Chapter 388: Two Villains, Each With Their Own Schemes
"Hueco Mundo, is it?"
Orochimaru chewed over the words,
then opened his mouth to spit out a nearly shattered, bone-crafted mask that was still crumbling at the edges.
This was Aizen's gift—
a hollow mask brought at great cost from Hueco Mundo to the shinobi world.
However…
due to differences in world laws, Aizen, despite his best efforts, couldn't stop the mask from decaying.
Fortunately, Orochimaru had guessed right.
As a necromancer, he was naturally intrigued by Hollows, especially one like this mask, which came from a powerful Adjuchas.
"Hollows… are there many beings like this in Hueco Mundo?"
Orochimaru's lips curled as his serpent-like golden eyes reflected Aizen's silhouette.
He didn't mind being used.
Just like when he calmly accepted Danzo's recruitment back then—did he not know Danzo would eventually betray him?
Of course he did.
But Orochimaru didn't care.
What mattered to him was only what piqued his interest. As for shackles of ideology like the Will of Fire, the immortality of flesh, or being reviled as a traitor?
None of that concerned him.
"Enough to satisfy your research, Orochimaru."
Aizen pushed up his glasses. The reflection on the lenses hid his eyes.
A deliberately vague answer.
In truth,
while the atmosphere of their conversation seemed cordial, both were probing one another.
Orochimaru, the former enemy who had once destroyed Konoha, stood boldly on the Hokage Building, exuding death energy without even attempting to hide it.
One word from Aizen to the Shadow Organization or any other ninja,
and the deal would fall apart.
A partner who couldn't even suppress Orochimaru's presence wasn't worth negotiating with.
And yet,
the streets below bustled with life—thanks to Aizen's efforts, Konoha had regained its vigor—and no one noticed what was happening on the rooftop.
Though Orochimaru appeared to be considering,
he had already made his decision the moment he arrived.
He chuckled, his voice raspy. "Breaking through the barrier between dimensions, hmm? A bold and reckless plan."
"Even in another world, I'd wager you're still an outsider, aren't you, Aizen?"
"That's rather rude. I was a respected Captain of the Gotei 13, tasked with protecting the Soul Society. My colleagues adored me."
In the end,
Aizen secured Orochimaru's cooperation in exchange for five Adjuchas-grade hollow materials per month.
He looked down at his palm—
a small cursed snake bit into it, a mark Orochimaru called a communication sigil.
Three black tomoe, rotating.
If Anko Mitarashi were here, she would have gone berserk on the spot.
Heaven's Curse Mark.
Once branded, one could never escape Orochimaru's control. In fact, he could even reincarnate inside the branded individual.
And this curse mark wasn't like the one in the original story.
This one fused with Orochimaru's necromantic understanding, making it vastly more powerful.
"A parlor trick."
Aizen remained calm, his body glowing faintly white as he exited his physical shell—revealing his true form as a spiritual entity.
The gigai collapsed.
The curse mark on his palm vanished.
He looked again and saw that even outside the body,
the black tomoe remained, seemingly rooted into his very soul.
"How fascinating, Orochimaru."
No panic. No fear.
A rare spark flickered in Aizen's ever-gentle eyes as he laughed. "I truly look forward to our partnership."
Elsewhere—
A black snake covered in scales and runes appeared beside Orochimaru, trailing summoning smoke.
"Orochimaru-sama, the vanguard discovered a gold-tier corrupted zombie. They can't defeat it."
The subordinate spoke with awe.
This was the man who had destroyed Konoha with thunderous might, uplifted common-born shinobi, and transformed a ninja village into a ninja empire.
The strongest in the shinobi world.
"Understood. Send me the coordinates. I'll take care of it."
Orochimaru smiled.
Despite the aura of death he exuded, his unique charisma was undeniable.
He wasn't like Sarutobi Hiruzen—indecisive and sentimental.
Nor like Danzo—who turned ninjas into emotionless weapons.
He was more like a mentor who tailored his teachings, uncovering the full value of those under him.
"This meeting is adjourned."
As the others left one by one,
Orochimaru's smile faded slightly as he stared at the cursed snake brought via summoning.
These snakes
were products of necromancy, each carrying part of his will—extensions of his body.
"So… Aizen. Such a crude trick. How disappointing…"
The snake that had negotiated with Aizen
had been placed under a light illusion—capable of manipulating the five senses, but far too shallow to fool Orochimaru.
A necromancer,
even when weak and only capable of stitching a few skeletons together, could slowly and quietly build an undead army if not killed outright.
Now, Orochimaru had reached the point where he could demonstrate the full power of the Sea of Undeath.
The snake used for communication
was one of the weakest in his army—created effortlessly.
Snap.
With a flick of his finger, Orochimaru crushed the snake Aizen had enchanted with Kyoka Suigetsu, bursting it into a mist of blood.
But to his surprise,
the illusion's energy didn't vanish.
Like a parasitic worm,
it traced the faintest thread of mental contact, trying to latch onto Orochimaru's mind.
At the crucial moment,
he broke his pinky finger, infused it with necromantic energy, and created a new cursed snake.
Buzz.
The illusion transferred to the freshly made snake.
"Hahahaha…"
Orochimaru let out a sudden laugh. "I underestimated you, Aizen-kun. My apologies."
…
Meanwhile, in the Fourth Fleet of the Navy Alliance—
Aokiji looked helplessly at the [General's Tomb] on the game map, already claimed by another party.
By common player etiquette,
whoever discovered a monster lair first had claim to it.
This rule existed to prevent player-on-player conflict, as the game's punishment system severely penalized excessive infighting.
And the Navy, known for embodying the [Will of Justice], adhered to those rules strictly.
However…
The zombie within the tomb was a dark gold-tier boss—Ghost General.
And the ones who discovered the site first were none other than their enemies:
The Straw Hat Pirates.
This complicated things.
When the rules got blurry, people like Aokiji hesitated.
Someone like Akainu wouldn't.
He'd have already launched Magma Meteor Shower to take control.
"It's been a while, Nico Robin."
Aokiji exhaled a breath of icy mist,
his gaze landing on the Demon Child shielded by the Straw Hats.
He hadn't expected
that the orphan from Ohara—the one he let escape—would not only become a player, but stand on the opposite side.
Memories of Ohara came flooding back—
the fire, the destruction, the colleague who tried to stop him and whom he had killed with his own hands…
He felt more lost than ever.
How, exactly, was he supposed to uphold the Will of Justice?
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