Chapter 24: Chapter 24 : Orochimaru
Chapter 24: Orochimaru
Orochimaru's reputation preceded him like the stench of corpses after a battlefield. The newspapers lauded his achievements from the Second Ninja World War, though anyone with half a brain could see the Third Hokage's heavy hand behind the propaganda. Building momentum for his chosen successor, no doubt—while Jiraiya rotted away in some foreign hellhole playing teacher to orphans who'd likely end up dead anyway
Jiraiya's absence from consideration as heir wasn't merely political convenience—it was survival. Three years of radio silence while training foreign orphans would have earned anyone else a hunter-nin squad and a shallow grave. Only his connection to the Hokage kept the executioner's blade at bay.
"Rei, look—Lord Orochimaru himself," Wada Yu breathed, his excitement palpable yet tinged with the nervous energy of a mouse spotting a snake. The meeting with the other Sannin had been thrilling; this felt different. Dangerous.
Hanazuki's eyes gleamed with an almost feverish admiration as she watched the pale figure survey the assembled genin. "Such presence," she murmured, though something in Orochimaru's golden gaze made her skin crawl even as her heart raced. There was hunger there—not for glory or recognition, but for something far more primal and unsettling.
The gathered candidates fell into two categories: those who worshipped strength with blind devotion, and those wise enough to recognize a predator when they saw one. Rei firmly placed himself in the latter group, deliberately avoiding the serpentine gaze that seemed to catalog every face, every weakness, every potential specimen for future... research.
The timeline felt heavy with inevitability. If Orochimaru wasn't already conducting his twisted experiments in Danzo's laboratories, it was only a matter of time. The village's golden boy would soon become its most wanted criminal, and Rei had no intention of ending up as a preserved eyeball in a jar.
"I am Orochimaru," the man announced, his voice carrying the wet rasp of something that had crawled out of a tomb. "Your chief examiner for this trial. You will receive two scrolls—Heaven and Earth. Only those who possess both will advance. The rest..." He smiled, and several genin unconsciously stepped backward.
His tongue emerged, pink and unnaturally long, to wet his lips. Even in this supposedly 'pure' stage of his life, Orochimaru radiated wrongness like heat from a forge. The gesture was meant to be intimidating, but it revealed something deeper—a man already losing his humanity, piece by deliberate piece.
"Death is not merely permitted in this examination," he continued with the casual tone one might use to discuss the weather. "It is expected. The Training Ground of Death has claimed many lives, and yours may well join them. The beasts that roam its depths have developed quite the taste for young flesh." The casual cruelty in his words sent a ripple of unease through the crowd.
Murmurs erupted like disturbed hornets:
"They're actually letting us kill each other?"
"This isn't training—it's culling."
"Orochimaru's rules. Should've known."
But Rei wasn't listening to their protests. His attention was fixed on categorising the threats, and what he saw made his blood run cold. Half the major clans had sent their most promising youth—not to test them, but to forge them in violence. This wasn't an examination; it was a baptism of blood.
"You must be Uchiha Rei." The voice belonged to Uchiha Izumiyama, flanked by two subordinates who moved with the mannerism of trained killers despite their youth. His smile was warm, but his eyes held the calculating gleam of someone measuring an opponent. "The elders speak highly of you."
"I'm sure they do," Rie replied carefully, recognizing the careful dance of clan politics. Izumiyama's public courtesy masked private calculations—the kind that led to 'training accidents' in dark forests.
"The clan expects great things," Izumiyama continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "First place belongs to an Uchiha. The clan head was quite specific about the... hierarchy of outcomes." The unspoken threat hung in the air like smoke.
Rei's smile never wavered, but his hand drifted unconsciously toward his kunai. "Funny. No one mentioned orders to me. I'm just here to pass." The challenge in his words was subtle but unmistakable.
"In that case," Izumiyama's own smile sharpened, "may the best Uchiha win." His teammates exchanged glances that promised violence, but their leader raised a restraining hand. "Patience," he murmured. "The forest provides many opportunities for... clarification."
As scrolls were distributed—Hanazuki clutching her Heaven scroll with white knuckles—Orochimaru's final words cut through the tension like a blade: "Seven days. Two scrolls. Survival optional." Then he dissolved into serpents that scattered like living nightmares into the treeline, leaving behind only the fading echo of malevolent laughter.
The forest beckoned, dark and hungry. Those who rushed in first would have time to prepare traps, but they would also attract the attention of things that hunted in shadow. Rei's team held back, watching as eager genin disappeared into the green hell ahead.
"Traps," Wada Yu reported tersely after they'd advanced ten kilometers, his voice barely above a whisper. The forest seemed to swallow sound, leaving only the distant calls of predators—both animal and human.
They melted into cover like proper shinobi, and Rei's shadow clone scouted ahead before dissolving to share its intelligence. Three enemies. Professional positioning. No escape routes offered—they meant to kill, not capture.
"Stone outcropping, right side," Wada Yu claimed his target with quiet confidence.
"Bushes, left. Mine," Hanazuki's usually cheerful voice had taken on a darker edge, the forest already beginning to change them.
"Tree branch. I'll handle it." Rei's hand found his blade. "Move."
Shirakumo Hayama had always prided himself on his tactical acumen. The early lead, the perfect ambush site, the careful positioning—everything had been executed flawlessly. His team was destined for promotion, destined for glory.
The scream that shattered his confidence came from behind the stone outcropping, followed immediately by the wet sound of steel finding flesh. His substitution jutsu saved his life by milliseconds, Rei's blade splitting wood where his throat had been.
"Quick reflexes," Rei observed conversationally, as if they were discussing training techniques rather than trading killing blows. But there was something cold in his red eyes, something that hadn't been there at the examination's start.
Shirakumo Hayama crouched on the adjacent branch, ponytail swaying, unmarked face still boyish despite the killing intent radiating from his stance. In years to come, scars would mark him as a survivor. Today, he was just another genin about to learn that survival came with a price.
'Uchiha,' Hayama thought with growing desperation, watching his teammates fall to coordinated brutality. One buried to his neck like a grotesque flower, the other unconscious and bleeding from Hanazuki's surprisingly vicious attacks. 'Should have known.'
"Captain! Take the scroll and run!" The buried genin's plea was cut short by Wada Yu's casual kick to his exposed head.
"Shut up," Hayama snarled, but his heart wasn't in it. The mathematics were simple: two injured teammates versus three healthy enemies. The equation had only one solution.
"Teammates or scroll," Rei called up conversationally. "Can't save both. Choose."
The Heaven scroll arced through the air, Hayama's surrender as much to pragmatism as defeat. But instead of snatching it, Rei kicked it aside like refuse.
"Wrong answer," he said simply. "Let's go."
As the Uchiha team vanished into the green shadows, Shirakumo Hayama knelt beside his battered teammates and made a quiet promise. The forest would claim many lives in the coming days, but he would survive. He would grow stronger.
And when the final examinations came, when they faced each other in single combat, he would show that arrogant Uchiha what happened to those who showed mercy to an enemy.
The forest watched their oath with ancient, hungry eyes, adding another thread to its web of violence and vengeance. In the distance, something that might have been Orochimaru's laughter echoed through the trees, pleased with how quickly his garden of death was beginning to bloom.
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