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Chapter 114 - Chapter 1: Orochimaru’s Resurrection

In a pitch-black underground laboratory...

A short-haired woman, submerged in a nutrient tank, suddenly began to convulse violently. The three black tomoe on her shoulder turned scorching red in an instant, and from the curse mark, a massive white snake slithered out. Its jaws parted—and a long-haired man, his entire body slick with mucus, slowly crawled forth.

Orochimaru had returned.

Back then, when Tsunade came to him seeking a cure for Shizune's madness, Orochimaru had been powerless to help. With no other option, he sealed her in the nutrient tank, hoping for another chance in the future. On a sudden impulse, he had left a Heaven Curse Mark on her body.

His original backup plan—resurrecting through Anko—had long since failed. Fortunately, he'd prepared this alternative, and thanks to that foresight, he had now clawed his way back to the living world.

After transferring Shizune to another tank and leaving another curse mark, Orochimaru cautiously left the underground facility. And then… he froze.

This wasn't the world he remembered. It wasn't paradise. It was hell.

Faced with a shinobi world that had been utterly reduced to rubble, even someone like Orochimaru was at a loss. He could endure solitude, could carry on his research in silence—but scientific advancement required infrastructure. Without an industrial base, who would manufacture his equipment?

Orochimaru was a biologist. Don't expect him to build factories.

Thanks to his inhuman physical capabilities, he was able to survive and explore this world where normal humans would quickly perish. For a long, long time, he encountered no living soul. At the ruins of Konoha, there were four corpses. Orochimaru only observed them from the shadows—he didn't want to risk an awkward reunion with his former teacher.

There was still a small flame of humanity left in the Land of Earth, ruled by Ōnoki.

Ōnoki—at least as Orochimaru remembered—had been a frail, diminutive old man. But now, that image had been completely replaced. Perhaps it was a glitch from the resurrection process, but Orochimaru became increasingly aware that something about his understanding was off. That awareness kept him from getting too close.

Ōnoki was strong—and more than that, he ruled the Land of Earth like a dictator. He'd destroyed nearly all written records and executed knowledgeable shinobi and scholars, replacing learning with ignorance and obedience.

The new generation of humans worshiped Ōnoki like a god. Fanatical, unquestioning, ready to sacrifice themselves at a moment's notice.

Eventually, Orochimaru discovered the Dragon Vein.

He had no desire to waste away in this desolate world, nor did he wish to be hunted down by Ōnoki. Given enough time and evidence, he was confident he could uncover the secrets behind the Dragon Vein's power.

...

Orochimaru didn't know whether the Dragon Vein had taken him to the past or to a parallel world—but soon enough, he was certain it was the latter.

Not long after leaving the desert of the Land of Wind, he ran into an old friend.

From afar, he saw an elderly white-haired man sprinting toward him, shouting,

"Orochimaru! You're alive?! I knew it—I knew you wouldn't die so easily!"

Jiraiya's face lit up with emotion. His eyes reddened as he threw open his arms to hug Orochimaru—only to be stopped by Orochimaru's hand firmly planted on his face, pushing him away in disgust.

"Jiraiya…" Orochimaru rasped. Truthfully, he was happy too—just not the kind of person who expressed it outwardly like Jiraiya did.

From Jiraiya's reaction, Orochimaru gathered that the version of "him" in this world was already dead.

His gaze turned probing. Jiraiya would no doubt be a valuable source of information.

As they walked and talked, it became increasingly clear that Jiraiya still hoped to convince him to return to Konoha. Orochimaru neither agreed nor refused—he simply kept stringing Jiraiya along to extract more intel.

In the forests of the Land of Fields, the rustling of fallen leaves echoed around them. Jiraiya stared at the cliff in front of them, confused.

"Orochimaru, what are we doing here?"

He'd intended to bring Orochimaru back to Konoha—but the moment he started following Orochimaru's lead, he got outmaneuvered. Now, without even realizing it, they'd ended up deep in the Land of Fields.

"Orochimaru, something strange is happening in Konoha. We really need you right now…" Jiraiya pleaded once again.

Orochimaru shot him a glance.

"You still won't explain exactly what happened. All you ever say is 'come back, come back.' Do you really think that's going to work?"

"I think it might," Jiraiya muttered, somewhat sheepishly. In truth, he didn't know all the details himself. But the Third Hokage had urgently summoned him, Tsunade, and most of the Konoha shinobi operating abroad. That alone meant things were serious.

They talked a little longer. But once Orochimaru realized Jiraiya had nothing else useful to say, he gave him a not-so-subtle dismissal.

Jiraiya left, looking thoroughly dejected. Only after his silhouette had completely vanished did Orochimaru slap his hand against the ground. A section of the cliff face retracted inward, revealing a hidden entrance. He stepped inside cautiously.

Sure enough, the two worlds weren't so different. No matter the version of Orochimaru, he seemed to favor the same types of locations when building secret bases.

There was no way he was going back to Konoha—not just because of differing ideologies, but because of certain "ghosts" that haunted the place: Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Neji, and that mysterious figure stirring up chaos from the shadows...

In "his" own base, Orochimaru quickly adapted to his new environment. While gathering intel, he began a quiet investigation into how the Orochimaru of this world had died.

Time was slightly offset between the two worlds. In this one, the Uchiha Clan Massacre had happened just two years ago. And Sasuke… had only awakened a single-tomoe Sharingan?

That news left Orochimaru momentarily stunned. In his memory, Uchiha Sasuke was a schemer so cunning that no one even knew when he'd awakened his dōjutsu. The first time he'd publicly used it, he'd already unlocked the Mangekyō Sharingan—and nearly reduced Konoha to rubble.

Could it be that this Sasuke had a different personality?

Orochimaru's expression became quietly intrigued. He made a point of digging up more information about this version of Sasuke—and what he found was genuinely shocking.

Apparently, this Sasuke wasn't proficient in the Uchiha's traditional Fire and Lightning Release techniques. Instead, he wielded a strange corrosive mist. But in this world, it was the opposite: this Sasuke had respectable mastery of both Fire and Lightning Release, and showed little affinity for Water Release—let alone any mysterious mist that melted everything it touched.

Even their personalities were night and day. The younger Sasuke of this world… was hard to describe.

Hyūga Neji, on the other hand, hadn't changed much. Brooding, quiet, with the air of a man shouldering deep sorrow. Orochimaru was convinced he was secretly plotting the downfall of the entire Hyūga clan.

Konoha had truly suffered over the years—from the Nine-Tails incident, to the Uchiha Massacre. At this rate, even the Hyūga might fall one day. The village could very well be reduced to ashes.

What a tragedy...

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Pls Drop some Power Stones

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