The thought made Orochimaru feel genuinely sad—a melancholy that sank deep into his chest like a stone dropped into dark water.
He'd gone to such elaborate lengths. Transformed himself into that of a beautiful woman in the cherry blossom kimono. Staged an entire seduction scenario in a hotel room, complete with "twisted ankle" and strategic clothing removal. All of it calculated to make Naruto indebted, to create obligation, to establish a relationship that could be leveraged.
The beauty trap. Classic, time-tested, effective against most male targets.
But Naruto had simply knocked him unconscious and fled.
Which meant, Orochimaru realized with painful clarity, that Naruto truly didn't need him. Didn't want what he was offering. Had no interest in the transaction Orochimaru was proposing.
If you don't need something, you don't have to pay for it, Orochimaru thought bitterly. You don't need to feel psychological burden. You don't need to worry about violating contracts or social obligations.
The person who wants nothing is the most powerful negotiator.
The realization was humbling. Here he was, legendary Sannin, master of forbidden techniques, and he couldn't even successfully seduce a twelve-year-old boy. Not because of any moral virtue on Naruto's part, but simply because Naruto had zero interest in what Orochimaru represented.
So I have to take this opportunity, Orochimaru decided, his strategic mind shifting gears. Use this moment, this opening, to infiltrate Naruto's circle. Get close. Become indispensable. Then, eventually, access to his secrets becomes possible.
It was a long-game strategy. Patient. Subtle. The kind of approach that took years to bear fruit.
But Orochimaru had always been good at playing the long game.
"Naruto-sama's strength is indeed beyond my reach," Orochimaru began, nodding with apparent sincerity. His expression arranged itself into something earnest and humble. "That's undeniable fact. However, don't forget—I, Orochimaru, am recognized as the number one biological researcher in the entire shinobi world."
He let that title hang in the air for a moment, establishing credibility.
"I understand you've purchased a farm. A breeding operation, raising livestock." Orochimaru's voice took on an advisory quality. "I could serve as your biological consultant. Offer expertise on animal husbandry, breeding optimization, disease prevention, nutrition management."
The offer was practical, useful, impossible to dismiss out of hand.
"Additionally," Orochimaru continued, warming to his pitch, "I possess summoning contracts. The creatures I can summon represent rich food resources. Serpents, yes, but also other animals. Fresh meat, on demand, whenever needed."
Naruto's expression remained skeptical, interested but unconvinced.
Orochimaru gritted his teeth. Time to offer terms so favorable that refusal became impossible.
"As long as Naruto-sama allows me to be the farm's biological consultant," he said, the words coming out faster now, almost desperate, "I won't require any salary. No payment whatsoever. And no dividends from farm profits either."
He paused, then delivered the final condition.
"Just provide three meals a day. That's all I ask."
The moment the words left his mouth, Orochimaru felt a pang of regret. That's too much. I'm asking for too much. He'll probably only agree to one of those conditions—either the no-salary part or the three-meals part.
Most likely the latter. He'll want me to work for food alone, with nothing else guaranteed.
The realization was depressing but pragmatic. Orochimaru prepared himself for negotiation, for counter-offers and compromises.
But then Naruto's head bobbed in agreement.
"Alright," Naruto said, his tone decisive. "Since Orochimaru-senpai is being so sincere, I'll accept. You can be the farm's biological consultant. As long as you make the operation bigger and more profitable, I can absolutely promise that three meals will be provided. Full satisfaction guaranteed."
Joy exploded in Orochimaru's chest, sudden and intense.
He agreed! The snake Sannin's mind raced. He actually agreed! I've infiltrated successfully! I'm inside his inner circle now!
True, Naruto had only confirmed the three-meals condition, not addressing the no-salary part. But that didn't matter. What mattered was proximity. Access. The opportunity to observe, to learn, to eventually discover the secrets of Naruto's training method.
Success isn't far away now, Orochimaru thought with barely contained excitement. Just need patience. Time. The chance will come.
His face arranged itself into an expression of genuine happiness—the look of someone who'd found an enlightened master worth serving. The smile wasn't entirely fake, either. Relief and anticipation made it partly authentic.
"Naruto-sama," Orochimaru said with newfound enthusiasm, "all my ninjutsu scrolls, my complete collection of techniques, are stored in Oto Village. I'll send a message immediately. Have everything delivered to you within days."
As he spoke, his hand moved to his robes, producing another scroll from some hidden pocket. The paper was aged but well-preserved, covered in complex sealing formulas.
"Naruto-sama, this is the ninjutsu scroll for Impure World Reincarnation, Edo Tensei," Orochimaru explained, offering the scroll with both hands in a gesture of respect. "This is the technique I used to summon the First and Second Hokage just now. I thought you might want to examine it immediately rather than waiting for the full collection to arrive."
Naruto accepted the scroll with visible pleasure, his expression brightening. "Excellent. Continue transcribing the Living Corpse Reincarnation while I look this over."
"Of course, Naruto-sama."
As Orochimaru returned to his writing, pen scratching across paper, Naruto unrolled the Edo Tensei scroll and began reading.
The technique was complex, layered with multiple sealing formulas and specific requirements. Naruto's eyes tracked across the text rapidly, absorbing information, cross-referencing symbols against knowledge gained from his parents' chakra teachings.
The mechanics became clear quickly. The limitations even more so.
By the time Naruto finished reading—perhaps five minutes of concentrated study—his expression had shifted from interest to disappointment.
This won't work, he realized with sinking certainty. It can't be used to resurrect my parents. Not properly. Not the way I'd want.
The idea had been tempting. While fighting the reanimated Hashirama and Tobirama brothers, seeing them move and react despite being dead, Naruto had briefly entertained hope. Maybe this technique could bring back Minato and Kushina while he worked toward achieving immortality. Give him time with them, even if imperfect time.
But the scroll revealed fundamental problems.
First, the technique required extracting a certain amount of body material from the deceased. Tissue samples, bone fragments, preserved DNA. Without those physical components, reanimation couldn't be completed at all.
Do I even know where my parents are buried? Naruto wondered. Would I be able to obtain samples without causing a scandal in Konoha?
Second—and this was the dealbreaker—the technique needed a living person's body as a vessel for the deceased's soul. A container. A sacrifice.
The reanimated soul would attach to that living body, overwriting the original consciousness, effectively killing the vessel to make room for the summoned spirit.
Absolutely not, Naruto thought firmly, his jaw setting. I won't hurt innocent people to revive my parents. That violates everything they stood for, everything they taught me.
They sacrificed themselves to protect the village. To save people. I won't dishonor that by sacrificing others to bring them back.
Third, the summoned soul had to exist in the Pure Land—the afterlife realm where departed spirits resided. If a soul had been sealed away using techniques like the Reaper Death Seal, it couldn't be summoned at all.
That one's probably fine, Naruto assessed. Unless there's something I don't know about how my parents died.
But there were other issues too. Even if all conditions were met, the reanimated person wouldn't truly be alive. Their soul consciousness would be suppressed, controlled like a puppet. They'd have no true self, no genuine free will.
Just a fighting automaton wearing a familiar face.
That's not resurrection, Naruto concluded grimly. That's desecration. Creating zombies, not restoring life.
The entire technique had been designed for combat applications—creating undead soldiers who obeyed commands without question, who possessed the skills and knowledge of their living selves but none of the autonomy or dignity.
Useless for what I need.
"Sasuke, here." Naruto tossed the scroll toward his friend without ceremony.
Sasuke caught it smoothly, recognizing the dismissal for what it was. If Naruto was passing it along this quickly, the technique hadn't proven useful for his purposes.
But maybe I can find value in it, Sasuke thought, tucking the scroll away. Something to study later.
Meanwhile, Orochimaru had finished transcribing the Living Corpse Reincarnation technique. His pen lifted from the final character, ink still wet and gleaming. He offered the completed document with both hands, head bowed respectfully.
"Naruto-sama, it's ready."
Naruto accepted the pages and began reading immediately, his eyes moving across the text with focused intensity.
The technique's mechanics revealed themselves line by line. How to prepare a target body. How to transfer consciousness. How to overwrite an existing soul with your own. The preservation of memories, skills, chakra patterns. The gradual degradation of stolen bodies over time. The need for periodic replacement.
By the time Naruto finished, his expression had twisted into something uncomfortable. Distaste mixed with judgment, creating a look that made Orochimaru shift nervously.
So this is how Living Corpse Reincarnation works, Naruto thought. Stealing other people's bodies to extend your own lifespan. It's not immortality—it's serial murder dressed up as longevity research.
Each body swap equals taking someone else's life. Wearing their flesh like a suit of clothes. That's horrific.
The technique repulsed him on a fundamental level. Not because of squeamishness about forbidden jutsu—Naruto could appreciate the technical brilliance involved. But because it required victimizing others to sustain yourself.
Parasitic, he judged. Like a tick that drains its host and moves to the next when the first dies.
His gaze shifted to Orochimaru's current body, studying it with new understanding. This wasn't Orochimaru's original form. This was stolen flesh, a body that had once belonged to someone else. Someone who'd been murdered so Orochimaru could continue existing.
The face was feminine, delicate, with features that struck Naruto as inexplicably familiar. He'd definitely seen this face before, but where? The memory lurked just out of reach, frustratingly close but not quite accessible.
Actually, this was the same body Orochimaru had worn during their first encounter in the Forest of Death. The same female form, consistent across multiple meetings.
Why is Orochimaru so keen on occupying bodies of the opposite sex? Naruto wondered with genuine confusion. Is there some advantage to it? Or is this personal preference?
The question felt too invasive to ask directly, so Naruto approached obliquely.
"Orochimaru," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "How many bodies have you stolen using this technique? How many times have you performed Living Corpse Reincarnation?"
Seeing Naruto's obviously displeased expression, feeling the judgment radiating from those blue eyes, Orochimaru's heart skipped a beat.
He's upset about the body-stealing aspect, Orochimaru realized. The moral implications bother him. I need to be honest here—lying will only make things worse.
"This is my second body," Orochimaru admitted quietly. "I've performed the technique once, transferring from my original form to this current vessel."
Second body, Naruto thought, the calculation immediate and damning. Which means one innocent person has already died in his reincarnation cycle. One life stolen to sustain his existence.
The knowledge settled heavily on Naruto's shoulders. He couldn't undo what had already happened, couldn't restore the stolen life. But he could prevent future iterations.
"Orochimaru-san," Naruto said, his voice taking on weight and authority despite his young age. "Since you want to join me, since you're claiming to serve under my command, I have one absolute requirement."
He locked eyes with the snake Sannin, making sure his words landed with full impact.
"Don't ever steal another body. Ever. No more reincarnations. No more hosts. Whatever lifespan this current body has, that's what you get. Understood?"
"Yes, Naruto-sama," Orochimaru replied immediately, bowing his head in apparent submission. "I understand completely and will obey."
But internally, his thoughts ran a different track entirely.
If I successfully research your training method, obtain your secrets of longevity, I won't need Living Corpse Reincarnation anyway, Orochimaru reasoned. Your technique offers true immortality through physical perfection. Why would I continue this inferior body-swapping when I could achieve genuine eternal existence?
And if I don't succeed in stealing your method... well, I still don't want to die. So we'll see how absolute this prohibition really is when I start approaching my limits.
Promises made under duress, Orochimaru had learned long ago, held only as much weight as the power enforcing them.
"Very good," Naruto said with a nod, apparently satisfied by the response.
His attention shifted to a different topic entirely, one that seemed almost absurdly mundane given the context.
"Now then, your ninjutsu techniques will count as compensation. Payment for our travel expenses from Konoha to this location."
Naruto gestured at his own body, indicating the damage.
"And compensation for fighting you, which resulted in destroyed clothing. My jacket burst when I transformed to full Iron Body state. My shoes exploded from the pressure. These items need replacement."
He looked down at himself critically. The jacket was indeed ruined—torn across the shoulders and back where muscle expansion had exceeded fabric tolerance. His feet were bare, shoes having disintegrated during the battle.
"So your techniques cover those costs. Fair exchange."
Hearing this declared compensation structure, Orochimaru couldn't help it—his mouth twitched involuntarily.
This is incredibly petty, he thought with a mixture of disbelief and grudging admiration. He's billing me for clothing damage. For shoes. The legendary techniques I'm providing, knowledge worth millions, are being valued equivalent to travel expenses and a destroyed outfit.
No wonder he immediately agreed when I said I didn't need salary. He's planning to run his farm with minimal labor costs regardless.
In truth, Orochimaru was thinking too poorly of Naruto. The farm did have employees—three of them, actually—and Naruto did pay them. Shikamaru received regular wages plus bonuses for good management. Zabuza and Haku earned food and shelter plus modest stipends.
But the farm's income was tight. Operating costs consumed most revenue. The Engel coefficient—the percentage of income spent on food—approached one hundred percent. Naruto's appetite alone devoured profits at an alarming rate.
Given those constraints, Naruto genuinely couldn't afford to reduce labor costs. He paid what he could, when he could, and hoped nobody looked too closely at the books.
Compared to some companies in Konoha—corporations that responded to financial deficits by immediately slashing employee compensation to stop losses—Naruto's approach was actually remarkably generous.
But Orochimaru didn't know any of this internal context. From his perspective, being hired without salary to work for food alone seemed like extreme penny-pinching.
The misunderstanding hung between them, unacknowledged and unexplored.
After a moment's consideration, weighing his options, calculating his next move, Orochimaru cleared his throat.
"Naruto-sama," he said carefully, "I have some information that you might find interesting. Intelligence that could prove valuable."
His tone suggested significance. Weight. The kind of information that shifted situations and opened possibilities.
Naruto's attention sharpened immediately, blue eyes focusing with predatory intensity.
"Oh? What kind of information?"