Orochimaru had not expected Hyūga Satoru to be this strong—but that did not mean the situation had slipped beyond his control.
He still had many trump cards left to play.
Aside from Edo Tensei, he had a whole arsenal of forbidden techniques yet unused. The only inconvenience was the current battlefield arrangement: one of his subordinates was being suppressed head-on by Might Guy, while the other had been sent crashing to the ground by Satoru's Gentle Fist. That distraction prevented Orochimaru from focusing entirely on Jiraiya.
Ordinarily, Orochimaru did not care about the lives of his subordinates.
But Kabuto and Kimimaro were different.
Kimimaro was one of the most perfect vessels he had ever encountered—an ideal candidate for the Living Corpse Reincarnation. Kabuto, meanwhile, was indispensable: a rare assistant with both medical talent and an exceptional grasp of ninjutsu theory.
Losing either of them would be… troublesome.
Standing atop Manda's massive head, Orochimaru's gaze drifted toward Hyūga Satoru.
There, in the middle of the battlefield, Satoru was calmly holding off the combined assault of Senju Hashirama and Senju Tobirama, his movements precise and efficient. No panic. No hesitation.
A flicker of greed ignited in Orochimaru's golden eyes.
The Byakugan of the Hyūga main family…
It seemed he had underestimated this ancient clan of Konoha.
If he could obtain Hyūga Satoru's body, how far would his own limits rise?
Orochimaru's pursuit of the Living Corpse Reincarnation had never been solely about immortality. Long ago, he had realized a cruel truth of the shinobi world:
Bloodlines mattered.
The existence of kekkei genkai meant some ninja were born standing at heights others could never reach—no matter how hard they struggled. Ordinary shinobi could spend a lifetime training, only to fail to touch even the lower boundary of a bloodline wielder's potential.
That was reality.
And the Living Corpse Reincarnation was Orochimaru's answer to it.
By stealing bodies, he could steal bloodlines. For him, the shackles of birth no longer existed.
Over the years, he had searched tirelessly for outstanding kekkei genkai users. Among them all, Kimimaro's Shikotsumyaku had once been his greatest prize.
But now…
Watching Satoru fight, Orochimaru felt something new stir.
Back then, Satoru had been a loyal Konoha shinobi. The Hyūga had not produced anyone worth coveting, and the clan's protection of the main family had been airtight. There had been no need to provoke them.
But now?
Orochimaru was already a missing-nin. That stain could never be erased.
And Hyūga Satoru had just shown him how terrifying the true ceiling of the Byakugan could be.
From every angle, taking the Byakugan was the optimal choice.
With that thought, Orochimaru acted.
His neck suddenly stretched forward like living rubber, shooting toward Satoru in a grotesque blur while Satoru was still fending off Hashirama and Tobirama.
"Satoru! Watch out!"
Jiraiya roared a warning as he rapidly formed hand seals. His long white hair erupted outward, hardening into countless needles that fired toward Orochimaru in a dense storm.
Ninjutsu: Hair Needle Senbon!
Chi—chi—chi—chi!
The needles shredded Orochimaru's body on contact, tearing straight through him.
Yet his advance did not slow in the slightest.
Satoru had already noticed.
The Byakugan's vision left no blind spots, and Orochimaru's killing intent had never left his awareness.
While blocking Hashirama with one fist and deflecting Tobirama with an open palm, a kunai slipped quietly from Satoru's sleeve and dropped toward the ground.
Just before it struck, Satoru flicked his foot.
The kunai snapped upward, now flying straight toward Orochimaru's onrushing head—wrapped in crackling Lightning Release chakra, far faster than any ordinary throw.
Orochimaru smiled.
His neck twisted unnaturally midair, evading the kunai with ease. The next instant, his mouth opened wide, fangs bared, biting straight toward Satoru's neck.
His body was grotesque—but in battle, that very distortion made him horrifyingly effective.
Satoru remained calm.
Meeting Orochimaru's greed-filled gaze, his eyes sharpened.
"Hm?"
At the exact moment Orochimaru believed he had succeeded—
Satoru vanished.
Orochimaru felt his body drop.
His vision blurred. Instinct screamed.
He twisted his head—
—and saw Satoru standing behind him.
Satoru had reappeared precisely where the lightning kunai had flown. Catching it in midair, he slashed once.
The Lightning Release–enhanced blade cut cleanly through Orochimaru's elongated neck.
Blood sprayed violently.
Orochimaru's head—and several meters of neck—crashed to the ground.
The blood hissed as it touched the air, instantly transforming into a faint purple neurotoxic mist.
But Satoru did not relax.
Of course not.
Someone like Orochimaru would never die that easily.
Without lingering for even a fraction of a second, Satoru activated the Flying Thunder God and reappeared beside Jiraiya.
The pressure Orochimaru exerted was immense. Staying near Jiraiya was safer—and it allowed Jiraiya to draw Orochimaru's focus, creating a chance to capture him alive.
"Boom!"
Kabuto finally struggled to his feet.
Seeing Orochimaru's severed body lying in a pool of blood, his face drained of color.
"Orochimaru-sama!!"
Before his panic could fully surface, Orochimaru's mouth snapped open.
A slick hand slammed onto the ground.
Hashirama and Tobirama shifted instantly, moving to shield Kabuto.
Under Satoru's gaze, Orochimaru's mouth split wider—and a new Orochimaru crawled out, coated in viscous fluid.
"Hehehe…"
"Why are you shouting, Kabuto?"
He stood upright, glancing lazily at his subordinate. Behind him, the severed body had already collapsed into a pale snake husk.
Not a scratch marked Orochimaru's new form.
Neither Jiraiya's senbon nor Satoru's blade had truly injured him.
Kabuto froze—then relief flooded his face.
In all his years serving Orochimaru, this was the first time he had seen someone force his master to shed his skin.
Orochimaru sensed that loyalty clearly.
He placed a hand on Kabuto's shoulder. From his sleeve, a small snake shot out and bit him.
Kabuto stiffened in pain.
"Orochimaru-sama… this is—?"
Black markings rapidly spread from the bite.
"This is a weakened curse mark," Orochimaru explained casually. "Your body can't withstand much. But this should be enough to counter the Hyūga's Gentle Fist."
Kabuto's eyes shone.
He had coveted the curse mark for years.
Yet the joy lasted only moments.
The numbness faded—but not completely.
"Orochimaru-sama…" Kabuto said, voice trembling. "The Gentle Fist… it's not fully undone."
Orochimaru frowned.
Then he looked back at Satoru.
The greed in his eyes deepened.
Without a word, Hashirama and Tobirama surged forward toward Gamabunta.
Wood erupted from the earth.
Wood Release: Advent of the World of Trees!
Massive roots coiled around the toad summon, locking him in place. Even Gamabunta could not contend with Wood Release.
Jiraiya canceled the summoning instantly and charged down the branches.
Orochimaru drew the Kusanagi Sword, planting it into the ground as he waited.
"It's over, Orochimaru!"
Just then—
"Stop."
A kunai pressed lightly against Orochimaru's back.
Satoru had appeared silently behind him.
Orochimaru's pupils contracted.
"…Flying Thunder God."
"When did you—?"
Satoru did not answer.
He merely glanced at Kabuto.
Orochimaru's eyes widened.
Understanding struck.
When Satoru hit Kabuto earlier…
A Flying Thunder God mark.
He had been played.
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