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All kinds of twisted ideas flashed through Seimei's head like kunai in a storm. He stood there for a hot second, then smirked. Fuck it, we're doing this.
He was about to jump straight in, but then thought better of it and froze. Moonlight Island was his golden goose, his sacred grinding spot. If he accidentally pinged the Sage of Six Paths' radar while screwing around, he'd have to ditch the whole damn place. No way he was risking that.
So yeah, not here.
With a flick of his will, Seimei triggered Flying Thunder God, yanking Danzō's filthy Edo Tensei corpse along for the ride. In a crackle of lightning, he teleported straight to that deserted shithole island where he'd originally sealed the old war-hawk and the Seven-Tails.
Blink. Boom. A few hundred miles gone in half a heartbeat.
Staring at the old scars and seals he'd carved into the rock back then, a rare nostalgic glint flickered in his eyes. Whatever. He shook it off fast—no time for sentimental bullshit—and got to work draining the bastard's chakra.
First, he played it safe, using the regular old Chakra Absorption Technique like always. Around 1.5 million points in, sure enough, that faint Pure Land brand buried deep in Danzō's soul twitched—just like he predicted.
Same reaction as every other time.
That confirmed it: his little side hustle hadn't tripped any alarms yet. Especially not from the big bearded grandpa in the sky.
Grinning like a fox in a henhouse, Seimei switched tactics. He dropped the kiddie gloves and fired up the Rinnegan's hungry-ass "Sealing Jutsu: Absorption Seal."
Holy shit.
Chakra came flooding in like a goddamn tsunami—way faster than the basic technique. It roared into him, thick and endless, practically begging to be devoured.
Seimei had to fight the urge to just zone out and bathe in it. He split his focus, keeping one eye locked on that Pure Land mark while the juice poured in.
…Nothing.
Not a flicker. Hell, even the tiny ripple from the weaker technique vanished completely.
He had no idea why, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.
So he kept sucking—two million, three million, five million, ten million, twenty million—until he hit roughly twenty-five million points. Only then did the Pure Land brand give the faintest little shiver again.
Better safe than sorry, so he cut it off right there.
After double-checking nothing funky was going on, he finally turned his attention inward.
Twenty-five million fresh points of chakra just chilling in his brow dimension.
A nasty, satisfied grin crawled across his face.
Sure, compared to his own daily recovery or the practically infinite stash in the Pure Land, it wasn't world-shattering. But compared to the measly 1.5 million he used to be able to skim before the mark woke up? This was a goddamn jackpot.
With this haul, he could easily cover the extra 400,000 daily cost of bumping his nature-energy-absorbing shadow clones from 900 to 1,100, and still have enough left over to plug a huge chunk of his daily deficit.
Quick math later: if he could milk Danzō for 25 million every day from now on, his daily chakra shortfall would drop from 77.73 million down to just 53.13 million.
That's weeks—maybe months—more runway before his reserves ran dry.
"Man, if I could get my hands on a whole damn army of Orochimaru's Edo Tensei toys…" The greedy thought slithered through his mind before he could stop it.
He squashed it almost as fast. Not because he was going soft—hell no—but because right now it'd be suicidal.
One Danzō? That's just a tiny straw sipping from an ocean. The Pure Land's been stockpiling souls and chakra for centuries; 25 million a day is pocket change.
But hook up dozens, hundreds, thousands of those straws? That's not stealing anymore—that's kicking in the front door and raiding the vault in broad daylight.
You really think the Sage of Six Paths is gonna just sit there picking his nose while someone loots his private doomsday armory? The same armory he built to fight the Ōtsutsuki if they ever come knocking?
Yeah, hard pass.
Until Seimei hits Six Paths-tier himself, he's keeping this operation quiet and classy—one dirty little straw at a time.
Twenty-five million a day is plenty for now anyway.
Shaking off the daydreams, he gave Danzō's soul one last scan—still no alarms—then dragged the corpse back to Moonlight Island with another Flying Thunder God hop.
Whipped out a scroll, slammed "Heavenly All-Encompassing Seal" on the bastard, and stuffed him back into storage like yesterday's trash.
Job done.
He glanced at the clock—damn, over half an hour gone already.
This training cycle was basically toast, so instead of heading into the volcano for body tempering, he just topped off his own chakra from the new stash until he was brimming.
Then he popped another Wood Clone.
Looking the clone dead in the eye, he said, "Starting now, your only job is tracking down Jūgo's birthplace. Go."
Straight to the point—no bullshit.
Yeah, he could just hit up Orochimaru right now, but screw that. The second he makes contact, that snake-eyed creep will start connecting dots faster than you can say "immortal psychopath." Seimei's strong enough that Orochimaru isn't a real threat anymore, but being under that pervert's microscope 24/7? Hard pass. Dude gives him the creeps.
All he wants is a quiet place to grind in peace. No extra drama unless it's life-or-death.
So Plan A stays the same: find Jūgo the old-fashioned way. If he hits a brick wall, then—and only then—will he cash in that favor with the snake.
Besides, until his next full-body evolution, he's got more than enough nature energy to burn. No rush.
The wood clone gave a curt nod, sprouted wind wings and a glowing chakra shroud, then shot into the night sky heading straight for the Land of Rice Fields.
First stop: Orochimaru's favorite playground. If Jūgo's clan is anywhere, odds are it's hiding in those borders.
Seimei watched the clone disappear into the dark, then turned back to the island.
One glance at the horde of shadow clones still struggling to fuse all seven chakra natures, he shrugged—poof—undid the whole Multiple Shadow Clone jutsu and sucked all their experience back in one hit.
Time to start the next grind session from scratch.
Let's fucking go.