
Killing intent surged.
"And who are you?!" the other kunoichi shouted.
Meanwhile—
the chosen woman's face lit up.
Relief.
Gratitude.
Clearly—
they didn't recognize Gen.
"Cough… cough…"
Orochimaru forced his voice louder.
"Did you not hear him? There's no need to compete."
"No! I am the strongest—you should choose me!"
The wide-foreheaded kunoichi lunged forward—
kunai in hand.
At the same time—
the Grass ninja began forming seals.
"Stop!"
Orochimaru felt a headache coming.
"…Heh."
Gen sighed.
He spared them—
and this was the result?
Fine.
Snap—
his fingers flicked.
"Ninjutsu—Corrosion."
"AAAAHHH!!!"
Screams tore through the room.
Black-purple mist had already enveloped their lower bodies.
In an instant—
they began dissolving.
Like flesh under molten lava.
"What… what is this?!"
The remaining kunoichi staggered back.
Even her curse mark trembled.
She pressed against the wall—
watching as both companions—
collapsed into sludge.
She had seen poison users.
Many.
But this—
silent.
Instant.
Absolute.
Even Orochimaru's own techniques—
didn't compare.
What she didn't know—
was that Orochimaru himself had nearly died to this.
Even his white serpent form couldn't resist it.
For these two—
death was immediate.
Of course—
that single attack consumed nearly one-tenth of Gen's stored toxins.
Far more than needed.
But—
Gen was kind.
He didn't like prolonged suffering.
"Sorry, sorry," he said lightly.
"Used a bit too much."
"…."
Orochimaru closed his eyes.
Helpless.
Then spoke hoarsely.
"You… come here."
"Yes, Orochimaru-sama!"
The remaining kunoichi stepped forward.
Her face—
almost glowing with joy.
Chosen.
By fate itself.
As she approached—
she bowed respectfully to Gen.
"Thank you."
Gen said nothing.
He simply patted Orochimaru's shoulder—
and left the operating room.
As he passed—
the remains had already melted into dark sludge.
He could reclaim the toxin.
But—
too much effort.
He stepped into the lounge.
Sat down.
Waited.
…
Half an hour later—
Gen, half-asleep, sensed movement.
A familiar presence.
Slender.
Curved.
He opened his eyes.
The woman stood before him.
The same body.
But now—
Orochimaru.
"Snake-san… done already?"
Gen looked her over.
The woman brushed her hair behind her ear.
Smiled softly.
"Yes. The technique succeeded… though recovery will take time."
Her voice—
low.
Smooth.
Dangerous.
"If you're interested in this technique, Gen-kun…"
"I can give you the scroll."
The tone lingered.
Soft.
Almost intimate.
It sent a chill down Gen's spine.
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