As a Grey Knight In Naruto

Chapter 33 – Spinal Alchemy

Night cloaked Tanzaku Quarters like a soft, silken curtain. The lanterns lining the roads flickered with fading embers, and most of the city had surrendered to sleep. But beneath the surface, several kilometers out, in a hidden underground chamber,Hajime was still very much awake.

He sat cross-legged in the middle of his sterile sanctum, the stone walls around him faintly glowing with pyschic power that hajime releases as a light source. His robe hung open, sweat glistening across his bare chest and back, his eyes dimly luminous with power. Before him, suspended within a transparent psychic field, pulsed a sliver of life, unfinished, embryonic, but undeniably alive.

The Ossmodula.

A marvel of biological engineering and psychic precision, the organ was a whisper away from being complete. But its complexity dwarfed the secondary heart by far. Where the heart had been raw vitality and circulation, the Ossmodula was orchestration, designed to interface directly with the brainstem, regulate hormones with perfect timing, and release sculpting agents that would eventually harden and reshape bones.

In his mind, blueprints from the Apothecary's memories floated, overlaid on his chakra-vision. Tiny diagrams of hormone channels, timelines of activation cycles, sequences of neural feedback loops, it was a symphony of medicine, cybernetics, and biochemistry transcribed into flesh. Except here, there was no machine. No servo-skull whispering machine-chants. Only him. Only thought.

He reached out with both hands. Not physically, but with his will.

Psychic threads encased the growing Ossmodula, adjusting its shape, knitting internal ducts, layering the hormonal glands one by one. It hovered like a jewel above a shallow vat of nutrient solution, suspended in a golden sheen of Yang-infused chakra.

Each night for a week, he had returned here. Each time sculpting a little more. Each layer needed hours of focus and precision. And every night, he grew faster. Sharper.

But the world above hadn't stopped.

....

Morning always came too soon. Hajime would return to the clinic just before sunrise, slipping through the alleyways like mist. His face fresh, hands clean, and expression unreadable, as if nothing had happened. And each day resumed like clockwork.

The clinic was bustling. Illnesses, injuries, infections. Villagers from nearby settlements still poured into Tanzaku for treatment, thanks to the repute of its infamous doctor.

And Hajime.

Even Tsunade, unpredictable as she was, had started deferring certain patients to him. Not openly. Not with praise. But in subtle ways.

"Shizune," she called out once, tossing a folder aside. "Give the kid A harder Case now. He's got steadier hands than I do after four drinks."

Hajime, passing by, merely raised a brow.

Tsunade met his glance, daring him to comment. He didn't.

She didn't smile. But her silence spoke enough.

Shizune, on the other hand, seemed perpetually caught between admiration and mild exasperation.

"You barely sleep," she murmured one afternoon, catching him reorganizing all the clinic's stock in perfect alphabetical, compound-balanced order.

"I don't need much," he replied.

"Liar," she said, handing him tea. "You go out every night, tell me did you find a girl outside?."

"No, I'm working on something," Hajime said without missing a beat, sipping.

Shizune just stared at him.

"Oh Please, you work on something every night, then comeback as a doctor on day time?"

Hajime only smiled.

Tsunade often lounged nearby during these conversations, pretending not to listen. But her eyes never left him for long. Not anymore.

...

It was on the fifth night that he encountered his first failure.

A microscopic error in the Ossmodula's hormonal ducts had caused a cascade imbalance. The organ had started calcifying prematurely, warping under its own growth agents. Hajime gritted his teeth, forcibly dissolving the malformed tissue with a combination of chakra heat and psychic pressure.

He remade the outer layer, calmer this time.

This organ wasn't just about pumping chemicals. It needed to synchronize with the nervous system itself. That meant threading psychic command paths into the design. Not only had he to sculpt its physical shape, but he had to ensure it could receive and transmit psychic signals across spinal fluid, without frying the neurons.

He adjusted the protein-lattice mesh to allow that. Then wove chakra-conductive capillaries along the sheath, like miniature, living threads of silver inside its flesh.

It took two more nights to finish.

When it was finally done, the Ossmodula hovered above his hands, still wet from nutrient solution. It resembled a thin, finger-length tube of veined tissue, gently pulsing, its inner chambers already alive with life-stimulating signals. Hajime exhaled slowly, gaze sharp with resolve.

He wouldn't implant it yet. He needed to prepare for spinal surgery. He would wait.

....

Back in the clinic the following day, the tension between him and Tsunade had subtly shifted.

She watched him longer when he worked. Her hands would occasionally pause mid-suture if he passed by. Once, during a break, she found him in the back room reading one of her scrolls on nerve regeneration.

"You've already read that one," she said.

"Five times."

"Then why again?"

"To find what you missed."

She stepped closer, gaze flickering with something unreadable. "You think I miss things?"

"No," Hajime said, still focused on the scroll. "But you wrote this before I was born."

Tsunade blinked. Then, slowly, she smirked. "Cocky little bastard."

"Just precise," Hajime replied.

There was no heat in the exchange. Just something electric. Tension. Admiration. The kind of quiet recognition only equals shared.

...

By the end of the week, the clinic had fallen into an odd rhythm.

Shizune made the tea. Hajime adjusted the patients' prescriptions with frightening accuracy. Tsunade only interfered when someone needed bones put back with a single strike.

And in the spaces between, they shared silences. Conversations. Glances.

No one said it aloud.

But something was forming.

And below it all, beneath layers of clinic walls and stone, a secret organ now pulsed in a vat of gold-laced solution. Awaiting its time.

The next stage of alchemy would begin soon.

But for now… Hajime smiled faintly as he passed by Tsunade, who glanced up from her scroll with a raised brow.

One step at a time.

And each one further from humanity.

....