Like Sunagakure's Kazekage Building, Konoha's Hokage Building the tallest structure beneath the Hokage Rock served many functions.
Most of the first floor was open to the public. The mission assignment hall and the large cafeteria were typically the busiest parts of the building.
Above were administrative offices, large conference rooms, and, at the top, the Hokage's office and the clerical departments assisting the Hokage.
After picking up his mission forms, Orochimaru left the assignment hall still quiet but soon to be bustling and headed upstairs.
Halfway up, he remembered something and stuffed the bag of apples into a storage scroll. He wasn't about to give any more away apples were expensive.
Nodding to a few clerical workers he passed on the stairs clearly coming off the night shift, visibly exhausted ,Orochimaru reached the top floor.
After announcing himself to the Anbu on duty and receiving permission, he entered the Hokage's office.
Pushing open the door, he was hit by the smell of food mixed with tobacco, fermented in the warm, stuffy air.
The stove in the corner burned brightly, emitting faint crackling sounds. A stack of empty lunch boxes covered in ash sat on the corner of the desk the source of the smell.
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, sat behind his desk, which was piled with documents far higher than the lunch boxes. He wore an expression of a man doing hard time.
Orochimaru, having just left the home of the half-crippled bachelor Jiraiya, wrinkled his nose at the office's stench, his face twisting into an expression even more grim than his teacher's.
A snake's sense of smell was its most important organ for sensing the outside world. Without even greeting his teacher, Orochimaru expressed his displeasure with the air quality. He walked straight past the massive desk, went behind Hiruzen, and opened the closed windows one by one.
That Orochimaru could do this was a testament to how much Hiruzen trusted his most reliable student. Anyone else, charging in without a word like that, might have been suspected of ill intent.
"Pay a little attention, Sensei."
Orochimaru stuck his head out the window, greedily breathing the crisp, cool early spring air. "Your office smells almost as bad as that idiot Jiraiya's house."
"Ah... does it?"
Hiruzen blinked in confusion, instinctively taking a deep breath. Only when he saw the pile of empty lunch boxes and ash did he scratch his balding head with some embarrassment and change the subject: "I can barely smell it anymore."
Of course he couldn't. Long in the fish market, you stop noticing the stench. He had been working overtime in this office for over a week—eating, sleeping, handling business—all here. He hadn't even left the room, let alone gone home.
He was so busy didn't even have time to use his crystal ball to peep—ah, no, patrol the village.
To be honest, Hiruzen was exhausted.
Konoha's situation was far from good. Sometimes, while working, he thought that even if his famously capable teacher Tobirama Senju were here, facing this tangled mess, he probably wouldn't have much free time either.
But then again, if Tobirama were still alive, Konoha might not have fallen into such dire straits.
At least they wouldn't have been dragged into such a costly war with Sunagakure.
These weak, pathetic thoughts often surfaced late at night, reminding Hiruzen of his own limitations and helplessness.
But what could he do? He was the Hokage now. The burden of Konoha was on his shoulders. He could think these useless thoughts to himself, but he couldn't exactly complain to anyone else.
The cool breeze from the window revived him. Hiruzen decided to take a short break while Orochimaru was here to "beg for money."
"How's Jiraiya?" "He's alright. His chakra pathways will need a few more months of treatment."
Satisfied, Hiruzen nodded. He pulled out his pipe, packed it with tobacco with a ninja's triple-speed dexterity, lit it, and took a deep, satisfying drag.
The thick smoke filled his lungs before being slowly exhaled, carrying away some of his accumulated fatigue. Through the rising smoke, he looked at Orochimaru and said, with utter sincerity: "Orochimaru… even if you ask again, the village doesn't have any funds to give you. You know I approved this project. No one wants it to stall more than I do…"
This conversation had repeated itself countless times since he had approved the First Hokage cell research project.
Whenever Orochimaru came asking for money, Hiruzen usually had to send him away with empty words. His "Truly! I'm sorry!" expression was practically carved into his face.
Sadly, compared to the endless, mind-numbing paperwork, arguing with his student or Danzō over funding had become one of his few opportunities to relax.
Ha. How pathetic.
Truth be told, Hiruzen regretted launching the project at this time. Not only had they achieved no usable results, but Tsunade having lost her lover and brother in quick succession had been utterly disillusioned and left the village.
As for Jiraiya's report that Tsunade might be held by Hii Kōri, Hiruzen didn't take it too seriously. For personal reasons, Jiraiya hadn't mentioned Tsunade's pregnancy, leading Hiruzen to misjudge the situation.
In his view, Tsunade had deep enmity with Hii Kōri; a fight was inevitable. Losing was understandable. But given Tsunade's status, and referring to the situation during the war, Sunagakure wouldn't use overly extreme measures.
In peacetime even nominal peacetime between the Five Great Villages, Tsunade's identity was the best protection.
And even if Tsunade resented the village, she wouldn't leak Konoha's secrets.
The only real issue was when Sunagakure would contact them to negotiate.
What Hiruzen didn't know was that Tsunade's son was already nearly two months old .
Nor did he suspect that the potential leak wasn't from Tsunade but from Orochimaru .
"I know the village is broke. That's not why I'm here."
Hearing his teacher's thick-skinned reply, Orochimaru shook his head with a wry smile and pulled the mission forms from his sleeve. "I came to take a mission."
"A mission? Ah, yes. A mission. Good."
Hiruzen blinked, then nodded in understanding.
It made perfect sense. Of the three Sannin, Orochimaru spending all his time on research was the most strapped for cash. He was also the most active in taking missions. His lab funding must have run out again, and he needed to fill the gap himself.
The thought made Hiruzen's heart ache.
What… what is becoming of our Konoha…
Looking down at the mission form, he raised an eyebrow. "Ho—a Red Hot Sand contract. This is a godsend."
Orochimaru nodded in agreement.
Hiruzen rang the bell on his desk, summoning the Anbu outside. He instructed them to notify the guild's local representative and, while they were at it, take out the office trash.
Normally, an escort mission of this caliber or rather, this price point would be assigned directly by the Hokage, with the details discussed in his office.
High-level escorts were usually commissioned by nobles, and nobles often proved stubborn and self-important, adding unnecessary difficulty.
But as mentioned, Red Hot Sand's contracts were essentially relationship-maintenance missions. No difficulty, few details. Basically: "Here's the money. Walk from point A to point B." Among escort missions, they were top-tier.
Soon, the guild's local representative—a friendly, prosperous-looking middle-aged man—arrived at the Hokage's office. When he learned that Orochimaru would be taking the mission, he beamed.
"Lord Orochimaru of the Sannin! With you on board, this is as good as done."
Everyone knew there would be no problems, but the representative's attitude provided ample emotional value. Without much small talk, Orochimaru left the Hokage Building with him.
"I hope I'm not being too forward, but I have another commission. Would you be interested, Lord Orochimaru?"
On their way to the caravan's inn, the smiling representative suddenly asked.
"Oh? Under ninja rules, we're not supposed to accept private commissions without going through the village."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed with interest. Though he said that, his attitude was clear: rules were rules, but exceptions were exceptions.
Red Hot Sand was known for its generosity. Already desperate for funds, Orochimaru wasn't about to refuse because of some "damn rule."
"What kind of commission requires bypassing the village and coming directly to me?"
"Nothing major. It's still mostly escort work."
The prosperous man waved a hand, smiling. "Our guild's big boss is very interested in technological development and archaeology. Recently, we found some ruins in the Land of Fire. He wants to excavate them—see if there's anything interesting."
"But ruins sometimes yield strange, dangerous things. Not necessarily difficult for a ninja, but for ordinary people like us? So the boss wants to hire some guards with both strength and expertise."
He tilted his head, adding, "Expertise is the key—knowing what can be dug up and what can't."
Orochimaru's strength was unquestionable; he was among the best in the ninja world. His reputation as a researcher wasn't hard to discover either. His expertise was top-notch. He was the perfect fit.
"As for bypassing the village… that was the boss's request. Avoiding the village's cut means more money for the people doing the work."
The representative spread his hands. "This commission isn't just for ninja. It's for specific people meeting certain criteria. If we paid differently for the same work, it would hurt morale, wouldn't it?"
"The pay for this job would be around 2.3 million ryō. What do you think? And don't worry—turning it down won't affect your current mission."
Even for this seasoned merchant, the number made his wallet ache. His squinting eyes twitched slightly.
"Oh? A merchant like you—don't you have any objections to your boss spending so frivolously?"
Orochimaru, in a decent mood, asked teasingly. He didn't crave money, but he was very aware of it. 2.3 million ryō was over two years' income for an average jōnin.
"Of course I'm envious. But any merchant who can't tell the difference between a one-time feast and long-term sustenance isn't much of a merchant."
The representative patted his belly and chuckled. "I've seen how much money those technical people can make. So I don't see this spending as wasteful. Money only has value when it flows."
"Of course, when dealing with those single-minded researchers who don't know any better, we might lowball them a little, take a cut. But not too much. Greed too far, and the higher-ups won't tolerate it."
"Is it wise to be so blunt about this?"
"Ah, embezzlement can't be stopped. But knowing what money you can take, what you can't, and how much—that's the skill. If you can't handle it, you deserve what you get."
"Your boss sounds like an interesting man."
Orochimaru's curiosity was piqued. "Could you introduce me?"
"That… I can't promise. I don't even know who our big boss is."
"Oh? What do you mean?"
"The boss has never appeared in person. I doubt more than a handful of people in the guild know who they are."
The prosperous man patted his belly cheerfully. "But there's a saying in the guild."
"We're merchants. We chase profit. Even if someone shat on our faces, as long as the price was right, we'd welcome it."
"In other words, as long as they make us money, we don't care if the boss is a monster, an alien, or even a dog!"
Crude, but Orochimaru had to admit—accurate.
"The boss has reasons for staying hidden. What good would knowing his identity do me? None."
"Since there's no benefit, I'll suppress my curiosity. If I couldn't, I wouldn't be the regional manager for the area around Konoha~"
They arrived at the caravan's inn.
"If you have any special technology, you can sell it to us, Lord Orochimaru. Our boss is always eager for that—and pays generously."
Before calling the team together, the smiling representative added, as if he had seen through Orochimaru's predicament.
"…Of course. I'll consider it."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed, his cold smile faint.
Meanwhile, in a certain ruin in the Land of Fire…
"There… done."
Black Zetsu surveyed the freshly forged records, nodding with satisfaction.
***
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