Orochimaru’s Magic Lamp

In the blink of an eye, two days passed.

After deliberate rest and recovery, Kabuto had shaken off the exhaustion from days of lab work. He adjusted his condition to peak performance.

Because Orochimaru had woken earlier than expected, there was a surplus of nutrient solution that Kabuto had originally prepared for him. Fortunately, it could now be put to good use—on Kabuto himself.

After setting up the circulation system for the nutrient tank, Kabuto removed his clothing and submerged himself into the pale green fluid.

Beside the tank, Orochimaru stood silently, his golden eyes gleaming with focus. His expression was serious, and his presence was completely restrained.

Now that he had full control over his Sage Chakra, he could conceal his aura entirely—just like the three Snake Sages of Ryūchi Cave. No one would be able to sense the cold, blood-soaked menace that usually radiated from him.

Orochimaru frowned slightly. "Before we begin the official procedure, I'll run a test. If you feel anything wrong, speak up immediately. Don't force yourself."

Inside the tank, Kabuto nodded slightly, a breathing device secured to his mouth. The green solution around him rippled gently in response.

"Sage Art: Morphing Flesh."

With that, Orochimaru said no more. He formed a seal with both hands. His chest and abdomen began to swell slightly, and from beneath the skin, pale tendrils of flesh twisted and extended—like living tentacles.

Through the glass and fluid, Kabuto watched this scene unfold. His brow twitched involuntarily.

He had long known that Orochimaru's obsession with experimentation knew no bounds. Techniques like the Orochimaru-style Substitution Jutsu, Soft Physique Modification, and Body Multiplication Jutsu had already pushed the limits of what he thought possible.

And yet, every time, Orochimaru still managed to redefine his understanding of the world.

Tentacles? What new technique had Orochimaru developed this time?

Sensing Kabuto's bewilderment, Orochimaru simply licked his lips and smiled, offering no explanation.

The white tentacles extended into the solution, piercing directly into Kabuto's chest—targeting the heart area, where chakra pathways were most concentrated.

Their bodies became connected through the tendrils, and using that link, Orochimaru began to channel Sage Chakra into Kabuto's body.

Almost immediately, a strangled cry escaped from Kabuto. His face twisted in pain, as if his body were buckling under immense pressure.

He began to gasp violently. The oxygen in his ventilator was consumed several times faster than normal, and the monitoring equipment showed a continuous spike in his cell activity.

Orochimaru nodded slightly in approval. He didn't fully understand the criteria the Lamp Djinn used for evaluation, but its assessment had clearly been correct—Kabuto did have the aptitude for Sage Mode. At the very least, he was highly compatible with Ryūchi Cave's brand of Senjutsu.

To be overwhelmed by chakra far beyond one's own strength was normal. It was no different from what Jinchūriki faced. In the vast shinobi world, only a handful could bear such a burden.

Yet despite the invasion of foreign natural energy, Kabuto showed no signs of turning to stone. He didn't lose control. He didn't fall into madness.

Instead, he had already begun the process of integrating the energy into his body.

This was partially due to Kabuto's careful chakra control, but more than anything—it was a testament to his natural talent.

"Perhaps," Orochimaru muttered, licking his lips, "this transplant has a real chance of success."

He slowly increased the output of Senju chakra, gauging Kabuto's physical limits and trying to manipulate the cells and chakra within his body.

Suddenly, Kabuto felt his own heart no longer belonged to him. It was beating—fast and slow—in a strange, erratic rhythm.

The irregular beating of Kabuto's heart soon affected the rest of his organs, creating a crushing sensation in his chest—as if a heavy stone had been placed there.

The discomfort was overwhelming. Kabuto couldn't help but groan out, "Orochimaru-sama... it hurts..."

His voice came out hoarse and distorted, like it was being squeezed through a narrow crack in a door.

Orochimaru raised an eyebrow and stopped "experimenting" with Kabuto's body, shifting his focus to controlling the flow of chakra more precisely.

Despite his deep understanding of human anatomy, Orochimaru's external control was still inferior to the body's natural self-regulation.

Kabuto let out a shaky breath of relief. Though Orochimaru's chakra was still circulating within him, the pressure lessened considerably.

So he kept speaking, giving continuous feedback about how his body felt. Orochimaru adjusted his chakra control accordingly, fine-tuning the transmission of Sage energy.

This process continued for nearly fifteen minutes. Through it, Orochimaru mapped out how much Sage Chakra Kabuto could endure and the limits of his cellular and spiritual resistance.

Eventually, the pale tendrils retracted. Orochimaru sat cross-legged and began meditating to recover the Sage Chakra he had consumed.

Inside the tank, Kabuto also closed his eyes, working to stabilize his body and regulate the lingering discomfort.

A short while later, Orochimaru stood again. He extended his tendrils once more and reinserted them into Kabuto's chest, forming a chakra-dense field within the tank.

Kabuto's expression turned grim. He understood—this was the real experiment now. He had watched countless transplant procedures performed on Uchiha subjects.

And just as expected, the fusion serum containing First Hokage cells was soon injected through a long, narrow needle.

The pain of the injection itself was nothing. But moments later, Kabuto's eyes rolled back, tears streamed from the corners, and his body convulsed violently—like an epileptic seizure. Nutrient solution splashed out of the tank in waves.

"As expected... still this overpowering," Orochimaru muttered.

Even though he had used Sage Chakra to isolate and contain the First Hokage cells, their strange and invasive nature quickly shattered his defenses and spread directly into Kabuto's spiritual core.

It was absurd—this was nothing but lab-grown tissue, completely ownerless. And yet the chakra it emitted was slightly stronger than Orochimaru's own.

How could mere human cells do that?

Then Orochimaru's expression darkened as a memory struck him—of the creature he had captured that night, under the Lamp God's guidance.

No... it can't be. The First Hokage was human. He had all the organs of a man. Tsunade is still his granddaughter...

But that didn't explain why First Hokage cells consistently went berserk or why they mutated their hosts into tree-like beings.

Wood Release alone couldn't justify it. After all, magnet-release users didn't turn into iron sand after death.

Up until now, Orochimaru had brushed aside these inconsistencies, attributing them to Hashirama Senju's unique physiology. But the deeper he probed, the clearer it became—Hashirama was far more special than anyone had realized.

He shared his theory with the Lamp God.

The Lamp God stroked his chin, furrowing his brow. "It's not impossible. Hashirama is different. He carried Asura's chakra, but he surpassed all the previous hosts. Maybe it's... a form of genetic reversion."

"No," he corrected himself a moment later. "It's not just atavism. It's something more—something like perfect harmony. The blood of the Otsutsuki... and the blood of the ninja... fully united. Time is strange, isn't it? A man—yet with the essence of a tree."

"Indeed..." Orochimaru silently agreed. He longed to examine a living Hashirama—to have him lie down on the very table before him.

But time would not turn back. Who knew how long it would take before another "First Hokage" could be born?

"Enough nostalgia," the Lamp God cut in sharply. "That Kabuto of yours is about to die."

"Focus on the transplant, will you?"

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