This time, Diarmuid did not resist the pull of the summoning.
Almost instantly, his soul sensed a path through the boundless darkness, guiding him like a beacon. Once he perceived this "road," Diarmuid focused his will and surged along it.
The transition was jarring; one moment he was in the infinite void, and the next, he had snapped back to the living world. There was no gradual transition or buffer, just a sudden, violent return.
What's more, this return sent him directly back into his physical body.
Diarmuid slowly opened his eyes, meeting the expectant gazes of Orochimaru and Sasori. He spoke with a hint of bewilderment, "That was fast. I felt like I'd barely been there for ten minutes before I received your summons. It seems time in the Pure Land flows quite differently than I imagined. That loss of temporal concept is truly terrifying."
As he spoke, however, Diarmuid noticed something off. Why is there still a scent of fresh blood?
He looked down and saw the prisoner's corpse still sprawled on the ground nearby.
Diarmuid: "???"
There was no way Orochimaru and Sasori would leave a corpse rotting for half a month without cleaning it up. Furthermore, the body showed no signs of decay, and the blood on the floor was still a vivid crimson.
What the hell?
Diarmuid looked up at the two of them. As expected, their expressions were slightly awkward. Before Diarmuid could even ask, Orochimaru straightened his posture and put on a serious face.
"Your feeling wasn't wrong," Orochimaru stated firmly. "In fact, only about ten minutes have passed."
"Ahem. Yes," Sasori added with a nod.
Diarmuid: "???"
"Then why did you summon me back? Are you two out of your minds?" Diarmuid cursed, exasperated.
Orochimaru thought to himself: Do you really expect me to tell you I was just curious? That would utterly ruin my cold and aloof image.
Instead, Orochimaru spoke with righteous conviction: "We were concerned for your safety. After all, we didn't know if you could sense the summons from within the Pure Land. I deemed it necessary to test the connection immediately. It's better to find out now than to wait until it's too late to stage a rescue should something go wrong."
Sasori nodded solemnly. "Exactly. We had to ensure your safety above all else."
"..."
Diarmuid's cheek twitched. The logic was sound, but he didn't believe for a second that these two were being altruistic. These bastards were definitely just curious!
"I'll believe that when pigs fly!" Diarmuid grumbled.
However, he soon cracked a smile. "Regardless, this proves my theory was correct. Reanimation can provide a sufficient signal to prevent me from losing my sense of time. This significantly guarantees my safety, and I can now explore the Pure Land with peace of mind."
Orochimaru nodded, then asked, "What is the Pure Land like? Tell us. Lord Second didn't describe it in his notes, is it because it's 'unspeakable'?"
Diarmuid frowned, searching his memory. "The Pure Land is..."
He paused, checking his inner state. He found no "rules" or metaphysical gag orders preventing him from describing the world of the dead. He stroked his chin in silence.
Orochimaru and Sasori stood frozen, and even Kabuto, standing to the side, felt his heart race with curiosity.
"You stopped halfway. Is it because you aren't allowed to speak of it?" Orochimaru asked, surprised. Is it that mystical?
Diarmuid shook his head. "No, I don't feel any mysterious power stopping me from detailing the Pure Land."
"Then why did you stop?"
"Ahem... I just realized that the reason Tobirama didn't describe the Pure Land is likely because... well, there's basically nothing to say," Diarmuid said, sounding a bit embarrassed.
Sasori asked, "What do you mean?"
"I was only in there for ten minutes, so I haven't truly mapped it out yet. But based on my perception, the Pure Land is a void. Absolute darkness. You can't feel anything, no senses, only the movement of your own thoughts. Furthermore, the Pure Land seems to be composed of pure Spirit Particles. These particles, saturated with the essence of the afterlife, exert a subtle influence on the soul, gradually stagnating one's thoughts. That is likely where the loss of time begins. Fortunately, the Spirit Transformation Jutsu allows one to resist this. As for what lies deeper, I don't know yet."
Sasori didn't quite grasp the technicalities, but the description gave him a conceptual image: a vast, black nothingness.
Orochimaru pondered in silence for a while. "Perhaps the Pure Land is naturally a void. You saw that the soul of the deceased is in a state of confusion upon death. Entering the Pure Land in such a state would naturally lead to muddled thoughts. By the time a soul snaps out of that chaos, it has already been influenced by the Spirit Particles. Their consciousness and thoughts would become sluggish or even stop. That explains why those summoned via Reanimation often feel a sense of 'transience' or disorientation regarding how much time has passed."
Diarmuid nodded. "That makes sense. It's very likely."
But it didn't matter. Even if the Pure Land held fewer secrets than imagined, the fact that it could accelerate the training of the Spirit Transformation Jutsu and rapidly bolster his soul strength was enough to entice Diarmuid.
Besides, this was just Orochimaru's theory. Diarmuid remembered that in his own memories, when Kakashi briefly died during Pain's assault on Konoha, he met the soul of his father, Hatake Sakumo, the White Fang. The two talked extensively, resolving many of Kakashi's inner conflicts. That was vastly different from the void he had just experienced.
Therefore, Diarmuid believed there were places in the Pure Land beyond the darkness; he just hadn't found them yet. His method of entry was different from a "guided" death; he might have just taken a wrong turn. It's not like I have a GPS!
Brushing these thoughts aside, Diarmuid said enthusiastically, "Alright, enough talk. That's all I know for now. I haven't had a proper look around yet. Kabuto! Quick, bring me another death row prisoner to open the door!"
Kabuto felt a bit of a "toothache" at the request. Good grief, isn't this method of entering the Pure Land a bit too expensive? Does every door-opening require a life as a sacrifice?
He grumbled internally but didn't dare protest. It wasn't his life, after all; these were criminals destined for execution. Using them as "recycled waste" was perfectly logical. In the shinobi world, there wasn't much room for humanitarian sentiment.
"Yes, Diarmuid-sama," Kabuto replied quickly.
He soon returned with another prisoner. Following the established procedure, they once again opened the entrance to the Pure Land. Diarmuid's soul dived back in.
Watching Diarmuid's motionless body, Orochimaru turned to Sasori. "A month? Or half a month?"
"How long can his body hold out without food?" Sasori asked.
"I don't know," Orochimaru shook his head. "And there's no need to find out the hard way."
"Then... are you going to feed him? What if he needs to use the bathroom?" Sasori asked after a silence, staring at Orochimaru.
Orochimaru: "???"
Is your train of thought always this bizarre?
"...Actually, that is a valid concern," Orochimaru admitted.
"Should we just turn him into a human puppet? No need for food, water, or bathrooms," Sasori suggested.
"And when he wakes up, he'll tear you into eight pieces," Orochimaru retorted.
Sasori: "...Fair point."
"Forget it. We'll leave his care to Ameri. She can give him water and Food Pills; that should keep him satiated. As for the other matter... we'll leave that to fate," Orochimaru decided, passing the buck.
Sasori looked at him and nodded. "That makes sense."
As a member of the Yorozuya, Ameri wasn't exactly a powerhouse. She had learned some Paper Release secrets, but she mostly served as a companion for Diarmuid, playing music for him when he was in the mood. Most of the time, she used her noble upbringing to manage the affairs of Amegakure. It wouldn't hurt for her to look after Diarmuid on the side.
…
Meanwhile, at the border of the Land of Fire, several unidentified shinobi were fleeing.
"Damn it! How did the intel leak? There's a traitor among us! The Konoha Anbu anticipated our move!" one shinobi cursed as he leaped through the trees.
Suddenly, the tree he landed on was blasted to splinters by a bolt of lightning. A masked figure with silver hair surged forward, a bolt of electricity in his hand piercing the shinobi's chest.
"Hatake Kakashi..." the shinobi gasped before dying.
In truth, with Kakashi's current fame, he wasn't really suited for Anbu work anymore. His silver hair and signature Chidori were dead giveaways to anyone with even a passing knowledge of Konoha. However, Kakashi was efficient, he rarely left survivors, which served as its own form of identity protection.
While Kakashi eliminated one target, the other fleeing shinobi panicked and scattered in different directions. However, a large number of Anbu members appeared, surrounding and eliminating them.
One of them appeared quite small in stature, likely very young, but his strikes were incredibly precise. In moments, he had cut down three enemy shinobi with his blade.
The Anbu squad soon finished the slaughter, eliminating all enemies who had infiltrated the Land of Fire. The young, lethal swordsman walked over to Kakashi and removed his mask.
"Kakashi-senpai."
"Ah, Itachi? Good work out there," Kakashi smiled, removing his own mask.
Indeed, this lethal young Anbu was Uchiha Itachi. He had entered the Academy at six, graduated at seven, awakened his Sharingan at eight, passed the Chunin Exams alone at ten, and joined the Anbu at eleven. He was currently Kakashi's subordinate.
Kakashi had always been considered a prodigy, but looking at Itachi, he felt the boy was practically "cheating."
"I noticed earlier... that even though you could have killed the enemy immediately, you prioritized protecting your comrade," Itachi said suddenly.
Kakashi looked at him curiously. "What about it?"
"In your eyes, senpai... which is more important? The mission, or your comrades? If the two were in conflict, what would you..." Itachi continued.
Before he could finish, Kakashi answered without a hint of hesitation:
"I would absolutely protect my comrades!"