Diarmuid had imagined that transplanting Hashirama's cells would be a complex and arduous medical procedure.
However, once he made up his mind to try, Orochimaru didn't even make him lie down. He simply grabbed a syringe from the laboratory table and stuck it directly into Diarmuid's arm.
And that was it.
"That's it?" Diarmuid asked, looking at Orochimaru with surprise.
"Yes. Why, is there a problem?" Orochimaru replied without looking up, his eyes fixed on a small white patch forming on Diarmuid's skin.
"I thought it would be more... high-end. In the end, it's just one injection?" Diarmuid clicked his tongue, looking down at the white spot on his arm.
It seemed that transplanting the First Hokage's cells always resulted in these white patches. When Madara forcibly integrated them, he eventually manifested the literal face of Hashirama on his chest.
But as Diarmuid watched, the fingernail-sized patch began to dissipate rapidly. Within moments, it had vanished completely.
"For an ordinary person, it is indeed a complex process. But for you, that wasn't necessary." Orochimaru's lips curled into a faint smile as he saw the white spot disappear. "Just as I predicted; it aligns perfectly with the theory. After entering your body, the cells of the First Hokage encountered no resistance or rejection. Instead, they were perfectly assimilated by your own system."
The appearance of white patches usually indicates an imperfect fusion where Hashirama's cells remain "dominant." A case like Diarmuid's, where the skin returns to normal, represents a true perfect fusion. He no longer carried the physical traits of Hashirama; instead, the genetic material had been converted into his own power.
"How do you feel? A sudden surge of strength or anything?" Sasori asked, his curiosity piqued.
Diarmuid closed his eyes to feel... but felt absolutely nothing. It was as if he'd been poked with a needle for no reason.
After a long moment of internal sensing, even using the precision of Rokushiki to gauge his physical state, he opened his eyes and said blankly, "Is the dosage too low? I don't feel any change at all. Should we do another round?"
Orochimaru's grin widened. "There's no need. It's normal to feel nothing. It means your body has already 'digested' it. Given your constitution, a few more injections would yield the same result. As I said before, this is merely a seed. I have planted it within you, but whether it grows into a towering tree like the First Hokage depends entirely on you."
Diarmuid nodded, then asked humbly, "So, what do I need to do next to cultivate this 'seed'?"
"Continue as before. Try to fuse the Water and Earth natures. If you can achieve that, the cells may act as a catalyst to activate Wood Release..." Orochimaru said, looking Diarmuid in the eye.
"I see. Understood," Diarmuid replied.
With the business concluded, Orochimaru didn't linger for a farewell meal. He quickly packed the rare materials he had exchanged with Sasori and prepared to depart with effortless grace.
Much like his arrival, he intended to leave as if he were a drifting cloud, taking nothing and leaving no trace.
…
That evening, Sasori prepared a lavish meal. Without Orochimaru, the atmosphere felt considerably less lively.
When Orochimaru was there, Sasori would discuss scientific breakthroughs, and Kakuzu would often debate ninjutsu theory and strategy with him. Diarmuid had always found those conversations fascinating.
Now, Sasori sat watching Diarmuid and Kakuzu eat in a heavy, stifling silence.
Finally, as Diarmuid placed a slice of beef into his bowl, Sasori asked, "What are we doing next?"
Diarmuid looked up. "Are you done with your experiments and research?"
"I've reached a stopping point," Sasori said after a pause.
Previously, he had focused on the Uchiha Kekkei Genkai, but after exhausting the remains of Kagami, he had failed to overcome the technical hurdles. After Orochimaru arrived, the two had collaborated on the Third Raikage. Once the Human Puppet of the Raikage was completed, they had turned to Diarmuid's blood and cells, which ultimately led to a dead end.
Now that Orochimaru was gone and the experiments were over, Sasori realized he had nothing left on his "to-do" list. Thinking back, he realized he had been acting like a shut-in for months. It was time to head back into the world.
"Is that so?" Diarmuid glanced at Kakuzu. "Do you have any thoughts? I don't have any immediate plans for action."
Diarmuid considered his current state. He still hadn't fully "digested" the Lightning Release Chakra Mode or the gift Orochimaru had left him. There was no rush to find a new target.
Kakuzu shoveled a few mouthfuls of rice and said, "If you ask me... although our group is loose and lacks specific rules, shouldn't we define ourselves?"
"Define ourselves how?" Sasori asked.
"For instance, are we a study group for mutual exchange? A mercenary unit available for hire? A lawless criminal syndicate? Or should we hoist a banner of peace and act as a righteous organization? We have many options. Which do we choose?" Kakuzu looked at the two of them.
Sasori thought for a moment. "Is it necessary? I think a free-form organization is best. We do what we want without being bound by labels. If we want to study, we study. If we want to earn money, we take a contract. Whoever is interested participates."
Kakuzu nodded. "I agree. But even with a loose model, we should have an official name. Look at the Land of Rain, there's an organization called Akatsuki. Their ideology is to foster world peace through mutual understanding. Then there's the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist; the moment you hear the name, you know exactly who they are. We need that kind of branding when we're out in the world."
"Why?" Sasori asked, still unconvinced.
Kakuzu went silent for a moment, his expression darkening slightly. "For example, if we encounter an opponent, they'll introduce themselves as 'So-and-so from such-and-such.' How are we supposed to introduce ourselves?"
"Sasori of the Red Sand," Sasori said immediately.
Kakuzu's eyelid twitched. He almost slammed his rice bowl onto Sasori's head. Is that what I'm talking about?!
"Hahahaha!" Diarmuid couldn't hold it back anymore and burst into laughter.
These two were talking past each other completely!
As the other two turned their glares toward him, Diarmuid managed to gasp, "Sorry, I couldn't help it... back when I was a Marine, I received professional training in not laughing... but this is too much."
Wiping a tear from his eye, Diarmuid asked, "So, Kakuzu, what's the real reason you're so obsessed with an official name?"
Kakuzu's eyes shifted guiltily. He stuffed more rice into his mouth before muttering, "What 'real reason'? Didn't I just say? You need a banner when you're traveling. We aren't lone wolves anymore; we have an organizational structure. It's more professional. It's good for... everything. Probably."
He glanced at Diarmuid, only to find him watching with a knowing, amused smirk.
"Sigh..." Kakuzu finally relented. "Fine. I admit it. There is another purpose."
"I knew it. It's been almost a year; why would you bring this up now if there wasn't a catch?" Sasori nodded.
"What's the reason, then?" Diarmuid asked.
"Ever since I got back last time, I've noticed that most shinobi contracts are going to organized, large-scale groups. The era of the lone wandering ninja taking big jobs is fading," Kakuzu explained.
"Speak plainly," Diarmuid said, rolling his eyes.
"Ahem. Famous organizations can charge significantly higher commissions for the same mission than an individual can," Kakuzu cleared his throat.
"So you just want to make more money? Why didn't you just say that?" Sasori said, annoyed. Why waste all this time beating around the bush? It doesn't fit your money-grubbing image at all!
What Sasori didn't realize was that while Kakuzu was usually blunt about money, this affected everyone. He had tried to be "tactful" to make the idea more palatable. It was just awkward that neither Diarmuid nor Sasori appreciated the sentiment.
"Since there's a financial incentive and we do technically exist as a group, we do need a name," Diarmuid mused. "Otherwise, when we do 'business,' we can't just say, 'Hi, I'm Sasori of the Red Sand, and my hobbies are singing and dancing...'"
While Sasori didn't catch the reference in the second half, he understood the first part. He imagined a Jonin of Konoha introducing himself with pride, while he just sounded like a vagrant. It was a bit embarrassing.
"Exactly," Kakuzu supported.
"Our group is about exchanging knowledge, mutual aid, and common progress. Since we're a small group, let's call it a 'Study Group.' How about... the Azure Dragon Study Group?" Diarmuid suggested.
As he said it, his eyes were full of nostalgia. He remembered his life before he transmigrated, when he was just a student during the height of Hong Kong triad movies. All the kids were forming "gangs" with their friends. He had formed a "gang" with a fierce name: the Azure Dragon Society.
Unfortunately, the class monitor reported him to the teacher the next day. Under the teacher's terrifying pressure, the "Azure Dragon Society" had been forcibly rebranded as the "Azure Dragon Study Group."
A legendary boss had fallen that day.
Sasori and Kakuzu both looked at Diarmuid as if he were an idiot. After a silent exchange of looks, Kakuzu asked Sasori, "Do you have any good ideas?"
"No," Sasori said bluntly. "But since you proposed it, you must have one."
Kakuzu nodded. "Internally, we don't need much, and we don't have a rigid goal. But for external purposes, given our nature, I've thought it over. What about... Yorozuya?"
"Hey! Are you two even listening? The Azure Dragon Study Group! Isn't it great? Besides, I'm technically the boss of this group, right? Shouldn't you listen to me?" Diarmuid shouted.
"You're the one who said there were no hierarchies here," Kakuzu said, rolling his eyes.
Even though there was no formal rank, they had all tacitly accepted Diarmuid as the leader. He was the one who had invited Sasori and Orochimaru, a task only a leader has the authority to do. By accepting the invitation, they had unconsciously acknowledged his status.
Diarmuid's insistence on "no hierarchy" was just his way of ensuring these eccentric geniuses didn't feel stifled. He didn't need to use his status to suppress them, and it was better to keep things friendly.