"The body temperature, heart rate, and cell activity are all abnormal," reported Yakushi Kabuto calmly.
"The body temperature has risen by three degrees compared to the baseline. In the area near the abdomen, it's reached as high as forty-one degrees... Heart rate and breathing have both spiked significantly—140% and 165% of normal levels."
He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Cell activity in the flank area has increased thirteenfold, and it's beginning to spread outward. There's also an abnormal chakra inside Uchiha Shinsuke—it's already invaded his brain."
Orochimaru narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to look back at the instruments.
He hadn't expected the transplantation to deteriorate so quickly—or for Shinsuke's life to be at such immediate risk.
The spike in vital signs, while extreme, was something he could manage if necessary.
But the sudden emergence of foreign chakra... that was a far more serious problem.
It had already fused completely with Shinsuke's chakra, leaving no opening for any sealing jutsu to intervene.
On the operating table, Uchiha Shinsuke had stopped struggling. His screams had faded.
Instead, his body went slack. His eyes dulled, unfocused. Saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth into the nutrient solution below.
It was as if his will itself had been snuffed out.
Orochimaru remained still, his expression unreadable.
He had documented everything during Yamato's own first-generation cell transplant. Compared to that precedent, this situation—while severe—wasn't yet catastrophic.
The cells hadn't gone completely berserk.
The granulation spreading along Shinsuke's flank was twisted, yes, like a writhing jungle of blood and flesh—but it hadn't yet fully transformed into wood.
Until that half-wooden transformation appeared, there was still hope.
Orochimaru had contingencies. If needed, he could forcibly strip away the infected tissue, severing the parasitic cells.
And even if Shinsuke's consciousness was lost, Orochimaru could still salvage part of the unknown chakra merging within him, ensuring some gains from the operation.
It was not yet the time to give up.
—You think too simply. This operation only has two outcomes: success... or total failure.
The voice of the Lamp God whispered directly into Orochimaru's mind.
In the next moment, Orochimaru's vision twisted—and what he saw froze his breath.
Within the translucent solution, Shinsuke's body was now streaked with two vivid colors—red and green.
Green energy, oozing from the flank, spread wildly across his body like invasive vines, consuming the red areas as it advanced.
Orochimaru frowned darkly. "What... is this?"
Chakra, the Lamp God answered lazily, his ethereal form emerging behind Orochimaru. The chakra of the first-generation cells.
It's not 'water without a source.' It has its own instincts. It's devouring Shinsuke's chakra to survive. From the very beginning, there were only two possibilities for him: complete fusion—or total consumption.
The Lamp God's voice echoed ominously.
Orochimaru licked his lips unconsciously, his golden eyes glinting with a dangerous gleam.
It was just a piece of artificially cultivated flesh and blood — yet it could devour the host's chakra and grow on its own.
The thought was almost unimaginable.
The original surgical plan had been built around one idea: how to limit the replication and proliferation of the first-generation cells.
The chakra with Wood Release properties was considered nothing more than a byproduct, something created when the cells went out of control.
But now... it seemed completely backward.
It wasn't the cells producing the chakra after going berserk.
It was the first-generation chakra itself that was consuming Shinsuke's chakra, fueling the cells' terrifying, invasive growth.
Orochimaru's mind spun rapidly.
How could the cells replicate so quickly even in nutrient solution?
Did they have multiple ways of growing—devouring both material matter and chakra energy alike?
Their adaptability was horrifying.
They could survive any condition.
Watching Uchiha Shinsuke teeter on the brink of death, Orochimaru was filled with a rare sense of awe.
Once he understood the situation clearly, there was little he could do to change it.
Even the purpose of the surgery—the entire human experiment—had shifted.
It was no longer about successfully fusing first-generation cells into Uchiha Shinsuke.
Now, it was about observing, recording, and understanding the process of failure.
And if he could figure out the true nature of the first-generation chakra, the data gathered would be invaluable—well worth the cost of losing Shinsuke.
—It's not time to give up yet.
Lamp God's voice rang out lazily.
He glanced at Orochimaru and added,
"Shinsuke's chakra is far inferior to the first generation's... but he's not an ordinary ninja. Look at his eyes."
Orochimaru jolted slightly and focused on Shinsuke's Sharingan.
Though the boy's expression was slack and dazed, the Sharingan itself still glowed faintly—bright and alive.
Shinsuke's body may have been weak, but his bloodline—his Sharingan—might still have the strength to resist the first-generation chakra.
This was his home turf, after all.
The invading chakra was crude, nothing more than the unconscious instincts of cells, not refined by the first Hokage himself.
The key was to stimulate Shinsuke's Sharingan, to draw out stronger, purer chakra from it.
Orochimaru thought for a moment, then gave a subtle gesture to the silver-haired boy monitoring the instruments.
Kabuto looked confused at first.
But when Orochimaru pointed from Shinsuke to the bathroom, realization dawned.
Clearing his throat dramatically, Kabuto raised his voice—casual, teasing, just loud enough:
"Uchiha Shinsuke... have you regressed to the bladder control of a three-year-old?
Don't think you can get away with relieving yourself just because you're soaking in nutrient fluid."
Shinsuke's eyelids trembled ever so slightly.
Kabuto continued, feigning a sigh:
"Master Orochimaru even cleared your stomach carefully with medicine, thinking of your kidneys.
You should at least try to think about him too, don't you think?"
On the monitor, Shinsuke's chakra fluctuations spiked sharply.
Kabuto kept pressing:
"You think I'm lying? The nutrient fluid might be green, but the water you're releasing isn't clear either."
"Getting angry, are you?
The color's getting darker...
Maybe when we report this to the Uchiha clan, they'll start preparing the next batch.
Give them a few days to cool their tempers first, though."
In that instant, Shinsuke's pupils contracted sharply.
The three tomoe spun wildly in his crimson eyes, locking back into sharp focus.
In the field of vision shared by the Lamp God, Orochimaru saw it clearly:
The red chakra—Shinsuke's own—suddenly stabilized.
It stopped its decline and began pushing back against the invasive green.
The tide hadn't turned yet, but it was only a matter of time.
The first-generation cells, acting purely on instinct, had no ability to sustain explosive growth over the long term.
Orochimaru pursed his lips, a strange expression on his face.
It was well known that strong emotions could amplify a ninja's chakra...
But to think that the critical turning point of such an important experiment would come from mocking someone about pissing themselves...
Truly, it was beyond ridiculous.
He couldn't help but wonder:
When the next Uchiha is prepared for transplant, would he have to use the same... crude tactic?
Would it really come to this kind of low, dirty provocation?
Even for someone like Orochimaru, who prided himself on using any means necessary...
Right now, he hesitated.
________
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