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[NUT] Chapter : 22
🕑 Added 2025-05-30 07:47:35 +0000 UTC“It’s not impossible,” Orochimaru replied, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “But I’m with the Akatsuki now. Between missions, I barely have time for proper research.”
It was clear he was negotiating.
His tone was relaxed, even amused. He had no intention of staying tied down. If he wanted to leave Akatsuki, he could vanish at will.
To Orochimaru, borders were meaningless. Restrictions didn’t apply. In the original history, had he not fallen victim to Itachi’s Totsuka Blade, he would have roamed the world freely—unbound and unstoppable.
His body-substitution technique was practically a bug in the system, making him nearly invincible.
Only his weakened soul after each reincarnation was a drawback—his one true vulnerability.
“I can’t give you the Mangekyō Sharingan itself,” Itachi said calmly. “If I part with it, I lose my ability to use it. What I can offer are some Mangekyō cells.”
He understood Orochimaru’s subtext perfectly.
Of course, he wouldn’t offer up his own cells. His plan was to extract samples from his father Fugaku’s Mangekyō instead.
“You’re refreshingly straightforward, Itachi-kun,” Orochimaru said with a satisfied smile. “The cells will suffice. But… I may need several samples.”
He grinned, a gleam of madness in his eyes.
For someone like him, a few cells were enough to create an entire legion.
But the Mangekyō was no ordinary power. It demanded replication, testing, refinement.
And so, he would need more than just one sample.
He would need several.
“Alright.”
Itachi gave a small nod of agreement. After all, he had no plans to use Fugaku’s Mangekyō himself.
He intended to implant it into Sasuke one day—to help him achieve the Eternal Mangekyō. It was the final thing he could do for his father, and perhaps… a small redemption.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder—could Sasuke awaken the Mangekyō without first experiencing the loss of someone dear?
“Straightforward. I like that.”
Orochimaru's lips curled into a pleased smile at Itachi’s clear-cut answer.
“But by the way... your summoning beast—it’s quite impressive. Would you be willing to share the contract?”
Itachi’s voice was calm, but there was a flicker of anticipation in his eyes.
Truthfully, he wasn’t particularly fascinated by the snakes. What intrigued him more was the Senjutsu—the Sage Techniques.
The Uchiha were particularly suited for the Ryuuchi cave style of Sage Arts. The evidence? Sasuke’s own compatibility, as seen from the original timeline.
Orochimaru’s curse marks were the product of extensive experimentation—combining natural energy and the forbidden techniques of Ryūuchi Cave.
And yet, Orochimaru himself could never master the art. It remained one of his few regrets.
“Sure.”
Orochimaru didn’t even hesitate. He agreed as casually as if he were handing over a pen.
Once obsessed with eternal life, his goals had shifted. Now, he was focused on perfecting his own method of immortality—and more importantly, uncovering the unknown.
For him, scientific discovery was the ultimate pursuit.
With a dramatic flourish, Orochimaru unhinged his jaw and regurgitated an enormous scroll, slick with mucus.
Itachi blinked, momentarily stunned—and more than a little repulsed.
Was that really necessary…?
But when Orochimaru unraveled the scroll to reveal the clean parchment inside, Itachi finally exhaled.
Only now did he realize he might have a touch of mysophobia. That instinctive shiver had been hard to ignore.
Seriously… why must he store everything in his mouth?
Because the crow had been jointly raised by Shisui and himself, Itachi was able to sign the contract successfully.
One moment later, everything was complete.
And if the summoned snake dared to defy him?
He’d beat it into submission.
“Do you have the equipment for cell extraction?” Itachi asked, satisfied after signing the scroll. “If so, I can give you the sample now.”
He was beginning to appreciate Orochimaru’s straightforwardness—and how easily things could be arranged when dealing with someone so competent.
If his body hadn’t been so frail… he might’ve even considered obtaining some of Hashirama’s cells too.
But that was merely a fleeting thought.
Even the Uchiha, with their natural compatibility, struggled to withstand the wild, volatile power of Hashirama’s DNA.
And besides—Itachi would never allow Orochimaru to inject him with anything. If there was even a hint of treachery during the assimilation process, it could be fatal.
He couldn’t afford to gamble with his life.
“I do,” Orochimaru replied with his usual eerie confidence. “It’s not nearly as complicated as you’d think.”
He produced a small sealing scroll and summoned… a syringe?
“…???”
Itachi stared at it, eyes narrowing in disbelief.
“Relax,” Orochimaru said with a benign smile. “Just a little bit. I’m not asking you to drain the whole thing.”
The syringe he held wasn’t massive, but it was still thick—roughly the width of his little finger. Enough to make anyone uncomfortable.
If filled, it could very well ruin the Mangekyō entirely.
“How much is ‘a little’ exactly…?” Itachi muttered, his tone suddenly sounding more like a nervous child at the doctor’s office than a battle-hardened shinobi.
“Just enough to coat the tip of the needle,” Orochimaru reassured, his voice gentle. “That’s all.”
“Oh, and—” he added, as if suddenly remembering something, “I have a special healing solution here. Just a few drops on the eye, and the wound will close right up.”
He held up a tiny glass vial with a green shimmer, smiling as if offering candy instead of a post-op remedy.
"I'm going to the bathroom first," Itachi said quietly.
He glanced at Orochimaru, who looked all too eager—like he was expecting a live demonstration of eye-piercing right then and there.
"...Alright," Orochimaru replied, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Clearly, Itachi had no intention of performing in front of him. Still, the thought of acquiring those cells made Orochimaru’s pulse quicken. His tongue, long and serpentine, flicked out and traced across his lips, betraying his excitement.
Feeling Orochimaru's unsettling gaze, Itachi instinctively quickened his pace.
This guy is bad news, he thought. With his cockroach-like tactics and human experimentation, it wouldn’t be surprising if I somehow got trafficked by accident.
Reaching the bathroom, Itachi cloaked the area with chakra to block any external sensing. Then, with a solemn expression, he called out the summoning jutsu to retrieve a vial of eyes.
Technically, he could awaken the Eternal Mangekyō right now… But he chose not to.
His primary hesitation was strategic: his current ocular powers were illusion-based, and Fugaku’s Mangekyō ability remained unknown. Shisui’s Kotoamatsukami was also genjutsu. Combining these might produce something powerful—but unpredictable. This wasn’t just a matter of arithmetic. It wasn’t one plus one. It could become something entirely new… and possibly volatile.
He’d recently confirmed that his Tsukuyomi could work on Kakashi, who had a Mangekyō but no Uchiha bloodline. That left him uncertain about facing Obito, who possessed not only Mangekyō-level Sharingan but also the stabilizing factor of Hashirama’s cells.
And then there was Nagato, with his Rinnegan. The sheer power of those eyes was daunting.
Besides, Tsukuyomi had a glaring flaw—it required direct eye contact.
In the original events, Kabuto managed to counter this by activating Sage Mode and shielding his eyes. In that moment, Itachi had no choice but to use a forbidden technique, sacrificing an eye just to break the deadlock and bring Kabuto back from the brink.
Lost in thought, Itachi retrieved a needle and positioned it carefully over his father's preserved eye.
In hindsight, I should’ve snatched some spare three-tomoe Sharingan for backup. Those forbidden jutsu consume too much.
After drawing the necessary cells, he immediately applied the potion Orochimaru had given him—just to prevent damage. Watching the tiny puncture wound close almost instantly, he exhaled in relief.
Even for him, stabbing an eyeball with a needle was… unnerving.
He sealed the container and tucked it securely into his robes. Then, discreetly placing the used syringe inside his sleeve, he exited the bathroom without a sound. Being seen with something like that would definitely raise questions he didn’t want to answer.
When Itachi handed the syringe to Orochimaru, the latter took it reverently—his movements careful, practiced. He began sealing it with unfamiliar scientific instruments, whispering calculations under his breath.
“Do you still have any of Shisui’s cells? Even hair or skin fragments would do. I can extract DNA from it and begin analysis.”
