Let's rewind the clock about fifteen minutes.
While Seimei was busy ripping through Danzō's memories like a kunai through paper, somewhere far away in a creepy-ass underground lab, Orochimittal abruptly froze mid-experiment, scalpel hovering over whatever poor bastard was on the table.
"…Huh?"
A low, curious hiss slipped out of his throat.
He shut his golden eyes, flicked through a quick hand sign, and started probing something only he could feel.
A couple seconds later his eyes snapped open, wide with genuine shock.
"No way… they actually let him out? How the hell did that happen?"
Orochimaru muttered to himself, tongue flicking across his lips as his brain went into overdrive.
Curiosity got the better of him (like it always does), so he slithered out of the lab and into a massive underground chamber. Whipping out a brush, he started painting twisted seals on the floor faster than most people can tie their sandals. In no time he'd drawn a nasty-looking sensory array.
He plopped his ass down in the middle, legs crossed, and tried to shove his consciousness through the Edo Tensei link straight into Danzō's reanimated corpse.
…No dice.
Too far away, plus Seimei was straight-up mentally curb-stomping Danzō's soul into the dirt while he read the old war hawk's memories. Orochimaru got nothing but static.
Most people would've been pissed. Orochimaru? Dude just grinned like a kid who found the hidden porn stash.
He'd been low-key obsessed with Seimei ever since Danzō first came sniffing around for intel. Root ninjas—some of the most ruthless silent killers in the village—got sent to erase a fresh chunin and came back in body bags. That was the moment Oro knew this kid wasn't just some random prodigy; something way darker was hiding behind that pretty face.
Then war broke out, Oro got busy, attention shifted… until he heard the name again. Except now the kid was a high jonin, top-tier, carving through battlefields like a goddamn demon.
Orochimaru's interest went from "mildly curious" to "I need to dissect this boy with my own two hands."
Never got the chance though. Not until he bolted from Konoha and Seimei personally showed up to ruin his day. That's when he unleashed Edo-Danzō as a trump card… only for the bastard to get sealed five seconds later. Connection severed, trump card gone, Oro's pride took a hit.
And now, after all this time, the link was back.
How could he not be curious?
Plan B: just yank Danzō's corpse back home.
Yeah… that didn't work either. Someone overwrote his command like it was nothing.
Orochimaru froze for half a second, then let out the creepiest damn laugh you've ever heard.
"Heh… hehehehe… now this—this is interesting."
Tongue slithered out, dragging across his lips like he could already taste the chaos.
Instead of wasting more chakra trying to pull Danzō back, he switched gears—used the faint link to triangulate the guy's location. If he couldn't remote-view or recall the body, fine. He'd just send some disposable goons to go fetch him… and maybe, just maybe, finally get some alone time with the kid who kept screwing up his plans.
Minutes ticked by. Eyes closed, focusing.
When he opened them again there was a flicker of annoyance. Back when he first turned Danzō into an Edo puppet, his mastery of the technique was still dogshit. The link was weak as hell. Best he could get was "somewhere in the ocean between Lightning Country and Water Country." That's a big-ass haystack.
Still, he was about to send teams anyway.
Then—bam—the signal jumped. Hard.
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed. He zeroed in again.
Right at that exact moment, Seimei had just used Flying Thunder God to zip himself and Danzō's corpse to a deserted island for a quick chakra-siphoning session.
When Orochimaru locked onto the new coordinates, a bad feeling crawled up his spine.
Instant teleportation over stupid distances?
Only one technique in the world does that.
Flying Thunder God.
If Seimei really had the Fourth Hokage's signature jutsu… well, shit. Catching him just got a whole lot harder.
"…Please be wrong," Orochimaru muttered under his breath, then slinked off to send scouting teams anyway. Two locations now. Whatever. He'd burn the whole ocean down if he had to.
Meanwhile, back on the island.
Seimei wasn't dumb—he felt Orochimaru tugging on the Edo Tensei leash the second the snake tried it. Figured the creep would try to track him.
Did he give a single fuck?
Nah.
The Sage of Six Paths might make him sweat and switch locations, but Orochimaru? Please. Dude's a walking science experiment with a hard-on for immortality, not a god.
Seimei wasn't avoiding contact because he was scared; he just didn't want extra drama on his plate. But if Orochimaru actually showed up begging for a fight?
Cool. He'd give the snake a front-row seat to real power. Hell, might even beat the location of Jūgo's clan out of him early—two birds, one Rasengan.
Whatever. If the snake wants to dance, let him come.
Seimei shrugged off the thought, absorbed all the training memories from his shadow clones, then popped a fresh batch and got back to grinding.
Next five days: pure training, no distractions. He wanted hard numbers on how long this next body evolution was gonna take.
Five days later—sunset.
Last clone poofed away. Seimei checked his progress and smirked.
Yeah. Noticeable gains.
Crunching the data, he made his estimate:
About five and a half months until the next full transformation.
One month longer than last time—even with his reinforcement speed now 30% faster.
Proof that the higher you climb, the steeper the goddamn cliff gets. Especially raw physical stats. That shit doesn't care about your feelings.
Five and a half months wasn't ideal, but it was doable.
Bonus: in roughly two weeks, his Wood Release would finally hit 100% evolution.
That jump?
Straight to Mangekyō Sharingan tier.
The talent boost from that alone would slash the time needed for future body tempering.
Seimei cracked his neck, eyes glinting.
Can't wait.