---Third POV---
After a few peaceful days, good news finally came from Orochimaru's side.
Deep inside a secluded forest, Ryouma entered a password in front of a door.
The door slid open automatically, and he stepped into what was now Konoha's most luxurious laboratory.
As usual, Orochimaru was buried in his work at the lab table, tinkering with some unknown experiment. Steam rose from various beakers and contraptions.
Hearing movement behind him, he stopped what he was doing and turned to greet Ryouma.
"You got here rather quickly."
"Of course. Only an idiot wouldn't jump at a money-making opportunity."
Orochimaru's lips twitched, why did that sound like a jab at him?
Although most of his focus had been on developing a way to mass-produce the White Zetsu healing potion, he occasionally shifted his thoughts to refining other techniques. But compared to the potential profits from this venture, those projects seemed like expensive hobbies.
Ryouma, of course, hadn't meant anything by it; he had just spoken casually. What he really cared about right now was seeing the fruits of their labor.
"What about those White Zetsu Experimental Type-1 Reagents?"
"Hehehe, no need to rush. Come with me."
With his a smile, Orochimaru gestured for Ryouma to follow.
The two of them passed through several rooms filled with bubbling apparatus and strange specimens floating in jars, until they finally stopped in front of a massive glass tank that dominated the entire chamber.
Seeing his superior and benefactor arrive, Kura quickly stopped his work, jogged over, and bowed slightly.
Ryouma gave him a small nod before turning his gaze to the huge glass container.
Inside, it was filled with a milky white liquid that glowed faintly.
Orochimaru took the initiative to explain: "This is a raw solution cultivated from White Zetsu cells combined with various other enhancement methods. Because the concentration is so high, it must be diluted into a specially formulated nutrient solution at the correct ratio before it can be safely injected into the human body."
"I see. And what about the output?"
"If diluted at a 1:10 ratio with nutrient solution, this single tank of White Zetsu cell concentrate can produce about 120,000 liters of healing potion. If we sell it in the standard 10-milliliter syringes most common in the shinobi world, then we now have..."
Orochimaru launched into a string of figures. According to his explanation, the diluted potion from this tank had only about 30% of the potency of the injection Ryouma had once used on Naruto back in Rōran.
But as a first-generation product, this level of effect was quite reasonable. Perfect, even, strong enough to be helpful, weak enough to leave room for "improved" versions later.
And with the sheer volume available, the supply was more than enough to meet the current market demand in the shinobi world. By the time this tank sold out, it would be time to roll out an upgraded second-generation product with even better results.
As for cost, most of it came from the resources consumed to cultivate White Zetsu cells. But compared with the price that Ryouma and Orochimaru had already agreed on, the profit margin was enormous. They'd be swimming in money.
Ryouma was very satisfied. He turned to Kura and instructed, "Prepare some samples for me. Make the packaging look professional, I need to take them for official certification."
"Yes, Ryouma-sama!"
Kura had been working under Orochimaru for a while now. While it was unrealistic to expect him to become a brilliant research assistant, he was at least competent enough to operate the lab's basic equipment without blowing anything up.
Within just a few minutes, he had skillfully prepared ten syringes. Taking these with him, Ryouma gave a farewell and left Orochimaru's lab.
---
In the Hokage's office, Minato was focused on handling the village's various administrative tasks.
Although Ryouma served as his advisor, most of the paperwork was still managed by Minato himself. Only when he ran into thorny issues he wasn't confident about would he call Ryouma in to discuss them.
The office was quiet, filled only with the soft scratching of pen on paper and the occasional rustle of documents.
Suddenly, BANG!
The door to the Hokage's office was flung open.
From the sound alone, Minato could already guess who it was. He set aside his work, stood up, and said: "You're here—"
Before he could finish, Tsunade slammed her palm down on the desk, rattling all the documents on it and nearly spilling his tea.
"Minato, I've recently gotten hold of something good, and I want to sell it in Konoha. Hurry up and grant me an official license."
"Uh..." Minato looked troubled. "Could you at least let me see what it is you plan to sell first?"
If it were just everyday goods the villagers needed, or even handicrafts, Tsunade could sell them anywhere in Konoha without any special approval.
But when it came to ninja supplies, like soldier pills, medical bandages, or weapons, that required the Hokage's authorization. And given her... explosive personality, it could be anything.
And it was precisely because of this that Ryouma had come along with her to meet Minato.
Ryouma set a briefcase down on the desk. With two clicks, the latches opened, revealing nine syringes of White Zetsu healing potion inside.
The reason there were nine instead of ten was because, before coming here, Tsunade had wanted to test the product herself. At the hospital, she had found a patient, explained the situation, obtained consent, and administered one dose in advance.
After carefully observing the patient's condition for several hours, she couldn't help but sigh in admiration, Orochimaru really was a genius, even if he was a creepy bastard.
The potion not only healed external injuries but even repaired damaged internal organs. And unlike traditional medicines made from herbs, which worked by stimulating the body's own immune system, this potion seemed more like it directly infused life force into the body, accelerating recovery from within.
If she hadn't been certain that Orochimaru had never seen her "Creation Rebirth" technique, she would have suspected he had somehow copied her work.
In short, she was very satisfied with this product, and as a result, even Orochimaru suddenly seemed much more tolerable.
Minato, however, was unaware of the specific details of Orochimaru and Ryouma's research. His gaze swept over the injections inside the briefcase, and he asked curiously, "Is this some kind of medical supply?"
After all, if Tsunade herself was personally involved, it was either due to a conflict at a casino, or it had something to do with medicine.
Ryouma's reply confirmed his guess.
"This is Orochimaru-senpai's latest research achievement, a very effective therapeutic injection."
Tsunade pulled out a syringe from the case, idly twirling it in her hand as she added, "That's right. And this drug has already passed Konoha Hospital's strict safety tests, ensuring it won't have any harmful effects on the human body. So hurry up and approve our sales permit."
The shelves in Konoha's pharmacies were bare, just waiting to be filled with these injections.
"Don't be in such a rush."
Of course, Minato deeply trusted Ryouma and Tsunade's judgment, but procedures were procedures. He slowly walked over to a cabinet, took out a folder, then turned back toward Tsunade and said, "According to regulations, as Hokage, I must review the effects of this injection and any possible side effects, and record them in detail before issuing a sales permit."
This regulation was not established by Minato himself, but rather back in the early days of Konoha, when Tobirama, assisting Hashirama in managing the village, had drawn it up.
At that time, many ninja clans who were not known for battle but rather for making tools or pharmaceuticals had, out of admiration for the First Hokage's vision, come to join Konoha.
To put it plainly, they came to ride coattails, nothing shameful about it.
And in order to effectively manage these clans, and to avoid situations where medicines bore different names despite having identical effects, which could lead to destructive competition, Tobirama devoted great effort to drafting a series of commercial regulations for Konoha.
Even after he himself succeeded his Hashirama as Hokage, these regulations continued to be refined and detailed, ensuring that Konoha's commercial activities developed within an orderly framework.
In short, the rules of the predecessors couldn't be changed: only with rules could there be order.
Minato sat back down at his desk, opened the folder, and wrote today's date on a blank page. Then he raised his head to look at Tsunade.
"Well then, let's begin with the procedure. Is that alright, Lady Tsunade?"
Although Minato's tone remained gentle, for some reason, faced with his sudden shift into a formal and authoritative demeanor, Tsunade felt a faint, inexplicable guilt.
"...Ask away."
"Don't worry, they're just some simple questions," Minato reassured her with a smile. "First, may I ask, what is the name of this injection?"
"Name?" Tsunade froze for a moment, then glanced over at Ryouma.
Tilting his head thoughtfully, Ryouma said, "In the lab, we've always referred to it by the code Orochimaru-senpai gave it. But now that it's going to be officially sold, we do need a more fitting name."
"Oh!"
A sudden gleam appeared in Minato's eyes. Clearing his throat, he suggested: "If possible, would you like to hear my idea for a name?"
"Oh!" Ryouma clapped his hands immediately. "Of course! To be honest, I'm terrible at naming things. With you helping us, I can rest easy."
"No way!" Tsunade suddenly cut in.
Memories of being tormented by the strange naming sense of both Minato and Ryouma flashed through her mind. She quickly waved her hands in refusal:
"Leave the naming to me. You two can't be trusted with it."
Hearing her words, Ryouma and Minato exchanged a glance, both showing an expression of regret.
You two are actually disappointed about this?!
Suppressing the urge to snap at them, Tsunade thought for a moment before offering a name.
"Let's call it Revita-Inject. There's no need to make the name overly complic—"
"Tsk—"
She suddenly stopped mid-sentence, frowning. "Hey, Ryouma, did you just click your tongue at me?"
"How could I?" Ryouma flashed a carefree smile, gave Tsunade a thumbs-up.
Meanwhile, Minato just shook his head lightly as he quickly wrote the name "Revita-Inject" onto the record sheet, before continuing with the procedure:
"You mentioned that this injection doesn't have any notable side effects, correct? Then could you please summarize its treatment range and effectiveness?"
Casting a fierce glare at Ryouma, Tsunade resumed cooperating with Minato's questioning.
"This injection covers a wide treatment range, but its main effects are focused on healing external injuries and internal organ ailments. For example, with something like a normal weapon wound, a single dose of this injection provides both rapid healing and blood restoration, and even grants a slight recovery of chakra."
Tsunade waited proudly for Minato's reaction.
And naturally, he wouldn't let her words fall flat. He promptly praised: "Oh, such wide-ranging effects? That's incredible."
Scratch, scratch, scratch...
The sound of a pen swiftly moving across paper echoed through the office.
Minato quickly finished recording the information for Revita-Inject, returned the folder to its place, then picked up a scroll. After stamping it with the Hokage's official seal, he handed it to Tsunade with both hands.
"Then, here is the sales permit. I hope this medicine will gain the villagers' trust and approval."
"Of course it will!" Tsunade took the scroll, slapping Minato's shoulder heavily.
Click, click.
Ryouma closed the briefcase.
"Captain Minato, tomorrow I'm planning to take Obito with me to Iwa and Kumo to expand the market. If anything urgent comes up, just contact me using the alert scroll."
"Oh?" Minato raised an eyebrow with interest. "Looks like you're aiming quite high."
"Not really. I'm not interested in money. I just want everyone in the shinobi world to have access to good medicine."
Ryouma could say something so blatantly hypocritical with a straight face, without blushing or skipping a beat. The man had turned bullshitting into an art form.
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