Chapter 101: Namikaze Minato and Orochimaru
Business at Ichiraku Ramen was absolutely booming. Nearly every seat was taken—except for the two on either side of Orochimaru.
He was, after all, one of the legendary Sannin of Konoha. A shinobi of terrifying renown.
Couple that with the faint, almost subliminal chill he radiated—a feeling that made people respect him and fear him in equal measure, as though they'd just been marked by a venomous snake.
So no one wanted to sit next to him.
Or rather, no one dared.
If this had been a few months ago, Ryū would've given the man a wide berth too. The very first time they'd crossed paths, he'd kept several seats between them—a gap of at least a few meters.
But now? Things were different. Ryū's strength was on another level entirely.
He didn't feel even a sliver of intimidation toward this particular individual—the one who could swap genders on a whim. The "Great Lady Orochi."
Yes… the image of Lady Orochi was still burned vividly into Ryū's memory.
Vividly was an understatement.
Ryū strode right over and took the seat without hesitation. He called out to the shop owner, Teuchi: "Boss, go light on the sesame oil and heavy on the chili oil."
Teuchi responded immediately: "Extra chili oil? You got it!"
And then Ryū felt it—a gaze settling onto him.
He didn't need to look. It was obviously Orochimaru, sizing him up from the neighboring seat.
Because even though Ichiraku's was packed to the gills, nobody dared sit next to Orochimaru.
And now someone had just plopped down right beside him.
It was enough to give Orochimaru a flicker of surprise.
And the young man's profile… hmm. Did he know this person?
He turned the question over for a few seconds, then realized he had absolutely no idea who this kid was.
Since the stranger wasn't anyone he recognized…
Orochimaru withdrew his appraising gaze.
And silently went back to working on his ramen.
They'd only met once, after all—over three months ago—and had exchanged maybe a line or two of dialogue. Of course Orochimaru hadn't remembered some "no-name nobody."
In fact, nobody in all of Konoha had the faintest clue just how strong Ryū actually was.
Even Might Guy, Kakashi, Hiruzen, and Namikaze Minato—they'd only glimpsed the tip of the iceberg.
Until some high-level combatant actually tested Ryū's limits, no one would know what he was truly capable of.
* * *
And yet, for some reason, Orochimaru's pace of eating began to slow. His vertical pupils contracted just a fraction—then returned to normal in an instant.
After swallowing the noodles in his mouth, the corners of his lips curled upward.
Just as he was about to say something—
A hand clapped down on his shoulder.
"Shhh… I snuck out this time. Don't you dare blow my cover."
A very young voice, coming suddenly from behind.
There was no way Orochimaru wouldn't recognize it.
Once upon a time, that Hokage seat was supposed to be his. Instead, it had been snatched away by a young upstart.
And that very upstart was now standing right behind him.
But after months of brooding—and being thoroughly consumed by his experiments—Orochimaru had made his peace with it. The Hokage title? He could take it or leave it.
In other words, the research-obsessed Orochimaru was currently in his zen era.
He lifted Minato's hand off his shoulder, turned around, took one look at the man's laughably bad disguise, and the corner of his mouth twitched: "Why didn't you just use a Transformation Jutsu? This clown-tier makeup job—anyone with a functioning brain cell would see right through it."
His eyes swept over Minato's body. Orochimaru licked his lips.
But there was no hostility in the gesture—whatever impulse stirred within him, he clamped it down hard.
Outwardly, he looked every bit the harmless, zen scientist.
That sudden voice. That sudden arrival.
It was Namikaze Minato.
Minato dropped into the seat to Orochimaru's right and shouted to the shop owner: "Teuchi-san! Three bowls of beef ramen!"
Ryū, sitting on Orochimaru's left, propped his chin on one hand and tilted his head to the side. His gaze traveled past the snake Sannin to study the newcomer with open curiosity.
Minato's arrival hadn't been completely undetectable—not to someone with Ryū's Observation Haki. It was Intermediate-tier now, after all.
Initially, the sheer speed had startled him.
But the moment he got a look at who it was…
It wasn't surprising in the slightest.
Namikaze Minato, huh…
So the Fourth Hokage himself had shown up here? Why?
For Orochimaru?
Or for Ryū?
Ryū didn't believe for a second that the Fourth Hokage—busier than a one-legged man at a butt-kicking contest—would swing by Ichiraku during working hours just for the ambiance. He had to have a purpose.
And here at Ichiraku, both Ryū and Orochimaru happened to be present.
"Is it because of me? Hiruzen should already know I'm not ordinary. And there's no way he'd keep that from the Fourth."
"Or is it because of Orochimaru? Did the butterfly effect from my transmigration somehow accelerate his exposure? Or does Minato, as Hokage, have some personal favor to ask of Orochimaru?"
Several theories formed in Ryū's mind, but they were all just speculation. Which guess was right—or whether every single one was wrong—he couldn't say.
He didn't exactly have precognition powers.
* * *
When it came to raw strength, Namikaze Minato was unquestionably one of the most powerful shinobi in Konoha. But like most ninja, he was the classic glass-cannon archetype—monstrous offense, paper-thin durability.
Meaning he could probably land a 9,999-damage critical-hit backstab.
But take a single kunai to the gut, and he'd lose a third of his health bar.
Someone like Ryū, on the other hand, with his absurd bulk—you could stab him four or five times and he'd barely flinch. Assuming you avoided vital spots like the heart, of course.
And given the sheer density of his physical body, most people couldn't even breach his defenses in the first place.
* * *
Then Ryū noticed something. Although Minato was seated on Orochimaru's right, his gaze kept flickering—subtly, almost imperceptibly—toward Ryū.
Without Observation Haki, Ryū might never have picked up on it.
So it is because of me, then.
Hiruzen must have relayed the details of Ryū's sparring match with Kakashi's team to Minato.
And Minato's curiosity had been piqued.
Or rather… his wariness.
He was the Hokage, after all. If an uncontrollable powerhouse surfaced on his own turf, any sane leader would be on high alert—let alone Namikaze Minato, the man responsible for the entire village.
Ryū may have already guessed Minato's reason for coming, but Orochimaru was still in the dark. He had no idea what was so special about the "stranger" sitting one seat over.
Sure, something about the kid felt slightly… off.
But Orochimaru hadn't given it much thought.
* * *
Minato's arrival put Orochimaru slightly on edge for a different reason entirely.
Because Orochimaru's hands were far from clean.
He'd been conducting human experiments in secret.
Had he been found out?
That was the question racing through Orochimaru's mind.
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