Orochimaru neatly removed Yamato's right eye and placed it into a prepared nutrient tank. Then, without wasting a moment, he retrieved another eye—Shisui's right eye—from a different tank and carefully implanted it into Yamato's now empty socket.
The entire eye replacement procedure was quick. Yamato only felt a brief emptiness and swelling where his eye had been. His old, dull eye was gone—replaced now by another one, half-blind and clouded as if suffering from some kind of infection.
As Orochimaru worked to heal the wound with medical ninjutsu, the sharp pain quickly faded.
Blinking a few times, Yamato felt a sticky secretion leak from the corner of his eye, mixing with the faint trace of blood and tears left behind. But aside from that, there was no real discomfort.
The only major difference was his vision.
Curious, Yamato closed his left eye—and immediately, the world turned hazy, as if covered by a thick layer of white mist. Even Orochimaru, standing right in front of him, appeared as nothing more than a blurry outline.
With vision this poor, everything looked distorted and abstract.
Panicked, Yamato hurriedly opened his left eye again. Seeing the world snap back into focus, he exhaled in relief.
"Master Orochimaru... this eye is...?" he asked uncertainly.
Orochimaru gave a thin smile.
"This is Shisui's eye—a Mangekyō Sharingan that has lost most of its vision due to excessive overuse of its powers," he explained. "But... you have the cells of the First Hokage in your body. That might allow the eye to recover its vision over time."
So that's why he wanted my body...
Yamato's stiff posture finally relaxed.
Thankfully, it seemed Orochimaru was only interested in his body for its genetic value—and nothing worse.
Thinking of how he'd panicked earlier, Yamato felt embarrassed and slightly annoyed. Damn it, Kakashi-senpai... if you hadn't made me read all those weird books, I wouldn't have let my imagination run wild.
Orochimaru continued calmly, "You know the value of a Mangekyō Sharingan. Keep it hidden as much as possible. It's fine if Guy and Kakashi, who are with you every day, notice—but no one else."
Though his tone was casual, the warning beneath his words was clear.
Yamato's heart skipped a beat, and he nodded quickly.
Even if Orochimaru hadn't said anything, Yamato already planned to keep it secret. If people discovered that his body could restore the power of the Mangekyō Sharingan, who knew how many would come after him?
He would never be able to live peacefully in Konoha again.
I should go buy a pair of goggles... Yamato thought grimly.
With goggles to cover it, no one would notice the difference between this half-blind Sharingan and his original eye.
As if reading his thoughts, Orochimaru chuckled softly and pulled a small, delicate lens from his ninja pouch.
Blowing dust off the lens, he stepped forward, gently pressing it against Yamato's right eye with a single finger.
Yamato felt a slight soreness, but after adjusting for a moment, he opened his eyes again—and found that his vision on the right side had significantly improved.
Though the colors through that eye seemed slightly duller than the left, it was a massive improvement compared to before.
"This is called a contact lens," Orochimaru said, smiling. "It'll correct your vision."
Orochimaru smiled. "But for you, its greatest purpose is concealment."
According to the "lamp god," this special contact lens—also called a dead-fish eye color contact—was specifically designed to mask the slightly gray hue of the Mangekyō Sharingan, making it look like Yamato's original eye. Goggles, after all, would be far too conspicuous to fool anyone observant.
Yamato blinked a few times. His right eye felt fine, but there was a strange sense of discomfort deep in his heart. It was different from the surgery earlier—this time, something foreign was lodged inside his body.
Still, he understood: with the lens in place, the risk of exposure dropped significantly.
...
After successfully housing Shisui's Mangekyō Sharingan in Yamato, Orochimaru didn't bother to say goodbye to Jiraiya. He left Konoha's forest immediately.
He had too many projects demanding his attention, all of them needing to progress step by step. He certainly had no time to accept Jiraiya's invitation to the Konoha bathhouse.
Tsunade wasn't in the village anyway. If she were, he would have risked being half-beaten to death.
Thinking back to the scene outside the bathhouse, when he treated Jiraiya's injuries, Orochimaru let out a soft, mocking chuckle.
Currently, the curse seal still needed time to erode its target's chakra and soul. Shisui's eye also needed time before it could start recovering its pupil strength. Meanwhile, his research into the Spiritualization Technique had hit a bottleneck. Orochimaru decided it was time to shift focus—he would advance his experiments with the first-generation cells instead.
Uchiha Fugaku had already contacted him several times, growing increasingly impatient.
Orochimaru wouldn't miss the chance to claim such a willing experimental subject.
Before long, he arrived at the outskirts of the Uchiha compound. Brand-new buildings stood on the old ruins, and the scars of the Nine-Tails' attack were nowhere to be seen.
At the clan's entrance, in front of a grand torii gate, Uchiha Fugaku stood waiting, hands behind his back. Seeing Orochimaru, he immediately stepped forward.
"Patriarch Fugaku, I must have kept you waiting," Orochimaru said with a faint smile.
"Not at all. I just arrived myself," Fugaku replied.
After exchanging a few polite words, the two headed toward the Uchiha Guard headquarters.
Beside the newly built police station stood a modest medical room. Officially, it was for treating injured guards. In reality, it lacked any certified medical-nin from the village.
The so-called "physical enhancement surgery" was nothing less than experimentation with first-generation cells. It demanded willing Uchiha jounin who could suppress the cells' aggressiveness with their powerful chakra.
There was no point in hiding the procedure; it would be obvious after a single operation. Better to be open about it—it would seem more legitimate that way.
As they strolled along the newly paved road, merchants and villagers on both sides politely bowed and greeted them. It was clear that Fugaku remained highly respected among the people.
However, when they recognized Orochimaru, their faces stiffened, and unease flickered in their eyes.
Orochimaru understood why. News of the "Reanimation Jutsu" scandal had spread quickly.
As Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi prioritized the village's interests over personal feelings, but word had already reached even the usually isolated Uchiha clan. Orochimaru knew Danzo had surely fueled the rumors behind the scenes.
All for the sake of the Hokage seat. As always, Danzo played dirty.
Fugaku, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed the subtle hostility and awkwardly explained, "Lord Orochimaru, forgive them. They're easily swayed by rumors."
In other words, don't blame them—they're simply manipulated by the village's prevailing sentiments.
Orochimaru chuckled, eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you saying they can't think for themselves?"
"If they truly couldn't," he added coldly, "there would be no need for the Third Hokage to lie to them in the first place."
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