[Note: Hey guys, I am doing this mass release for some reason (don't ask). But if you appreciate it, throw me stones, atleast for some time. I want to push this one.]
Chapter 146 – Let's Just Call It Rasengan
"Holy—!"
Yōhei and Kizuna blurted out in unison.
Saori clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.
Hizashi had already activated his Byakugan, trying to dissect exactly what had just happened.
Only Minato seemed to grasp it instantly.
His eyes lit up.
"So that's it! That's it! Taichi, you're a genius!"
Without hesitation, he raised his right hand and began gathering chakra again.
The initial stage went smoothly—a sphere of chakra formed in his palm.
But once he attempted to alter the internal flow—
The difficulty became obvious.
The sphere twisted violently, threatening to collapse at any moment.
Yet under Minato's precise control, it slowly stabilized again.
It wasn't that Minato's chakra control matched Taichi's.
Rather, his immense mental strength compensated for the difference, allowing him to force stability through sheer focus.
After repeated attempts—
The sphere finally settled.
A soft, deep hum emanated from the pale blue chakra ball.
Everyone held their breath.
Minato stepped toward another large tree.
He pressed the sphere forward.
"Shhk."
The chakra sphere pierced into the trunk.
A split second later—
"BOOM!"
The tree exploded from within, a large section reduced to fine powder.
"It worked!" Saori cried out in excitement.
The others rushed forward to congratulate him.
Minato smiled brightly—but immediately shook his head.
"Taichi, thank you. Without your insight, this technique wouldn't have been completed so quickly."
Taichi waved it off modestly.
"Minato-senpai, you were already almost there. You just needed a bit of inspiration."
Truthfully, Taichi hadn't expected it to succeed so smoothly either.
It seemed he had underestimated just how powerful Chakra Control Level 11 truly was.
Minato didn't argue further.
He would remember this favor.
After all—they were comrades.
"Taichi," Minato suddenly said, eyes gleaming, "why don't you name it? Something cool. Flashy. Earth-shattering!"
He struck a dramatic pose.
"How about… 'Super Ultra Radiant Rotating Taichi-Inspired Sphere'?"
Silence.
Complete silence.
Everyone stared at him.
Taichi nearly choked.
Why was his name even in it?!
Before Minato's naming instincts spiraled further into catastrophe, Taichi decisively cut in:
"Rasengan."
Minato blinked.
"Huh?"
"I said… Rasengan."
A beat.
Then—
"Good!"
"Much better!"
"Yeah, that works!"
Everyone agreed immediately.
Anything was better than Super Ultra Radiant Rotating Taichi-Inspired Sphere.
And honestly—
Rasengan sounded perfect.
Thus—
In this moment—
Only Minato suffered emotional damage.
He muttered quietly to himself:
"What's wrong with my name? I think it sounds great…"
---
The joking atmosphere eased the tension.
They sat back down around the fire.
This time, the conversation shifted fully toward ninjutsu theory—combat dilemmas, practical refinements, technical bottlenecks.
With Minato and Hizashi present, the younger members eagerly asked questions.
Both senior jōnin answered generously.
It was a rare and valuable night.
The next morning—
After proper rest—
The squad resumed their journey to the frontline camp.
By noon, they arrived.
After rigorous identity verification, they were finally granted entry.
Awaiting them inside—
The frontline commander.
Orochimaru.
He had arrived only two days prior and had just taken over camp command.
Even now, he appeared deeply occupied.
The previous state of Konoha's northern camp had been… poor.
The former commander was merely an elderly ninja with sufficient seniority—nothing more. Leadership ability? Lacking.
In peacetime, that didn't matter. Routine management and task allocation were enough.
But now?
His incompetence had thrown the entire frontline camp into chaos.
Soldiers didn't know their commanders.
Commanders didn't know their soldiers.
Orders overlapped. Supplies misallocated.
It was a mess.
Only after Orochimaru's arrival had order begun to return.
---
Orochimaru idly toyed with the recovered deployment map, his gaze drifting toward the six before him.
There was undisguised hunger in his eyes.
Minato Namikaze. Hizashi Hyūga. Established elites.
And Taichi's squad—their reputation from the southern border had reached even here.
Especially Matsushita Taichi.
How had he not seen it before?
Such talent.
Such potential.
"Minato," Orochimaru said lightly, "since your squad is here, remain a while. We are short on manpower."
Minato hesitated.
"Orochimaru-sama… we are required to return to the village and report—"
"Your mission ended the moment the map reached me," Orochimaru cut in smoothly. "And I won't keep you long. I'll assign official tasks through proper channels."
Minato glanced at Hizashi and Taichi.
Neither objected.
He nodded.
Orochimaru smiled faintly.
Perfect.
---
Assignments were given immediately.
Minato and Hizashi—sent to the front to sabotage Kumogakure supply lines.
Yōhei, Saori, and Kizuna—assigned patrol duty along the border.
As for Taichi—
Orochimaru kept him behind.
Placed directly into the medical camp.
His reasoning was simple:
"The frontline does not lack one more jōnin-level combatant. The rear, however, desperately needs an exceptional medical ninja."
Because of the former commander's negligence, most medical personnel had been reassigned south to fight Sunagakure.
The northern front was critically understaffed.
And when Orochimaru personally led Taichi into the medical camp—
The reason became horrifyingly clear.
The camp was overflowing.
And this wasn't even full-scale war yet.
These were only pre-war skirmishes.
Yet injured shinobi filled every available space.
Lightly wounded were given rough bandaging and sent out immediately to make room for the severely injured.
Taichi's voice trembled.
"Orochimaru-sama… how could this happen? Konoha's medical system shouldn't be this inadequate…"
"One incompetent general," Orochimaru said quietly, "burdens ten thousand soldiers. The previous commander concealed the true situation. He has been sent back to Konoha for judgment."
"Damn it…" Taichi muttered. "Who approved someone like that?"
Orochimaru watched him with interest.
Then spoke calmly:
"He was a veteran jōnin of the Sarutobi clan. Same generation as the Third Hokage."
Silence.
Not fear.
Just exhaustion.
Taichi said nothing more.
Instead, he created two shadow clones and walked into the medical camp.
---
Many of the medical-nin had worked at Konoha Hospital.
They knew him.
"Taichi, you're here?!"
"With you here, we can finally breathe!"
Orochimaru observed carefully.
Taichi already possessed influence in Konoha's medical system far beyond his age.
The clones moved to treat lightly injured patients.
Green light from Mystical Palm flickered constantly.
Diagnosis to treatment—
Only minutes.
Orochimaru's eyes sharpened.
This level of medical proficiency—
Already rivaled Tsunade.
Perhaps even surpassed her in pure healing efficiency.
His gaze turned predatory.
---
Nearby, Taichi's main body approached a critical patient.
The attending medic immediately stepped aside.
Chakra scalpel formed in Taichi's hand.
A swift cut removed the damaged clothing.
Left chest—radiating burn marks.
Lightning Release injury.
He extended chakra into the chest cavity.
Ventricular fibrillation.
Another few minutes—
Dead.
No equipment available.
No time.
Taichi moved instantly.
Left hand glowing intensely green—pressed against the abdomen, stabilizing life force.
The vitality radiating from him was so potent even Orochimaru could feel it from afar.
Right hand hovered over the heart.
He timed it.
Waited.
Then—
Gripped.
A flash of lightning.
The patient convulsed.
Heartbeat stabilized.
The worst crisis passed.
The remaining burns were manageable.
Orochimaru withdrew silently.
His mind roared.
Simultaneous dual-nature chakra manipulation.
Precise timing.
Absolute control.
Even he could not replicate that.
This wasn't merely Tsunade's teaching.
This was surpassing the master.
Had Sarutobi's intelligence reports been this outdated?
Back in his tent, Orochimaru reflected.
Taichi's combat strength aside—
This medical ability alone was worth more than several jōnin combined.
How to keep him here?
Ordinary methods wouldn't work.
No deep personal bond.
Hard to compete with Jiraiya.
Troublesome.
He sighed and returned to paperwork.
---
Within days, the camp transformed.
Six additional shinobi.
Four of them jōnin-level.
High-difficulty missions cleared.
Medical backlog reduced.
Manpower freed.
Morale rising.
By the third day—
Taichi finally stepped out of the medical camp.
The chaos had subsided.
And though he held no official rank—
Everyone now greeted him respectfully:
"Taichi-sama."
---
That afternoon, Taichi entered Orochimaru's tent with a long list.
"These are the medical devices we currently lack. With them, even lightly trained personnel could perform emergency procedures. Please request them from the village."
Orochimaru scanned the list.
Over a hundred items.
He smirked faintly.
"Very well. Since you've requested them, I will ensure they arrive with the next supply shipment."
Taichi was momentarily stunned.
He had prioritized the list carefully, expecting negotiation.
Instead—
Immediate approval.
For a brief moment—
He felt genuine gratitude.
Orochimaru truly did possess his own kind of charisma.
No wonder even after defecting, people still followed him.
Encouraged, Taichi pressed on.
"Since the medical camp is stabilized, I would like to rejoin my squad for missions."
Orochimaru paused.
He didn't want Taichi exposed to danger.
Too valuable.
But—
Taichi's combat ability was no rumor.
"Very well," Orochimaru agreed. "But if the medical camp requires assistance, you will return immediately."
"Understood."
Taichi left, eager to reunite with his team.
---
Alone in the tent—
Orochimaru pulled up the squad's recent mission reports.
A slow smile curved his lips.
"A chūnin squad with such strength… fascinating."
Three-Tomoe Sharingan Uchiha.
Seal-specialist Saori.
And then—
Kizuna Kazewata.
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed.
He retrieved the earlier pursuit report.
Kizuna's performance had been… poor.
A familiar scent drifted through the pages.
Conspiracy.
Manipulation.
Orochimaru's lips curled slightly.
In the empty tent, a low chuckle echoed.
"Hehehe…"