"Of course, even if you don't mind soiling yourself, you should at least think about Lord Orochimaru and me."
Hearing this, Uchiha Shinsuke's face darkened, and he shot a sharp glare at Yakushi Kabuto.
Kabuto remained calm, meeting his gaze without flinching. After a brief stare-down, Shinsuke snorted coldly and turned away, heading toward the bathroom.
There were more important things at hand; arguing with this smug, bespectacled brat wasn't worth the time.
Once Shinsuke disappeared into the bathroom, Orochimaru nodded at Kabuto and resumed preparing the nutrient solution needed for the procedure.
Kabuto's provocation had been intentional. Emotions like anger could spike mental activity, which would help with the upcoming transplantation of the First Hokage's cells.
At the same time, it served another purpose: to mentally prepare Shinsuke for the humiliations he might face during the operation.
Even the strongest warrior, who could kill without hesitation on the battlefield, might struggle to accept the shame of losing control over his own body, especially while submerged in nutrient fluid.
Every little advantage mattered. Orochimaru was determined to seize every opportunity to increase the experiment's success rate.
…
A long time passed—far longer than it should have taken for someone to simply relieve themselves and shower—before Uchiha Shinsuke finally emerged.
He looked... shaken, almost disbelieving, as if he'd just realized how much filth his own body contained.
"Now you understand what could happen if you lose control during the procedure," Kabuto said lightly, his voice cold and faintly mocking.
Shinsuke's face twisted with anger, but he said nothing.
His gaze shifted to a large, two-meter-long tank filled with a light green solution—the nutrient fluid he would soon be immersed in.
As much as he wanted to lash out, he understood the boy's point: if he failed to maintain control during surgery, the entire tank would be contaminated in an instant.
The thought alone made Shinsuke shudder.
More importantly, it sharpened his resolve.
Faced with the very real possibility of being humiliated beyond belief, his will to endure—and succeed—hardened even further.
From his station, Orochimaru observed the spike in Shinsuke's mental activity through the monitors and licked his lips, intrigued.
The sharp rise in mental strength sparked new ideas in Orochimaru's mind.
If mere embarrassment could push someone's limits this much, imagine the results if Shinsuke's parents, friends, and even fiancée were invited to watch.
The added pressure could have boosted his resolve to even greater heights.
Of course, that was only a passing thought.
Orochimaru reminded himself—he wasn't completely a devil. Besides, this operation required careful focus, not entertainment.
He gestured toward Shinsuke.
"Strip down and lie in the tank. Keep your Sharingan activated the entire time."
Shinsuke narrowed his eyes for a moment. Then, opening them wide, the once-black pupils turned a vibrant red, spinning with three tomoe—the full manifestation of the Sharingan.
Stripped down to nothing but a fig leaf, Uchiha Shinsuke lay submerged in the light green nutrient solution, his body firmly secured inside the tank.
Orochimaru stood over him, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Throughout this entire operation, no anesthesia will be used," he said, his voice calm yet full of malice. "Not only will your body endure unimaginable pain, but your mind will be under constant attack. If you lose consciousness..."
He licked his lips, savoring the tension in the air.
"...then this operation will be considered a failure."
A low, sinister laugh escaped him as he added, "I'll do my best to save your life—but it might come at the cost of permanent disability."
Under the harsh glare of the operating lights, Orochimaru's already pale face seemed almost ghostly, casting a grim, threatening shadow across the room.
Up until now, Shinsuke hadn't thought much of the operation.
But hearing Orochimaru's words—and seeing that eerie, sneering face—made his heart pound with sudden, primal fear.
Without wasting another second, Orochimaru scrubbed his hands, then stretched out his fingers. Thin lines of chakra emerged from his fingertips, probing along Shinsuke's flank, tracing the chakra pathways with eerie precision.
This time, Orochimaru wasn't using the standard Yamato-model full-body fusion method.
While it had impressive results, it couldn't solve the fundamental problem—the rampant erosion caused by the First Hokage's cells.
Instead, Orochimaru had devised a different plan: a regional cell transplant.
He would target a specific area of Shinsuke's body. If the transplant failed, that part could simply be cut away—allowing the patient to survive, albeit at a cost.
This method wasn't without precedent. According to the "Lamp God," it had been used before by powerful figures: Uchiha Obito, and long ago, Uchiha Madara himself.
Madara had transplanted cells into his chest.
Orochimaru had originally considered transplanting into the buttocks—after all, that area had the most excess flesh and would be the safest in case of failure.
But the buttocks had too few chakra meridians, making it difficult to suppress the rampant cells.
The chest, being too close to the heart, was far too dangerous.
After careful consideration, Orochimaru chose the side abdomen—a balance between risk and practicality.
Once he marked the surgical area, Orochimaru twisted his fingers, and four inhibitor syringes appeared between them.
One by one, he injected the inhibitors into Shinsuke's body.
Immediately, Shinsuke's face twisted in agony, his entire body tensing.
Orochimaru wasn't surprised.
Suppressing the First Hokage's cells required highly toxic reagents; no "gentle" solution could do the job.
The pain was immense, but necessary.
Of course, Orochimaru reasoned to himself, complaining about toxicity without considering dosage was nonsense.
The amount he used would only cause localized necrosis—not fatal damage—and once the conditioning agents were introduced, even that would be minimized.
Suddenly—
"Aaagh!"
A ragged, sharp scream tore from Uchiha Shinsuke's throat, his voice raw with agony.
Even an elite jonin of the Uchiha Clan, with all his pride and strength, could not suppress the agony of merging with the First Hokage's cells.
Orochimaru's eyes gleamed as he watched the transformation.
Right before his eyes, small granules of flesh began sprouting from Shinsuke's side, wriggling and twisting like newborn plants pushing through the earth.
It was grotesque—an uncontrolled, writhing mass of life.
In the back of his mind, Orochimaru chuckled darkly.
"How revolting... a writhing jungle of flesh... almost looks like some kind of tribute to Cthulhu," he mused.
He didn't really know what "Cthulhu" was—just something the "Lamp God" had mentioned in passing—but the comparison felt disturbingly fitting.
And this... this was only the beginning.
The mutations would only become more severe as the transplanted cells continued to proliferate.
Seeing Shinsuke thrash and struggle, Orochimaru barked sharply:
"Control your chakra! No—use your Sharingan's pupil power to force the cells into submission!"
Shinsuke screamed again, writhing under the green liquid.
Orochimaru tensed, readying more inhibitor syringes in his hand to suppress the out-of-control growth if needed.
"Lord Orochimaru!"
Kabuto's voice cut through the tension, urgent.
"Uchiha Shinsuke's chakra is dropping rapidly!"
________
Support me on patreon and read
1)Insect princess from Konoha
2)Second girls journey in Naruto
3)Orochimaru's Magic lamp
patreon.com/Silver757