"Orochimaru-sama, I've seen genetic anomalies in Kirigakure ninja before... individuals possessing two or three distinct Bloodline Limits. This implies that the biological potential of the human body isn't strictly restricted to a single mutation," Kiyohara replied smoothly. "I've considered attempting to force a secondary mutation, but the cellular complexity is... difficult."
"I'm currently theorizing that if I could forcefully incorporate my Lightning affinity into my existing mutation, perhaps I could artificially develop stronger electromagnetic manipulation. Or, conversely, combine my Earth affinity with my Yang Release to see if I can genetically strengthen standard Earth Release."
Hearing this cold, clinical ambition, even Kakashi turned his head from the window, his lone eye revealing a look of surprise.
Kakashi originally thought engineering the Chidori entirely from scratch at his age was impressive enough. He hadn't expected his classmate to be contemplating literal genetic engineering. Kiyohara was actually thinking about manually synthesizing new Bloodline Limits.
"Kiyohara," Minato spoke up, his voice gentle but serious. "Developing new elemental ninjutsu is an excellent pursuit. But attempting to artificially create a Bloodline Limit is too dangerous. I've spent three grueling years constantly testing and refining chakra spin just to develop a single, non-elemental jutsu (the Rasengan). Since Bloodline Limits involve permanent changes at the genetic, cellular level, the difficulty and the risk of biological collapse are on a completely different, apocalyptic scale."
Orochimaru, however, had a fundamentally different, far darker opinion.
He looked at the boy. Were Kiyohara's ancestors truly just civilian commoners?
Decades ago, before the Hidden Villages were even established during the Warring States period, in which country did Kiyohara's bloodline reside? What kind of terrifying, dormant genetic traits had his ancestors awakened in forgotten history?
All of this was unknown.
Orochimaru found that Konoha rarely recorded actual history accurately. For example, a god-like man named Madara Uchiha had literally named the village alongside Hashirama, yet the official archives regarding his true abilities and history were intentionally vague and scarce. Only a few decades had passed, and Hashirama and Madara were already treated like mythological, exaggerated figures rather than flesh and blood.
Although Kurenai and Rin didn't quite possess the scientific background to understand these genetic theories, they could hear how startling Kiyohara's ambitions were.
"It's just a theoretical attempt. Besides, the intense chakra control required is also good practice for refining my standard nature transformations," Kiyohara laughed softly, his words a calculated mix of truth and lies.
He was deliberately planting a psychological seed in everyone's minds right now.
Casually displaying his mastery over different chakra natures along the journey, as well as discussing genetic fusion, was actually a form of deep psychological conditioning.
By planting this seed, he was setting a precedent.
This way, when Kiyohara inevitably displayed multiple, vastly different Bloodline Limits inherited from the Urn later on, his peers wouldn't suspect him of stealing them or being possessed. They would simply marvel at his obsessive hard work, or naturally assume his civilian bloodline possessed a bizarre, multi-mutation anomaly like Mei Terumī.
Kiyohara's ultimate goal was to continuously, flawlessly rationalize his growing arsenal.
Ninja, even with the god-like power of chakra, are essentially still human. They are paranoid, they jump to conclusions, and they rationalize anomalies to fit their worldview.
Orochimaru suddenly burst into laughter. His raspy laugh echoed in the enclosed carriage with a strange, chilling sense of pleasure.
"Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating, Kiyohara. This ambition of yours... I like it very much," Orochimaru leaned forward, his golden vertical pupils staring intently into Kiyohara's black eyes.
"I have perfectly mastered all basic chakra nature transformations. Theoretically, I possess the required elements to attempt the fusion of any known Bloodline Limit. But in reality, I haven't successfully created a single new one within my own body. Do you know why?"
Kiyohara shook his head.
"Because a Bloodline Limit isn't merely the fusion of two chakra natures," Orochimaru's voice grew low and hypnotic. "It involves the physical body's genetic adaptability to volatile chakra, the expression of dormant DNA factors, and even compatibility at the metaphysical soul level. It is a massive, holistic biological project. Not simple addition."
He paused, letting the dark reality sink in, before smoothly changing the subject.
"But... Kiyohara. If you truly wish to walk this dark path... I can provide significant assistance. I possess classified research materials regarding genetic mutation and Bloodline Limits in my primary laboratory that would be invaluable to your theories."
This was bait. Kiyohara knew it instantly.
Orochimaru wanted to dissect him, study his cellular structure, and figure out the genetic secrets he held. But it was also a massive opportunity to gain access to S-Rank research.
"Then I thank you for your generosity, Lord Orochimaru," Kiyohara bowed his head respectfully.
The next day.
The caravan continued its slow, grueling slog forward. The torrential rain had lightened slightly to a miserable drizzle, but the sky remained a suffocating, bruised gray.
Around two in the afternoon, a sudden, violent anomaly spiked in Kiyohara's sensory perception.
"Multiple hostile chakra reactions," Kiyohara stated in a low, cold voice inside the carriage. "Three hundred meters ahead. Elevated slope on the right flank. Five signatures."
Almost simultaneously, Orochimaru opened his eyes. "The chakra signature matches Iwagakure."
Minato nodded calmly, his hand resting on his kunai pouch. "It seems they were attracted by the sheer size of the civilian caravan. Senior Orochimaru, shall we let the youngsters handle the practical application this time?"
Minato had detected these signatures even earlier than Kiyohara, but he also realized their chakra volumes weren't particularly threatening.
Orochimaru licked the corner of his mouth. "Suits me. Minato and I will oversee the perimeter. Kiyohara, Kakashi... you handle the vanguard."
The order was given.
The carriage ground to a halt in the mud, and the civilian merchants panicked, scrambling to hide behind the reinforced wooden wheels.
Five Iwagakure ninja appeared from the muddy slope above the road. They wore standard earthy-brown uniforms and rebreather masks. The two leaders possessed the burly, dense builds typical of elite Iwa earth-users.
"Konoha escorts?" one of the Iwa Jonin sneered, looking down at the teenagers stepping out of the carriage. "They sent a bunch of brats to guard this haul? Kill them, and we'll split the goods!"
The other Jonin was already slamming his hands together. "Earth Release: Rock Lodging Destruction!"
The muddy road violently shook, and massive, jagged rocky spikes jutted out of the earth, spreading rapidly like a wave toward the vulnerable caravan.
Kakashi rushed forward instantly. Blinding blue electric arcs condensed violently in his right hand, emitting the deafening, piercing screech of a thousand birds.
But Kiyohara's tactical movements were fundamentally different.
He didn't rush forward to engage in melee. Instead, he leaped backward over ten meters, utilizing magnetic repulsion to instantly create optimal firing distance.
He formed a single seal.
"Magnet Release—"
Dense black iron sand poured rapidly from the specialized thermos sealed at his hip. It took shape in the air directly in front of his chest.
The iron sand rapidly, violently condensed into dozens of walnut-sized, spindle-shaped aerodynamic bullets. Each projectile was highly compressed, its surface rendered as smooth and reflective as polished steel.
Kiyohara held his hands out in front of the floating ammunition, his palms facing each other as if gripping an invisible cylinder. Intense, crackling blue lightning began to arc violently between his palms, forming a literal magnetic rail.
"—Electromagnetic Bullets."
BUZZ.
Amidst a low, terrifying electrical hum that vibrated the air, the iron sand bullets began to hover and spin frantically in front of him. The invisible electromagnetic coils generated by his lightning chakra began to rotate the projectiles at blinding speeds.
The Iwa ninja noticed Kiyohara's bizarre stance, but they couldn't comprehend the physics of what he was doing.
"What kind of parlor trick is that kid playing?" an Iwa Chunin sneered.
The next millisecond, they understood perfectly.
SWISH-SWISH-SWISH-SWISH!
The first volley. Five iron bullets were fired simultaneously.
The immense electromagnetic acceleration provided an unbelievable, apocalyptic initial velocity. The projectiles ripped pale blue, ionized trails through the freezing rain as they crossed the battlefield at nearly Mach 2.
"Supersonic" kinetic methods were astronomically rare in the Ninja World. While some elite shinobi possessed supersonic Wind or Lightning jutsu, projecting physical, armor-piercing mass at that velocity was almost entirely impossible for anyone below Kage-level.
The three Iwa Chunin had absolutely zero biological time to react.
PFFT! PFFT! PFFT!
The sickening sounds of skulls shattering like glass, throats being violently perforated, and ribcages caving in rang out in rapid succession.
The three Chunin fell backward instantly, dead before they hit the mud. Their blood bloomed across the road, mixing with the freezing rain.
The two Jonin possessed vastly superior neural reflexes. They managed to engage Earth Release: Earth Spear to harden their skin at the absolute last microsecond.
The supersonic bullets slammed into their hardened bodies, making a deafening, metallic CLANG.
BANG! BANG!
The two Jonin were violently knocked off their feet by the sheer kinetic impact, spraying mouthfuls of blood as they tumbled down the slope.
Their hardened skin prevented total penetration, but the localized kinetic energy transfer was catastrophic. One Jonin suffered a pulverized shoulder blade, and the other had three ribs violently snapped inward.
"What... what the hell was that projectile?!" the injured Jonin gasped in horror, looking down at the deep, bone-exposing crater hammered into his shoulder.
His hardened armor had been physically pulverized! His Earth Release defense was violently shattered by sheer kinetic mass!
Seizing the microsecond of the enemy's stunned shock, a silver flash flickered past the wounded Jonin. Kakashi's Chidori effortlessly, cleanly pierced the heart of the man with the shattered shoulder.
The final, terrified Jonin frantically tried to flee into the treeline, but Kurenai's genjutsu arrived flawlessly.
"Demonic Illusion: Tree Binding Death!"
Phantom images of massive, twisting roots sprouted from the mud, entangling the Jonin's legs. Although it was purely a psychological illusion, the microsecond of hesitation was a death sentence.
Genma's senbon shot out from his mouth like lethal raindrops, flawlessly pinning the Jonin's arms and sealing off all physical escape routes.
Rin stood further back, her medical chakra flaring, ready to provide emergency triage at any moment.
Kiyohara had already primed the electromagnetic rails for a second volley, manipulating the iron sand to spin up new bullets. But he smoothly dissipated the charge; he found they were no longer needed. Kakashi's kunai was already pressed firmly against the final Jonin's jugular.
The skirmish ended abruptly. From start to finish, the entire tactical engagement took less than forty seconds.
Five Iwagakure ninja. Completely wiped out.
Konoha's side suffered zero casualties, and total chakra expenditure was incredibly minimal.
Kiyohara smoothly retracted the iron sand back into his thermos and deactivated his magnetic field.
He noted the slight dip in his chakra reserves, and then he clearly, distinctly felt the passive recovery buff provided by the Power of the White Snake kicking in. It slowly, steadily replenished the expended lightning chakra without any conscious effort on his part.
"Bloodline Limits... truly an enviable, magnificent ability," Orochimaru's hissing voice came from beside him; the Sannin had walked up completely silently. "To achieve that level of physical kinetic destruction using pure Lightning Release, the chakra consumed would be astronomical."
Kiyohara nodded respectfully. Then, he proceeded to do something that the rest of the group was still struggling to get used to.
Although Kakashi and Genma had seen it many times, they still found it hard to keep a straight face seeing Kiyohara meticulously, ruthlessly loot the enemy corpses one by one.
Usually, standard ninja protocol dictated only collecting intelligence-related items (scrolls, maps, headbands) from corpses. But Kiyohara carried a massive, dedicated sealing scroll specifically for this.
Stripping the corpses down to their thin underwear to steal their armor, weapons, and rations was indeed a rare, deeply cynical sight.
"It seems there is no actionable intelligence on them," Kiyohara sighed, handing the few encrypted patrol maps he found directly to Orochimaru.
To Kiyohara's deep disappointment, there was absolutely no mention of Steel Release users in the patrol logs.
In the late evening, the caravan finally arrived at the scheduled logistical handover point deep within the Land of Rain.
The heavy rain had temporarily stopped, but the sky remained a bruised, suffocating gray.
Someone was already waiting for them in the desolate, rocky valley.
It was a young woman with short, pale blue hair. She possessed a coldly beautiful face and eyes that were unusually, chillingly calm for someone her age. She wore a simple, dark cloak that concealed her figure.
Beside her, stacked neatly on the wet rocks, were over a dozen sealed wooden cargo crates.
'Konan!' Kiyohara was genuinely startled internally. The future Akatsuki founder was standing right in front of him.
"Are you... that child from back then?" Orochimaru narrowed his eyes, analyzing the girl.
The pale blue hair. The delicate, origami paper flower pinned in her hair.
The shape of the paper flower triggered a buried memory for Orochimaru. He remembered the grueling mission he undertook with Jiraiya and Tsunade in the Land of Rain during the Second Great War.
Three starving, war-orphaned children had approached them in the mud, begging for food. In the end, Jiraiya had inexplicably, foolishly chosen to stay behind and teach them ninjutsu for three years—an act of sentimental charity that made Orochimaru believe Jiraiya was completely obsessed with fairy tales.
For the sake of a vague, delusional "prophecy" regarding a child of destiny, Jiraiya had chosen to train foreign orphans instead of returning to serve his own Village.
Konan nodded slightly. She had clearly learned the true identities of Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru years later. Or rather, in the entire Ninja World, shinobi who didn't know the faces of the Legendary Sannin were the absolute minority.
"Mr. Orochimaru. Indeed, we have met once before," Konan's voice was completely flat, devoid of any warmth or nostalgia. "Escorting these vital medical supplies across the border was a logistical task our organization entrusted to this specific caravan."
Prices in the war-torn Land of Rain were astronomically, abusively high—especially for anything related to ninja combat or trauma medicine. To save desperately needed funds for their fledgling organization (the early, pacifist Akatsuki), Konan had chosen to import the supplies secretly from the Land of Fire via civilian smugglers.
While Orochimaru and Konan exchanged tense, diplomatic pleasantries, Kiyohara's mind was racing with dark possibilities.
'If Konan is here... then Nagato and Yahiko are alive. Which means the original Akatsuki is currently active,' Kiyohara thought, his eyes narrowing. 'I wonder... will I eventually inherit an "Akatsuki Organization Kiyohara" from the Urn in the future?'
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Give me powerstones.
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