110-112

Chapter 110: The Cursed Seal and the Chakra Pattern 

Base No. 3, Equipment Department 

In a dimly lit room with only a ventilation duct and a single door, towering four-tiered iron racks dominated over eighty percent of the space. The racks were laden with white masks adorned with eerie patterns, standard-issue cloaks, tight-fitting suits, kunai, shuriken, and other ninja tools. 

On the uppermost tier of the racks, rows of sealed scrolls were neatly arranged, each marked with a bold red "Explosive" kanji on the back. 

To the right of the racks stood a rectangular redwood desk. Before it, Hikari and Aburame Ryoma stood silently, their expressions unreadable. Behind the desk sat a dark-haired woman with a blank face, her head bowed as she filled out forms. 

"Height?" she asked. 

"One thirty-five," Hikari replied. 

The pen scratched across the paper in quick, barely legible strokes. 

"Weight?" 

"Two fifty," Hikari said, pressing her lips together. She wasn’t fond of that number—neither its literal meaning nor its implications. 

Click. 

The pen paused. 

The woman slowly raised her head, her panda-like dark circles locking onto Hikari’s youthful face. Her gaze lingered briefly on the black cloth covering Hikari’s eyes before she lowered her head again to continue writing. 

Scratch, scratch. Weight: 250 kg. 

After writing, the panda-eyed woman hesitated, then added a decimal point between the five and zero, nodding in satisfaction. 

"Codename?" 

"Yato." 

Scratch, scratch. 

The question-and-answer exchange was brisk, the form quickly filling up. 

Aburame Ryoma stood behind Hikari, silent and still as a cold wax statue. 

With a click, the pen’s tip retracted. 

The woman folded the completed form, stamped it with a seal, and turned to select suitable clothing for Hikari. 

"Can I wear my own clothes?" Hikari asked. 

"On missions, you wear the cloak and mask—standard issue. Otherwise, do what you want," the woman replied, rummaging through the lower racks. She pulled out a set of clothes and handed them to Hikari, then grabbed a mask from the shelf. "Not many masks fit your face shape, so you don’t get much choice. As for ninja tools, everyone’s got a limited quota. You’ll need to register what you take. I’d suggest stocking up while you’re here." 

"No need, thanks," Hikari said, accepting the mask and cloak without complaint. 

The mask resembled the upper half of an owl’s face, with strange red and black patterns framing the eye areas. It wasn’t ugly, but it wasn’t particularly striking either—just a standard design. 

From the faint emotional glow above Danzo’s head, Hikari deduced that his main reason for recruiting her was likely to counter Sarutobi Hiruzen. If her connection to the Root were exposed, it could disrupt Danzo’s plans. He was likely more aware of this than she was, so he probably wouldn’t send her on routine missions. These items—mask, cloak, tools—wouldn’t see much use. As for ninja tools, unless they were relics of the Sage of the Six Paths, they wouldn’t offer her much help. 

"One more thing," the woman said, pulling out a dark green handbook and a black wooden disk from under the desk. The disk’s surface was etched with intricate cursed seals, with a hollow square at its center. "This handbook lists the Root’s rules, maps, and methods to unlock the base’s sealing barriers. Memorize it to avoid breaking any taboos. Input your chakra into this disk, and it’ll generate a unique symbol for your identification." 

Carefully tucking the handbook away, Hikari took the disk, studying the intricate cursed seals carved into it. 

The six-year ninja academy didn’t just teach the Three Basic Techniques. It covered the Will of Fire, chakra principles, trap-setting, ninjutsu composition, hand signs, throwing techniques, taijutsu, genjutsu analysis, stealth, and reconnaissance—a comprehensive curriculum. Hikari, leveraging her fan club at the academy, had borrowed advanced textbooks from older students, some even containing basic knowledge of sealing techniques and cursed seals. 

Sealing techniques and cursed seals might sound lofty, but they weren’t as complex as they seemed. "Sealing techniques" referred to a broad category of ninjutsu. Just as Shadow Clone, Water Clone, and Lightning Clone all fell under "clone techniques," any technique that produced a "sealing" effect was considered a sealing technique. For example, if Hikari developed a technique to bind enemies with ropes, that would be a standard sealing technique. Her Rabbit Hair Needle, which blocked chakra flow in an enemy’s meridians, could also technically be classified as a sealing technique. 

Cursed seals, on the other hand, were semi-automated ninjutsu—an alternative way to release techniques. By translating the chakra pathways and hand signs of a ninjutsu into abstract text, you created a "cursed script." Take the rope-binding technique as an example: if Hikari analyzed it and converted it into text, that would be a "sealing cursed script." By inscribing this script onto a chakra-conductive material, the technique could be activated with just a chakra input—no focus or hand signs required. This would result in a "Rope-Binding Seal" cursed seal. 

The "Sealed Scrolls" that recorded forbidden techniques combined these elements. The principle involved transcribing a sealing technique’s cursed script onto chakra-conductive paper, like the kind used to test chakra natures. Ninja tools were crafted similarly, though they often required rare chakra metals, making them expensive. Besides these materials, human skin was also an excellent chakra conductor. Some ninja skilled in cursed seals would tattoo them onto their bodies to boost their combat prowess. There was a time in the ninja world when many bore strange cursed seals on their faces or bodies, viewing them as symbols of strength. But as cursed scripts grew more complex and skin space became insufficient, this practice fell out of favor. 

In short, sealing techniques and cursed seals were distinct concepts, though their compatibility led to frequent overlap. 

Reading the cursed script on the disk, Hikari confirmed it wasn’t a sealing technique or some powerful secret jutsu. As the woman had said, it was simply a cursed seal that generated a unique pattern based on chakra fluctuations. 

A faint purple chakra aura gathered in Hikari’s hands. 

Buzz! 

The disk vibrated, its symbols slowly emitting a purple glow. 

Behind her, Aburame Ryoma’s icy demeanor finally showed a flicker of emotion. Tiny black parasitic insects crawled from his eyelids, releasing pheromones of intense desire toward the purple light. 

Yin? 

Pushing his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose, Ryoma suppressed the restless insects within him and stepped back three paces, retreating into the shadows by the door like a creature that could only thrive in darkness. 

Buzz! 

The cursed script on the disk lit up circle by circle, converging at the central square to form a unique pattern. 

The three of them leaned in curiously. 

The pattern was an incomplete circle formed by two overlapping wing outlines—one spiral-patterned on the left, the other radiating outward on the right. The intersecting arcs created an unclosed crescent moon and eclipse ring, with three diamond-shaped dots at the gap, shimmering like flowing water despite being static. 

"This is your chakra fluctuation pattern," the woman said. "The village’s outer sensory barrier records chakra fluctuations, which are converted into patterns like this." 

Taking the disk from Hikari, she admired the beautiful, mysterious design for a moment before pulling out a blank sheet of paper and forming quick hand signs. The pulsating purple pattern solidified and transferred onto the paper, fixed in place. 

"This is your mark now. Codename, mask, and chakra pattern—these three unique identifiers together confirm your identity far more reliably than an appearance that can be altered." 

Handing the patterned paper to Hikari and stowing the disk back under the desk, the woman sat back down, motionless, as if her task were complete. 

Glancing at the puppet-like woman and then at the cold, insect-like man lurking in the shadows, Hikari thought to herself that there weren’t many normal people in the Root. 

"Let’s go," she said to Aburame Ryoma, clutching her pile of items. 

"Hm." 

Surprisingly, the usually stoic Ryoma responded, albeit curtly. It was a small step up from his previous uncommunicative demeanor. 

Hikari blinked in surprise, then glanced at the emotional glow above his head. Amid the void, there was a faint trace of goodwill. If everyone’s favor toward her started at a baseline of 100, Ryoma’s had risen from a detached zero to a mere five—the kind of familiarity gained from a single meeting. 

She didn’t know where this sliver of goodwill came from, but as someone new to the Root, Hikari needed an information source. As Danzo’s right-hand man and one of the Root’s two elite Jonin, Ryoma was an ideal candidate. 

"What should I call you?" she asked. 

"…Ryoma." 

They walked and talked, leaving the Equipment Department one after the other. 

In the dim room behind them, the woman slowly lowered her head, dark hair falling over her cheeks as she slumped in her chair, as if asleep. 

Tap, tap. 

The sound of solitary footsteps echoed through the monotonous corridor. 

Ryoma led the way, his black hood covering his forehead, moving silently. Hikari followed, holding her clothes and mask, her expression serious. 

The woman in the Equipment Department had seemed unremarkable, but her chakra was strikingly strong—stronger than Hikari’s and Ryoma’s combined. Yet, oddly, she hadn’t exuded any sense of danger, and her physical strength seemed average. 

"Ryoma, what’s that woman’s name?" Hikari asked. 

"…Don’t know," Ryoma replied hesitantly, then added faintly, "Don’t disturb her. That’s Danzo-sama’s order." 

Hikari’s eyes flickered at his words. 

On the surface, Konoha had only one Hokage, but in reality, Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzo co-ruled the village—one in the light, the other in the shadows. Together, they kept Konoha’s clans in check. The Anbu and the Root were their respective forces, with the Root being smaller but steeped in secret techniques and forbidden human experiments. The waters here ran deeper than Hikari had imagined. 

"Ryoma, how long have you been in the Root?" 

"A long time." 

"How long is a long time?" 

"…I forgot." 

Facing Hikari’s probing, Ryoma paused. The cold, dim underground base made time feel meaningless. He couldn’t recall when he’d joined the Root—or even why. 

Tap, tap. 

The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. 

No matter how hard he tried, Ryoma couldn’t remember when he joined or his reasons for doing so. All he recalled was a moment in endless darkness when someone reached out to him with a smile. He couldn’t see their face or know their identity, but the warmth of that smile lingered. 

The two walked on, passing rooms lined with sealing barriers and occasionally encountering Root ninja who bowed to Ryoma and Hikari in greeting. No one spoke further. 

"We’re here," Ryoma said, stopping abruptly. 

Hikari, who had been quietly observing him, looked up. Before them stood two iron-gray doors, tightly shut, with red warning symbols and the words "Experiment Department" written above. 

The Experiment Department? Where human experiments are conducted? They might have Hashirama cells here, Hikari thought, memorizing the route to this place. 

"Chihaya To is waiting for you inside," Ryoma said, pulling open the door. Harsh white light spilled from the gap, illuminating the dim corridor. 

Unaccustomed to the bright light, Hikari stepped back slightly. Having delivered her, Ryoma turned and left silently, leaving only a dark silhouette. 

"If you ever remember when you joined the Root, let me know," Hikari called out, one foot already through the door. 

"…Hm." 

His familiar, cold response echoed as Hikari shook her head and stepped into the Experiment Department. 

Outside, she was usually reserved, speaking little. But in the Root, surrounded by icy figures, she felt almost lively by comparison. Sometimes, it’s all about contrast. 

Clank. 

The iron door closed. 

The sharp smell of disinfectant wafted through the cold air. The temperature here felt at least two degrees lower than outside. 

After spending so long in dim lighting, the bright lights stung Hikari’s Byakugan, momentarily disorienting her. As her eyes adjusted, the familiar translucent world unfolded in her mind. Beyond the outer anti-snooping barriers, her Byakugan could now function. Most walls and wooden doors became semi-transparent outlines, though a few inner rooms remained impenetrable. 

The Experiment Department was vast, larger than the meeting hall, divided into countless square compartments like a giant honeycomb under Hikari’s 360-degree vision. Long fluorescent lights hung overhead, and medical staff in green surgical gowns, masks, and gloves moved about, pushing covered figures in and out. 

There were no screams from test subjects or grotesque mutants. The place was cold, precise, and clean. If not for the iron restraints binding the limbs of those on the beds, Hikari might have mistaken it for an ordinary hospital. 

"Is this the new test subject?" 

A nurse in white, pushing a cart of instruments, emerged from the honeycomb and pointed at the silver-haired girl by the door, her voice tinged with excitement. 

Chapter 111: The Blind Surgeon 

The young nurse, likely in her twenties, was pushing a three-tiered medical cart loaded with bandages, hemostats, and other surgical tools. Spotting the seemingly bewildered girl standing at the door, she paused her work, her large, pretty eyes sizing up Hikari as if inspecting a fresh cut of pork. 

"Blind, but the body looks healthy. This test subject seems decent—probably won’t die too easily," she remarked. 

"Still too old," said a doctor in green surgical scrubs, peeling off blood-stained gloves. He glanced at Hikari and shook his head in disappointment. "The optimal window for inducing a chakra core is one to three years old. This one’s at least six or seven—results won’t be ideal." 

"Under three, the recipient’s too weak. Remember how many died during those transplants? This age is perfect—the core’s starting to form, and the body’s strong enough to handle it," countered a taller doctor, setting a small booklet on the cart as he joined the discussion. 

The two debated as if Hikari weren’t there, occasionally pointing at her and tossing around incomprehensible jargon. 

Hikari lowered her head, glancing at the mask and clothes in her hands, suddenly realizing their true purpose. Are they blind to me? 

Picking up the owl-shaped mask, she waved it at the doctors. "I’m looking for Doctor Chihaya—" 

"I still say we stick with subjects under three, ideally newborns. We’ve had success cases before. If we keep replicating, we’ll find a way," the first doctor insisted. 

"Even if you replicate it, it lacks that unique vitality. No matter how many defective copies you make, they’re still defective," the taller doctor shot back. 

Their heated discussion continued, completely ignoring Hikari. Even the nurse who’d first noticed her couldn’t get a word in. She busied herself instead, retrieving two steel chains and a short black rod from the room. The chains had five steel rings with specialized clasps—one large, four small—clearly designed for restraint. The black rod, about fifteen centimeters long and as thick as a man’s wrist, had two parallel silver metal tips extending from one end. 

Holding the rod with an icy stare, the nurse approached Hikari swiftly. 

"I’m new here—" Hikari began. 

Click! 

The nurse flicked a switch, cutting her off. 

Zzt! 

A sharp crackle erupted as an electric arc sparked between the metal tips. The nurse aimed the buzzing rod at Hikari, deaf to her words. 

"I think the test subject—" the nurse started. 

Buzz! 

The air trembled faintly. 

Clank! Crash! 

"Aaahhh!" 

A piercing, agonized scream sliced through the air like a scalpel, shattering the calm of the honeycomb-like Experiment Department. Even the doctors, engrossed in their academic debate, were forced to divert their attention, frowning toward the source of the noise. 

"What’s going—" they began, but their words caught in their throats as they swallowed hard, fear unmistakable in their eyes. 

Under the harsh fluorescent lights, a vivid red stole their focus. 

"Ah!" 

The nurse clutched her bleeding forearm, writhing on the floor in agony. Her pristine white uniform was stained crimson, her body twisting like a blood-soaked maggot. 

Thud! 

A black ninja boot kicked aside a severed, delicate hand, which rolled across the clean tiles, leaving a scarlet trail before stopping at the doctors’ feet. 

The nurse’s screams continued. 

The two doctors stared at the silver-haired girl, trembling as they backed away. More medical staff emerged from the rooms—white coats, green scrubs, all in similar attire, but none bore the familiar, malnourished figure Hikari sought. 

Facing the growing crowd, Hikari flashed a bright smile, waving her mask. "Anyone know where Doctor Chihaya is?" 

"Intruder!" someone shouted. 

Beep! Beep! Beep! 

A shrill alarm blared through the Experiment Department. 

Hikari’s smile faded, lightning crackling involuntarily through her muscles. She hated people who didn’t listen. If I accidentally kill everyone here… 

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! 

Three figures in standard Root gear appeared in a puff of smoke. Recognizing them, the chakra core in Hikari’s chest dimmed. 

"Misunderstanding! Misunderstanding!" shouted Cho, rushing forward with hands raised to calm the dangerous aura radiating from Hikari. 

The other two, bare-chested with bandaged abdomens, were Iwauma and Arashi—the pair Hikari had defeated at the meeting hall. Blood seeped from their freshly torn stitches, a result of their hurried arrival. 

Sweating profusely, they followed Cho. They’d been brought to the Experiment Department for treatment after their injuries, never expecting to encounter a rare enemy attack. Only upon arriving did they realize the source of the killing intent was the same freak who’d sent them here. 

The medical ninja in the Experiment Department were Danzo’s treasures. If this fearless monster wiped them out, they’d have no way to explain it to him. Fortunately, nothing irreversible had happened yet—just a nurse’s arm was maimed. No big deal. 

As Cho stepped in to stop Hikari, the two quickly deactivated the alarm and turned to reassure the startled staff. "This is Hikari Tsuisui, Danzo-sama’s new disciple! She’s not an enemy or some damn test subject!" 

Hearing their explanation, the doctors eyed Hikari skeptically. Spending years in the underground base, their information channels were limited; they’d never heard of her. Danzo-sama took a disciple? A young blind girl? 

Curious gazes converged on Hikari, but survival instincts kept them from questioning aloud, though hushed whispers spread. 

"Hikari-sama, why… why are you here?" Cho asked, his emotional intelligence kicking in. Noticing her agitation, his tone was far more respectful than before. 

"Teacher told me to find Doctor Chihaya. I haven’t met many normal people along the way," Hikari replied, stunned that the most normal people in the Root were the three who’d greeted her that morning. The ghostly gatekeepers at the meeting hall, the panda-eyed woman in Equipment, the cold insect man, and now these doctors who wanted to experiment on any kid they saw without listening—where were the normal people in the Root? 

By comparison, Arashi seemed downright charming. 

Thinking of how Danzo had sent the Root’s most normal members to welcome her, Hikari felt a twinge of gratitude. You guys are the normal ones! 

Cho shot a sidelong glance at this “normal” blind girl who’d lopped off an arm without hesitation. If he hadn’t intervened, the Experiment Department would likely be a morgue by now. Her killing intent was practically made for the Root. 

"Help—" The nurse on the floor lifted her head, clutching her bleeding wrist, lips trembling as she whispered for aid. Her mask and cap had fallen off in her pain, her pale face drained of color—whether from fear or blood loss, it was hard to tell. 

The onlookers had noticed her plight but stayed back, too afraid to approach the girl who’d severed her arm. They pretended not to see her. 

As she begged for help, the crowd stirred but no one dared step forward. Despair flashed in the nurse’s eyes. Driven by survival instinct, she dragged herself toward the crowd, blood pooling from her wrist and smearing across the floor and her clothes, a pitiful sight. 

"Move aside!" a lazy, half-asleep voice called from the back. 

"Chihaya-sama is here!" 

The crowd blocking the corridor parted instantly, clearing a path. 

Still in his pristine white coat, Chihaya To emerged, rubbing his hair, his sunken cheeks set in a wry expression. "Finished your work, have you? Why’re you all crowding here? Someone, get the injured to the operating room." 

At his command, a few burly men stepped forward, pushing a medical cart. They lifted the bloodied nurse onto it, picked up her cold, severed hand, and wheeled her toward the operating room. The rest of the crowd scattered like startled birds. 

Aside from the bloodstains on the floor, the department returned to its cold, quiet state. 

Seeing Chihaya arrive, Arashi and Iwauma nodded to him, then to Hikari, before clutching their bleeding bandages and retreating to their ward. Their wounds had reopened. 

"Ugh, you’re a real troublemaker," Chihaya said, frowning at the problem child before him. 

When Danzo assigned Hikari to him, he’d braced for chaos, but he hadn’t expected her to teach him a lesson on her first day. 

"No choice," Hikari said, spreading her hands helplessly. 

Her young age and harmless appearance had been an advantage when she was weaker, but now they brought trouble just as often. 

"What did Teacher send me to you for?" she asked. 

"You want to learn medical ninjutsu, don’t you? Who else would you come to? Let’s walk and talk," Chihaya replied. Since revealing his Root affiliation, he’d dropped his polished Konoha Hospital facade, showing his laid-back side. 

Leading Hikari toward the operating room, he slipped on a pair of gloves. "Your weekly medical ninja training at the hospital is canceled. Instead, you’ll come to Base No. 2’s Experiment Department to assist me. I’ll teach you medical ninjutsu and… other things." 

"Human experiments?" Hikari added, finishing his unspoken thought as she surveyed the underground honeycomb. 

"You know?" Chihaya’s eyes flashed with surprise—not just at her knowledge, but at her eerie calm when mentioning human experiments. Most in Konoha viewed them as taboo; even a young Orochimaru had been wary when joining the Root. 

"I ran into two shadow-controlling ninja with Sharingan at the third-floor meeting hall," Hikari said. Expecting the Root’s dark dealings and aiming for Hashirama cells, she wasn’t fazed. 

"Oh, you mean the Nara twins," Chihaya said. 

"What’re their names?" 

"No idea," he said, shaking his head. "Root members use codenames in the base and numbers in the lab. Their real names are usually only known to themselves." 

"Then what’s with you and Aburame Ryoma?" 

Chihaya gave a mysterious smile, then sighed. "Back when we joined, the Root wasn’t so strict with rules. And… never mind." 

"I hate people who don’t listen, and I really hate riddle-talkers who only say half a story," Hikari said, clenching her fists, tempted to give Chihaya a whack. 

"No choice. Some people wouldn’t be happy if I said more," he replied, mimicking her hand-spreading gesture as he headed for the operating room. 

Whoosh! 

The door slid open. 

Inside, the sweating nurse lay topless on the operating table, a white cloth over her chest, her right arm limp with a clean-cut stump exposing white bone. Nearby, a cart held sterilized hemostats, scalpels, and her bloodied severed hand. 

No one else was present. 

Seeing Chihaya enter, the nurse’s eyes lit up with relief. 

"Hikari, can you suture wounds?" Chihaya asked. 

"I only know how to cut," she replied. 

He glanced at the nurse’s neatly severed arm. "You do cut cleanly." 

"Why suture? Can’t you just heal it with vitality?" Hikari asked, voicing a long-standing question. 

"Vitality isn’t renewable. Using it shortens the patient’s lifespan, and it’s unstable," Chihaya explained, handing her a pair of gloves. "Medical ninjutsu requires manual control. Humans aren’t machines—they tire, lose focus. It’s far less reliable than the body’s natural healing. Since you can’t suture, I’ll assist." 

"And the lead surgeon?" 

"You can cut, can’t you? You do it." 

The nurse’s eyes widened, her relief morphing into overflowing terror. 

"It’s my first surgery," Hikari admitted, hesitating. Unable to save even a fish, she wasn’t confident about reattaching an arm. 

"No problem. I’ll guide you. First time’s rough, second time’s easier. Practice makes perfect," Chihaya said, patting her shoulder encouragingly. 

The nurse was on the verge of tears but lacked the courage to refuse the silver-haired demon or interrupt the seemingly kind Chihaya. 

"Fine," Hikari said, slipping on the gloves with a reluctant nod. 

Practicing on a live human was a rare opportunity only the Root could offer. At Konoha Hospital, she’d be stuck in training for years without touching a scalpel. 

"Step one: anesthesia," Chihaya said, inserting a needle into a vial and drawing half a syringe of anesthetic. Sssst. He expelled air to check for bubbles, then approached the nurse. 

Her lips trembled. A blind girl performing her first surgery to reattach her arm? After this shot, she wasn’t sure she’d wake up. Suddenly, she wasn’t so attached to her hand. 

"I’ve heard anesthesia can hinder wound healing," Hikari said. 

"It does, but she’s so scared of you, we’d better use it," Chihaya replied. 

As the needle pierced the nurse’s neck and Hikari approached with a scalpel, the nurse’s hazy eyes filled with despair. Her body grew numb, the cold scalpel slicing her arm inch by inch. 

"Open the wound—find the neurons and activate them with vitality—" 

Her mind grew heavier, Chihaya’s instructions fading into a blur. 

Boom! 

Her world sank into endless darkness. 

Chapter 142: Hashirama Cells 

When Nurse woke up groggily, the surgery was already done. 

Her body was still numb, her tongue fumbling in her mouth, unable to form a single coherent word. Her right hand had been reattached, the wound wrapped in gauze with a delicate butterfly knot tied on top, but she still couldn’t feel a thing. 

“Nerve reconnection is delicate work. Honestly, your talent is… unmatched,” said Chihaya Toru, who had taken on the role of assistant, wiping down the blood-stained surgical tools while praising Hikari beside him. 

It was one thing to have incredible combat talent, but who would’ve thought she’d pick up medical ninjutsu so quickly? 

He’d explained the procedure once, demonstrated it once, and after a few practice runs, Hikari could replicate every movement perfectly. Her small hand wielded the scalpel with more precision than his blood pressure, slicing cleanly without a hint of hesitation or psychological burden. 

As for her chakra control? That didn’t even need mentioning. 

During her training, Chihaya had noticed that her frequent mistakes stemmed from her chakra’s overwhelming ability to channel vitality, making precision tricky. But solving that was just a matter of time. After several attempts, she’d finally nailed the sweet spot. 

Physiological knowledge? He guided her through that. Once her body and chakra control caught up, even the most complex medical ninjutsu became almost trivial. 

Grinning ear to ear as he wiped blood from the edge of the operating table, Chihaya was in high spirits. With Hikari’s help, experiments and medical work would be so much easier. He was sick of dealing with the idiots outside every day. 

“How’re you feeling?” Hikari asked with concern, noticing Nurse was awake. 

Though her Byakugan had already confirmed the successful reconnection of neurons and the resulting electrical signals, she still lacked confidence about her first-ever surgery. 

“Nn… nn…” Nurse’s tongue was still tied, but she responded by gently curling the fingers of her newly reattached hand. 

Seeing the gesture, Hikari broke into a warm smile. The nerves were connected, and the rest was just minor details. Her first surgery was a complete success. 

You really could learn some serious skills at Root! 

Ding ding! 

Chihaya turned off the “Surgery in Progress” light at the door. Moments later, a flurry of hurried footsteps echoed as several nurses pushed a cart into the operating room. 

“Alright, we’re done here. Let’s go—I’ll show you where you’ll be working from now on,” Chihaya said. 

“Will I be working in the lab all the time?” Hikari asked. 

“When there’s no mission, yeah. By the way… can I take a vial of your blood?” Chihaya asked, looking at Hikari with eager anticipation. 

Whoosh! 

Invisible threads of wind stirred faintly around Hikari’s body. 

“Okay, okay! Just kidding!” Chihaya’s eyelids twitched as he sensed danger, immediately throwing up his hands in a mock surrender, striking a dramatic pose. 

Ignoring his theatrics, Hikari’s expression remained icy. “If there’s a next time, I’ll tear you apart.” 

Sensing the seriousness in her tone, Chihaya slowly lowered his hands, his exaggerated expression fading into cold calm. “Kill me, and you’ll die horribly.” 

“Oh, I’m curious to see that,” Hikari replied, her gray pupils glinting with killing intent. As a mere shadow clone, she wasn’t fazed by his threat. 

The two locked eyes across the room. The air in the operating room grew heavy with tension. 

“Pfft! You’re just like Orochimaru!” Chihaya said, realizing he couldn’t intimidate her. He smacked his lips in disappointment, dropping the cold act and strolling out of the operating room with a bored expression, as if his earlier enthusiasm had been an illusion. He didn’t even check if Hikari was following. 

“Who’s Orochimaru? One of your test subjects?” Hikari probed, trailing behind. 

“If only,” Chihaya muttered, rolling his eyes. His patience for Hikari plummeted since she wasn’t up for being studied. The golden spark of goodwill in his demeanor dimmed significantly, and even the malice faded a bit. 

They passed through the honeycomb-like structure and soon arrived at a pitch-black basement. The walls and doors were covered in intricate sealing techniques and curse marks. When Hikari activated her Byakugan, the chakra fluctuations were almost blinding. 

This was clearly the heart of the lab. 

“The lab’s split into two parts,” Chihaya explained. “The honeycomb upstairs is for monitoring test subjects or treating injured Root ninjas. Down here is where we store the key materials for human experiments. That chunk of life-filled flesh you saw the other day? That’s a product of this place.” 

He glanced at Hikari to gauge her reaction. 

Bringing Hikari into the lab was Danzo’s idea, and the plan was eerily similar to Orochimaru’s back in the day. Orochimaru had gone from a ninja obsessed with mastering ninjutsu to being lured by Hashirama cells into joining Root. He’d worked with Chihaya on dark, bloody human experiments, eventually becoming consumed by them and falling out with Sarutobi Hiruzen. The whole thing was orchestrated by Danzo. 

Aside from the Otherworldly God technique and being one of Danzo’s disciples, Hikari’s entry into Root was practically a carbon copy of Orochimaru’s. Even the person who accompanied Orochimaru during his Root registration was Aburame Ryoma. 

Talk about bad taste. 

Chihaya quickly formed hand signs, his five fingers glowing as he pressed them against the barrier on the basement door. 

Buzz! 

The barrier flashed red. As Chihaya infused his chakra, a peculiar pattern formed on its surface: two wavy lines with a massive hole in the center made of countless arcs, and within it, a curled symbol resembling an infinity sign (∞). 

Was this a chakra signature? 

Seeing the pattern on the barrier, Hikari instantly thought of her own chakra signature. Then she recalled the moment Butterfly opened the sealed base’s entrance. Butterfly had infused chakra into the barrier, forming a maze-like pattern of jagged lines. At the time, Hikari thought it was just part of the barrier’s design, but now it clicked—that was Butterfly’s chakra signature. 

Buzz! 

The barrier flashed red again. The moment the chakra signature formed, it was like a password being entered. The barrier dimmed, revealing its mechanism. The curse seals etched on the disk were incomplete versions extracted from this sealing barrier. Infusing chakra into the barrier automatically generated a signature, and only if it matched the stored pattern would the passage open. 

“Normally, you wouldn’t be allowed in here,” Chihaya said, pushing open the basement door. He glanced at Hikari, who was already stunned the moment the door opened, and smirked. “You’re my lab assistant, so you’ll be helping with experiments. I need to explain the research, and it’s easier to show you here. You may or may not see it, but this is Root’s greatest treasure—no question about it.” 

Gulp! 

Hikari swallowed hard, her eyes blankly fixed on the massive glass pillar in the center of the basement. Despite mentally preparing herself, the sheer scale of the thing still shocked her. 

Seeing her dumbfounded expression, Chihaya gave a knowing smile. Few people could stay calm when they saw this. 

“Come on,” he said, nudging her forward. 

As they approached, the glass pillar loomed even larger, and the object inside came into full view. 

Hikari craned her neck, unsure how to process what she was seeing. 

It was a colossal tree. 

Its lush, green canopy stretched out like a sea, and the deep brown trunk was covered in countless grotesque human faces, mouths open in a pleading expression. 

Even more horrifying was the tree’s base: a pale, fleshy mountain pulsed slowly in the giant incubation chamber. Hundreds of human bodies were fused together like melted wax, forming the foundation. Limbs not fully assimilated jutted awkwardly from the tumorous surface, their exposed muscle fibers a waxy gray, coated in a slimy, moss-like biofilm that constantly secreted mucus. 

Gurgle, gurgle! 

The flesh writhed slowly. 

The vibrant green sea of life felt hotter to Hikari than molten lava. 

This was too much. 

“Pretty incredible, right? That chunk of flesh you saw the other day? It’s part of this,” Chihaya said. 

Clack, clack! 

His teeth chattered uncontrollably as his voice trembled with excitement, his body shaking as if electrified. No matter how many times he saw it, this massive organism never failed to awe him. 

“Can you feel that incredible vitality?” he asked. “With this kind of power, human lifespan, disease, disability—everything—can be…” He was so overwhelmed he could barely speak, his hands repeatedly stroking the transparent glass, his eyes filled with an indescribable longing. 

“Calm down, Dr. Chihaya,” Hikari said. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he replied, forcing himself to suppress his excitement. He closed his eyes, took deep breaths, and slowly regained his composure. 

“So, what’s our research goal?” Hikari asked, staring at the chaotic ocean of chakra. For some reason, she felt a bit disinterested. 

“These are cells extracted from the First Hokage’s body,” Chihaya said, his face tinged with frustration. “The goal is to safely and stably transplant Hashirama cells into a human body to gain the First Hokage’s power.” 

Using a miracle cure that could solve humanity’s ultimate problems for something as fleeting as power? That was the directive from Root’s leader. 

Boring and ignorant. 

“After several tragic failures, we’ve only had two successes,” Chihaya said, pointing at the fleshy mountain. “One is this source that can produce Hashirama cells almost infinitely. The other is a failure with a corrupted chakra core that inherited the First’s Wood Release kekkei genkai.” 

“Isn’t that a success?” Hikari’s heart skipped a beat. 

Transplanting Hashirama cells to gain a Sage Body was her main reason for joining Root. And didn’t Danzo destroy the Uchiha to use the Sharingan to suppress the cells’ corruption? How could it not have worked? 

“What made Hashirama Senju so powerful wasn’t his Wood Release,” Chihaya said dismissively. “It was his near-infinite vitality and chakra core. What’s the point of just inheriting Wood Release?” 

“Infinite chakra core?” Hikari scratched her head, realizing her knowledge had some gaps. 

Noticing this, Chihaya sighed deeply and decided to give her a crash course on chakra trivia. 

“First, you need to understand what a chakra core is. That thing in your heart, absorbing physical and mental energy to produce chakra? That’s your chakra core.” 

Hikari placed a hand over her heart. 

Thump, thump, thump. 

A purple energy core pulsed with light. Physical energy from her cells gathered in her dantian, colliding with mental energy from her brain at the core. 

“Body, soul, energy—the chakra core fuses these three and creates a power that can shape anything,” Chihaya explained. 

Thump, thump! 

The core beat in sync with her heart, absorbing energy from her meridians and producing purple chakra with infinite potential. 

“Everyone’s soul and body are different, so their chakra core and the chakra it produces are unique. That’s why chakra signatures can identify someone,” he continued. 

Hikari nodded. Aside from chakra signatures, this was basic stuff taught at the Ninja Academy, and she knew it well. 

Seeing her solid foundation, Chihaya smiled approvingly and went on. “All of a ninja’s power and information is stored in their chakra core, including legendary kekkei genkai. In theory, if you could replicate a chakra core, you could create an exact copy of that person.” 

“Shadow clones?” Hikari mused, thinking of her Yang Release clone. 

“Exactly. Shadow clones work by using chakra’s mimicry to create a fake chakra core that contains all the original’s information. That’s why they can use the same powers as the original. They don’t have a body or soul—just chakra simulating the original’s actions and thoughts,” Chihaya explained, summing up the essence of shadow clones in a few sentences. 

“So what’s this got to do with Hashirama cells?” Hikari interjected, not wanting him to ramble. 

“Hold on,” Chihaya said, waving her off, oblivious to her impatience. “Normally, a chakra core goes through six cycles: seed, sprout, growth, flowering, aging, and withering. Once it withers, it can’t produce power anymore. But the First Hokage’s was different. For some reason, his cells can endlessly absorb physical and mental energy to grow. When they reach a certain point, they can automatically form a chakra core and produce chakra.” 

He turned, gazing at the massive tree trunk with obsessive fascination, on the verge of losing himself again. 

Ahem! 

Hikari coughed lightly, interrupting his trance. 

“Oh, sorry!” Chihaya snapped out of it, slapping his forehead. “Here’s the thing: human vitality and chakra cores have limits. Based on a person’s lifespan and their core’s growth cycle, you can calculate exactly how much chakra they’ll produce in their lifetime. Hashirama cells break that limit. As long as there’s biological energy to consume, they can keep producing vitality. Even when a chakra core withers, they can form a new one. It’s just—” 

“Get to the point. Why’d it fail?” Hikari cut in bluntly. 

“We found that Hashirama cells aren’t normal. They’re a diseased cell structure,” Chihaya said, his face full of regret. 

“Konoha’s history books don’t say how Hashirama Senju died. Some speculate he died from unhealed injuries, but—look at this. Even decades after his death, his cells are still vibrant and full of life. Who’d believe he died from injuries? After years of experiments, we found that Hashirama didn’t die from wounds or old age. He died from a disease!” 

“What disease?” Hikari’s brows furrowed, sensing he was getting to the crux. 

Looking at the thriving tree in the glass pillar, Chihaya held up a finger. “A disease only a genius ninja could get—one ordinary people couldn’t even dream of: a kekkei genkai disease!”