Chapter 122: Weighing the Pros and Cons — Orochimaru
"What a unique painting! The perspective is absolutely incredible."
"Look at the lighting and shadows. It's so realistic. It's almost as if you're lying on the ground and seeing it with your own eyes."
"Why does this painting look like a pile of crap to me?"
"...?"
"Don't you know how to appreciate art?"
"This is obviously a scoop of ice cream that fell on the ground. Brother Zetsu was inspired by his previous encounter with an old man and created it."
"Is this really ice cream?"
"Of course! Look at how it's melting, and you can even see the cold air drifting around it."
"Hahahaha~"
Listening to the flattery around him and the hearty laughter of some idiot, Madara slowly opened his eyes while lying back in his chair.
He didn't even need to look to know that the idiot, White Zetsu, had already become completely immersed in the children's praise.
Apparently, some of his previous assumptions had been too simplistic.
The assimilation ability of Hashirama's cells was even more powerful than he had imagined.
These children had gone blind at far too young an age. Clearly, what they were looking at was a pile of steaming—
"Lord Madara!"
White Zetsu grinned and walked over to Madara, bending down to whisper,
"It's your turn."
"Hmm."
Uchiha Madara grunted softly and stood up before walking beneath the shade of a nearby tree.
At this moment, many Uchiha children had gathered beneath the tree. Most of them were only two or three years old, dressed in matching clan attire as they happily ate snacks.
The children chatted in small groups, sharing their treats and laughing constantly. Their childish voices filled the air as they discussed amusing things that had happened recently or where they would go to play that evening.
Amid this cheerful atmosphere, Madara felt an unusual sense of comfort and tranquility.
The air was exceptionally fresh, and the sunlight was warm.
This beautiful afternoon felt strangely similar to the "peace" he had been seeking for so many years.
"They're really lively."
Uchiha Madara looked at the children who had yet to "lose their loved ones," their lively and adorable personalities still intact. His expression gradually became solemn.
"Quiet."
Nearby, White Zetsu lay sprawled across the table and glanced toward the shade.
A handsome man with long, flowing hair slowly walked beneath the tree.
He frowned slightly as he surveyed the bustling crowd beneath it, his eyes carrying a hint of impatience and arrogance.
The effect was immediate.
The cheerful atmosphere beneath the tree gradually froze, and a faint autumn chill seemed to permeate the air. The children fell silent one after another, staring blankly at the man.
Crack!
The scene before White Zetsu shattered like glass, slowly dissolving into dust.
He looked at the elderly Uchiha Madara again and fell into deep thought.
"He really is Madara-sama."
A man this arrogant and condescending, someone who looked down on all living things, had actually used killing intent to intimidate his nominal descendants.
[...]
"Everything you try to protect, no matter what it is—your friends, your brothers, even your descendants—will eventually be lost."
Madara continued speaking words that children of their age could never understand.
White Zetsu slowly lay back down on the table and closed his eyes.
He realized that Madara-sama was making preparations for the future.
Hmm.
He must be planning something.
The sun gradually sank toward the horizon.
"Wake up."
Uchiha Madara looked at the sleeping White Zetsu and instinctively frowned. He gently nudged his shoulder.
"Idiot, get up. Get up for this old man."
Bang!
He slapped the table, startling White Zetsu awake, and said coldly,
"Idiot."
"Huh?"
White Zetsu scratched his head. He glanced at the setting sun in the distance, then at Madara's slightly gloomy expression before smiling.
"Madara-sama, I dreamed that your plan had succeeded while I was asleep just now."
"Hmph!"
Madara snorted and sat down beside him, closing his eyes.
"How's the plan progressing?"
"Very smoothly!"
White Zetsu thought of Black Zetsu, who was carrying out the plan with all his might. He nodded vigorously and gave Madara a sincere thumbs-up.
"Madara-sama, your will has always inspired us to work tirelessly, day and night, to carry out your instructions."
"He has already discovered Orochimaru's temporary hideout and plans to bring him before Nagato."
"What about Obito?"
"Hehe. Obito has been very busy lately. He's already gone to find Sasori of the Red Sand."
"Obito thinks you've been dead for a long time and has recently begun operating under the name 'Madara.'"
"And Asuka?"
"He'll be entering the Land of Rain soon."
Hearing this, White Zetsu scratched his head, sounding somewhat confused.
"Madara-sama, when can we finally lure him into the darkness?"
The corner of Uchiha Madara's cheek twitched.
That child was somewhat different from what he had expected.
He had been completely unaffected by Konoha's darker side.
This had forced Madara to change his strategy.
After a moment of silence, Uchiha Madara gently tapped his toes against the ground, causing the chair to slowly rock back and forth.
Then he said,
"This old man told him that if he doesn't want his descendants to experience war as he did, or awaken the Sharingan by witnessing the deaths of their comrades, then he should seek the light of the shinobi world and find a way to end war."
"Besides, not long ago, this old man also taught him an improved version of the genjutsu."
After hearing this, White Zetsu looked at Madara suspiciously.
How was the current Madara-sama different from the decisive Madara-sama of Obito's era?
After thinking for a moment, White Zetsu blinked and asked in confusion,
"Madara-sama, will this really work?"
Madara shook his head.
"How would this old man know?"
White Zetsu remained unmoved and continued pressing him.
"Madara-sama, what if this doesn't work?"
Uchiha Madara opened his eyes and glared disdainfully at the man who wouldn't stop talking.
"This old man has less than three months left to live. By then, he will already be dead. Are you asking this old man about the future?"
"Then who should I ask?"
"Whoever represents this old man in the future, go ask him yourself."
White Zetsu lowered his head and pondered for a while.
Then his eyes suddenly brightened as he looked at Uchiha Madara.
"Madara-sama, what if this doesn't work?"
"Get lost!"
"Stay away from this old man!"
The border region between the Land of Fire and the Land of Rice Fields consisted of endless mountain ranges, with scattered villages nestled at their feet.
A group of villagers looked up at the distant mountains. Their expressions shifted from surprise to fear, and then from fear to numbness.
An hour later, even the numbness had disappeared from their faces. They picked up their hoes and returned to their farm work.
"Sigh. At first, I thought the Mountain God was angry because we'd gone into the mountains to hunt. Turns out it was just a 'dry thunderstorm.'"
"What kind of 'dry thunderstorm' lasts this long?"
"The sky is completely clear. There's not even the slightest sign of rain, yet the thunder keeps coming from the other side of the mountain. Isn't that a dry thunderstorm?"
"Does a dry thunderstorm where you're from last two hours? There must be shinobi fighting over there."
"Those shinobi are really tough. They've been fighting for more than two hours and still have plenty of energy."
Meanwhile.
On the other side of the mountain.
A middle-aged man knelt on the ground, panting heavily as black smoke rose from his body.
He had lived for thirty-eight years.
Never once had he experienced such an exhilarating yet frustrating one-on-one battle.
He had encountered shinobi who could fly before. The Tsuchikage of Iwagakure was one of them.
Although fighting Ōnoki while he was flying through the air had been somewhat frustrating, when he was in peak condition, he could still contend with Ōnoki in certain aspects.
But...
Orochimaru looked up at the white wings behind the woman and the paper ball she was kneading in her hand. His soot-blackened face grew even darker.
Manda was still arguing with someone and refusing to come out.
His own injuries were quite severe, and his strength had been greatly reduced. In a one-on-one fight, he had no advantage whatsoever.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Pakura approaching them.
Orochimaru slowly stood up, sinking into thought.
"Let alone a two-on-one fight."
Seeing Orochimaru raise his head and look at her with a strange light in his eyes, Konan didn't hesitate.
She threw the paper ball in her hand, roughly the size of a hydrangea, straight at him.
Whoosh!
Seeing the glowing paper hydrangea flying toward him, Orochimaru had no intention of catching it.
He endured the pain in his right foot, stomped down, and leapt diagonally to the left.
Boom!
The moment the paper ball hit the ground, a small mushroom cloud rose into the air.
A tremendous shockwave swept up sand and blasted it straight into Orochimaru's face, causing him to instinctively narrow his eyes.
One hundred thousand explosive tags would be enough to arm an entire squad of shinobi.
Yet every single one of them was being used on him alone.
"Orochimaru, we sincerely invite you to join our organization."
Hearing the clear, cold female voice from above, and considering the enormous financial resources of his opponent, Orochimaru's heart trembled.
He shook his head and replied hoarsely,
"I'm not interested in you."
Konan lowered her head and looked at Pakura standing on the ground.
"Do you remember what you told me about 'melons' last time?"
"Melons?"
After thinking for a moment, Pakura lightly slapped her left palm against her right hand in realization.
"You mean the Asuka incident?"
Konan nodded.
"Artificially cultivated melons may not be sweet, but they can quench your thirst."
Remembering how Asuka had summed up her forced kiss the last time, Pakura subconsciously licked the corner of her mouth.
It really wasn't sweet.
Orochimaru froze for a moment before quickly reacting.
He clenched his fists slightly and coldly sized up the two women, the pain in his heel beginning to flare again.
"Looks like you're planning to take me by force."
Konan lowered her head and looked at Orochimaru coldly.
"You're right."
With that, she waved her hand.
Countless sheets of white paper once again spread across the sky like clouds.
Unlike before, there was only one difference this time...
There were simply too many sheets of paper.
Orochimaru stared at the white paper drifting through the sky. His already darkened face became even darker, black as the bottom of a cooking pot.
Another hundred thousand?
For an instant, the air seemed to freeze.
Although he was outdoors, Orochimaru felt that everything around him had become unnaturally quiet. He could even hear his own heartbeat.
Rustle. Rustle.
The soft sound of the wind brushing against the sheets of paper echoed continuously in his ears, urging him to make a decision as quickly as possible.
After a brief silence, Orochimaru suddenly understood something.
If the other side could casually produce two hundred thousand explosive tags without even blinking, then their financial resources had to be enormous.
At the very least, they were richer than Danzō.
And at the moment, Orochimaru happened to be lacking both a place to conduct his research and the funds to support it.
After weighing the situation for a while, Orochimaru made his decision.
He would leave this place and find somewhere more suitable for his research.
As for Danzō?
...Danzō would only bring him bad luck.