Chapter 57: Horror Legend
About ten years ago, a strange rumor began circulating in Konoha—a horror legend whispered among villagers and shinobi alike.
They said that beneath the shadows of the village lay a vast, hidden complex of structures—an underground labyrinth of laboratories and chambers where forbidden experiments were conducted.
According to the tale, the souls of dead shinobi wandered those halls, draped in white robes, continuing their gruesome research long after their bodies had perished. These restless figures, consumed by malice, sought to escape the prison of life and death—to return to the surface and walk once more among the living.
But such creatures, bound to the darkness, were not free. Their time in the world of light was fleeting. They had to hide their decay with drugs and living flesh, disguising their rotting forms behind masks of humanity. Yet as time passed, their souls would again separate from their bodies, forcing them to sink back into the shadows where they belonged.
What made the legend truly terrifying was its realism. These monsters were said to retain their intellect, emotions, and cunning—perfectly capable of pretending to be human. Some claimed they might even be standing beside you, smiling as you spoke… waiting for night to fall.
And when it did—when the moon hung high and silence ruled the village—you might hear a faint knock at your door. There, in the darkness, a familiar face would appear—an old comrade you'd long believed dead. They would smile gently and whisper:
"Would you like to join us?"
It was said that at that moment, the dreamer would jolt awake—heart pounding, drenched in cold sweat—realizing that the friend they'd seen had been dead for decades.
This ghost story had persisted for years, told to frighten disobedient academy students. And it worked every time.
For a ninja, after all, the most terrifying fate wasn't death or torture—it was discovering that the people you trusted most had long been replaced by something else.
Even hardened jonin would feel a chill creep down their spines when they heard that tale.
Its origin was long forgotten. Some said it began with a drunken shinobi who stumbled upon a midnight gathering and imagined the rest. Others thought it was a fabrication of the Anbu to keep curious eyes away from restricted zones.
Yet, as with all good legends—there was truth buried deep within the lie.
When the story first spread, Tsunade had dismissed it as nonsense. But now, standing within the heart of the Ninjutsu Research Institute, she finally understood what it truly described.
Behind Konoha's brilliance… something vast and unseen had taken root. A shadow that climbed the trunk of the village like a vine—quietly, relentlessly—until it reached the very top.
No war. No rebellion. No coup.
Just a silent replacement—subtle and perfect.
"By the way," Aizen said from the podium, his tone calm, "please have Tsunade and Orochimaru remain behind. I need to discuss matters regarding the Executive Department with you two privately."
"Executive Department…?" Tsunade repeated warily.
"Yes." Aizen smiled, ever composed. "Since there is a Ninjutsu Research Department, it is only natural that an Executive Department exists as well. It functions alongside this institute. For security reasons, both divisions operate independently and only communicate through sealed correspondence and selected intermediaries."
Orochimaru's serpentine eyes narrowed slightly. "Then our role is…"
"To serve as the contact point," Aizen replied smoothly. "To coordinate intelligence and communication between research branches. Two individuals with prior leadership experience would be ideal."
"…."
Tsunade glanced at the other shinobi, who accepted the explanation without question. Inwardly, her heart sank.
Completely under his control.
Aizen had orchestrated everything so flawlessly that even those standing beside him couldn't see the manipulation. Every initiative he proposed, every project he launched—it all seemed to serve Konoha's interests perfectly.
No one questioned him because nothing he did looked suspicious.
From a purely academic standpoint, there was no flaw in his plans. Not even Tsunade or Orochimaru, two of the most brilliant medical and scientific minds in the village, could argue against them.
Perhaps the only omission was the absence of research divisions tied to the Senju and Uzumaki bloodlines—but considering the political sensitivity of those clans, even that made sense.
Soon, the operation began. Staff wearing white haori emerged from the corridors, escorting the shinobi to their designated development areas and private quarters. The security protocols were absolute—no one could enter or leave without clearance.
Until full confidentiality was ensured, all personnel were to live and work on-site. Food would be delivered weekly, but the couriers would never return.
It was, by every measure, the largest and most tightly controlled initiative in Konoha's history.
Dozens of jonin and special jonin willingly accepted confinement within this underground fortress—
ready to dissect their own jutsu, their bloodlines, and even their humanity—
all for the sake of progress.
Had this happened even two years earlier, such disobedience would have led to the expulsion of an entire clan. But times had changed. Facing the pressure of the Four Great Ninja Villages, Konoha's clan leaders were now forced to face a grim reality.
This was no longer an era of negotiations. The hatred between Konoha and the other villages had long since passed the point of reconciliation. Across two Great Ninja Wars, Konoha had stood alone—one village against four.
So now, the logic was simple: better to strike first than be strangled later.
Every ninja and researcher gathered in the room had been carefully selected—people deemed utterly loyal. They were either the Third Hokage's most trusted Anbu, Danzo's personal faction, or the next-generation heirs of the major clans. The amount of trust and resources invested in this group was beyond measure.
And yet, Tsunade's eye twitched as her gaze fell on one particular figure.
There, in the corner, sat a man in a size 11 haori, white hair barely visible under the edge of his mask, quietly reading a small paperback novel.
Tsunade nearly swore out loud.
What the hell is Hatake Sakumo doing here?! Did the Seireitei just decide to absorb the Root too?
As if sensing her unspoken irritation, Aizen stepped forward with perfect timing, smiling warmly as he addressed the crowd.
"Ah, those masked haori-wearing individuals you see among us—they are members of the Special Operations Unit," he explained calmly. "Their task is to ensure the internal stability of the Ninjutsu Research Institute."
He paused briefly, scanning the hall.
"Because of the sensitivity of their work, their identities must remain confidential. They will not appear outside this facility, nor will their names be revealed. I ask for everyone's understanding."
"…."
Even the foundation is solid now, Tsunade thought bitterly.
Every move Aizen made felt inevitable, as if he had already planned several steps ahead. His calm voice, his precise timing, his almost divine composure—it was suffocating.
How did this man rise so quickly? she wondered. Did everyone else just die and leave him the throne?
Aizen, of course, offered no explanations.
Once the initial roll call concluded, several shinobi with unique bloodline abilities or secret techniques were reassigned to specialized divisions. Others were sent to acclimate to their new research wings according to Aizen's directives.
Clan members possessing the Sharingan or Byakugan were placed in isolated environments for compatibility and experimental synchronization testing. After all, those from noble clans tended to have… distinct personalities, and it was better to establish the rules early.
Soon, the hall—once crowded with dozens of ninja—grew quiet. Only a handful of figures in white haori and masks remained.
Aizen looked over them, adjusted his glasses, and spoke again.
"Now then," he said with a faint smile, "let's proceed with the internal assignments for the Executive Department and other divisions."
He flipped through the parchment in his hand.
"Uchiha Kagami has withdrawn from this round of assignments. He wishes to continue investigating the incident involving the White Doll and has declined participation in Sharingan-related research."
"Kato Dan — Captain of the Second Division, Head of the Soul Materialization and Essence Research Team."
"Tsunade — Captain of the Fourth Division, Head of the Human Chakra Transformation Research Unit. Also responsible for medical treatment and suppression."
"Orochimaru — My research partner. Aside from your primary work in Konoha, you are free to choose any division that interests you. I will not interfere."
"Yakushi Nono — Vice-Captain of the Fourth Division. Your position mirrors that of Orochimaru. You may select your preferred specialization."
"…."
By the time Aizen finished speaking, the transformation of this secret organization—this parasite nested within Konoha—was complete.
As Tsunade stood there, her mind numb, Aizen gave a single, satisfied clap of his hands. The sharp sound echoed through the quiet hall, drawing all attention back to him.
"And finally," he said, his tone bright and casual, "I would like to introduce someone new."
He turned toward the dim shadows behind him, gesturing lightly.
"Our latest ally and collaborator—a being who has demonstrated the principles of Yin-Yang Release. Mr. Black Zetsu, if you would, please come forward."
"…."
A hush fell over the hall as a figure stepped into the light—half white, half black, his body encased in a strange plant-like structure that wrapped around his head like a grotesque flower.
The shinobi present stared, half in fascination, half in discomfort.
This strange creature in the white robe looked utterly miserable, his face twisted into an expression that screamed regret for every life choice that had led him here.
He bowed stiffly toward the gathered researchers, muttering a curt acknowledgment before lapsing into awkward silence.
The entire room collectively felt a pang of sympathy.
Another poor soul dragged into Aizen's web, they all thought silently.
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