NBA: One-Punch Monster
Naruto: Training is My Ninja Way
Prince of Tennis: Ninja of Tennis
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"This has gotta be the place, right?"
Seimei hovered above a quiet stretch of forest, eyes locked on a modest hill dead ahead. According to Ito's memories, this was the exact spot, the underground lab where the guy met Orochimaru and took the job.
So yeah, snake's probably curled up right under that hill.
No time to waste. Third-eye Byakugan flared open.
Instantly the world went monochrome, everything turned ghostly black-and-white, and his vision punched straight through solid rock like it was tissue paper.
He zeroed in on the base Ito remembered.
Labs. Rows of tanks filled with sloshing green fluid, human and animal parts floating inside like some nightmare sushi bar. Prison cells packed with failed test subjects, bodies twisted into shit that shouldn't exist. Quick scan of their insides told him none of them had more than a couple days left, tops.
Even for a guy who'd long since stopped giving a damn about this warped world, it still made his stomach turn a little. He'd killed plenty since coming here, sure, but that was war, missions, straight-up survival. Orochimaru's brand of "science"? Just sadistic bullshit for the lols. Didn't sit right with the morals he'd carried from his old life.
But fixing the world? Not on today's to-do list.
He flicked his gaze past the dying freaks and hunted for the real prize: Orochimaru himself.
This was clearly one of the snake's body-mod playgrounds, high priority. Guy had to be here.
Except… he wasn't.
Seimei swept the Byakugan back and forth, three full passes. No Orochimaru. Hell, not even a single guard.
"What the fuck?"
Frowning, he dropped into the earth with Earth Release: Earth Dragon Vein and slipped inside the base.
Lab after lab, all abandoned. Thick layer of dust on everything. Cheap equipment left behind, anything worth a damn stripped clean. Tanks full of useless junk. Cells full of failed experiments, no successful ones like Ito's team.
Judgment call: Orochimaru bailed days ago and wrote this place off.
One more thing, those prisoners should've starved by now. Ten-plus days without food? Should be corpses and bones.
Yet every single one was still breathing, barely.
Something was off.
Seimei left the labs and ghosted over to the cell block.
He cut the bars on the nearest cage with a wind blade.
The prisoners barely twitched, just cracked their eyes, glanced at him like "oh great, another asshole," then went back to waiting for death.
Whatever.
He walked straight up to the closest one, slapped a hand on the guy's forehead, and fired off basic mind-reading jutsu. No need to flex the Rinnegan in front of witnesses he was gonna silence anyway.
Memories flooded in.
Seimei's eyes snapped open and locked onto the far corner of the cell.
Some half-dead bastard was slumped against the wall, eyes closed, breathing shallow, looking two seconds from the grave.
Except every single prisoner's memories said the exact same thing: for the past ten-plus days, that exact "dying" guy had been the one passing out food, keeping everyone alive.
Yeah. Real convenient.
The prisoners had stayed quiet when Seimei showed up not because they'd given up, but because they were scared shitless of the corner dude.
And right on cue, the guy opened his eyes.
Even though his body looked like a stiff breeze could finish him, those golden slit pupils were sharp as kunai and gleaming with way too much life.
That stare… Seimei knew it instantly.
Orochimaru's "ooh fresh test subject" stare.
"Heh heh heh~ Seimei-kun… I knew you'd come."
The voice, the cadence, that creepy-ass sing-song lilt. Bingo.
Seimei had only met the real Orochimaru a handful of times, but between the guy's reputation and every damn frame from his past-life memories, that predator stare was burned into his brain. He'd made a mental note years ago: never turn your back on those eyes.
Old news.
Seimei just looked the fake corpse up and down, totally unimpressed.
"Orochimaru… you really are one twisted, theatrical son of a bitch."
Tone flat, but dripping with the kind of confidence that says I already won.
Sure, the snake probably set this whole "play possum in the failure pen" stunt hoping for a cheap shot.
Too bad Seimei never gave him an opening.
And now? The mask was off, and the snake was cornered in his own cage.