"I see. I was being too simple-minded."
Kawakaze understood what the two were saying and casually thought about going to bleed Fugaku one day.
"Okay, I'm not going to waste any more ti with you. Let's get down to business. First, let's do a physical examination."
Tsunade stepped past Kawakaze and went to the cabinet, pulling out a set of blood-drawing instrunts.
"Okay." Kawakaze obediently moved a stool, sat down, and placed his arm on the table.
"Why go to all this trouble? Just stab him and take so blood," Orochimaru said jokingly, pulling out a pocket knife and brandishing it.
"Get the hell away from ," Kawakaze snapped, kicking out at Orochimaru as he approached. Strong self-healing abilities or not, he had no interest in self-abuse.
"Stop it, you two! My stomach hurts from laughing," Tsunade said, trying to steady her hand as she prepared the needle.
"Okay." Orochimaru gracefully put the knife away and stood to the side, watching with a faint smile. Since eting Kawakaze, his life had beco far more colorful—an unexpected source of amusent he hadn't experienced before.
"Okay." With no further interruptions from Orochimaru, Tsunade quickly drew a tube of blood from Kawakaze. The mont she removed the needle, the mark on his arm healed instantly.
"I'll do the tests. You go with Orochimaru," Tsunade said, taking the blood sample and leaving without looking back.
"Kawakaze, co with ."
Orochimaru led Kawakaze to another room with a bed in the center. The room reeked of disinfectant, filling the air with an unpleasant chemical sll.
By the bed stood an instrunt table covered in knives of varying sizes. If the experint's results were to be examined here, it fit perfectly with the image Kawakaze had in his mind.
"Lie down."
Orochimaru, in an unusually considerate gesture, wiped down the iron bed.
"Let ask, what is this room for?" Kawakaze asked, feeling uneasy about the atmosphere.
"Just dissections and stuff. Why are you asking so much? Just lie down."
Seeing Kawakaze hesitate, Orochimaru hurriedly urged him.
"Damn, promise you won't touch the knife."
For no reason, Kawakaze's mind conjured an image of Orochimaru pulling out his innards one by one, casually saying, "Yes, no problem," before stuffing them back in.
"I'll cut you into shreds," Orochimaru retorted, pulling Kawakaze over to the iron bed and pinning him down.
"Brother, I've treated you well. There's no need for this," Kawakaze said, pushing against Orochimaru's chest with a pitiful look.
"Damn it, speak normally," Orochimaru snapped, disgusted by Kawakaze's expression. He then forcefully restrained Kawakaze and ran his hands over him from head to toe.
"Quite healthy. It's just that your kidneys need toning up."
Without giving Kawakaze a second glance, Orochimaru clapped his hands, turned around, and opened the door to leave.
"Pah, you're the one who needs toning up," Kawakaze muttered, abruptly sitting up on the bed. How could any man admit that his kidneys weren't working?
Standing up, he ran his hands over his lower back. It does feel a little sore...
It might have been better if Orochimaru hadn't ntioned it, but now Kawakaze couldn't shake the suspicion. Do I really need to take it easy?
With this self-doubting attitude, Kawakaze left the room.
Tsunade had not yet co out, and Misaki was busy treating the mice under Orochimaru's guidance.
"Cough, cough~"
"Do I really need to take care of that?" Kawakaze leaned toward Orochimaru.
"Haha, you'll have to ask Tsunade then. I don't know if you have the strength," Orochimaru replied, clearly amused.
His words were t with a coincidental interruption as Tsunade, having just erged, overheard them.
"You two jerks, stop saying things that are not suitable for children!"
Smack! Smack!
A sharp, crisp sound echoed as Kawakaze and Orochimaru each found a lump forming on their heads.
Misaki, observing from nearby, seed to understand as she blushed slightly.
"Got it," the two n rubbed their heads, tears welling in their eyes. Tsunade's fist was painfully effective—a skill honed over years.
"Orochimaru, how's it going over there?" Tsunade asked as she inspected Misaki's work. The little white mouse was already hopping around, looking perfectly fine.
"Everything's normal," Orochimaru replied.
"That's good. We'll wait for the blood analysis report."
Satisfied with the results, Tsunade took Misaki away, likely to keep her sister-in-law from being influenced by their antics.
After a simple lunch, the blood analysis report was ready. Upon reviewing it, Tsunade confird that Kawakaze's body was ready for the transplant of Hashirama's Cells.
Given Kawakaze's robust physical condition, which surpassed even an ox's, Tsunade wasn't surprised by the results.
This ti, they didn't use the old dissecting room. Instead, Tsunade led them to a new operating room—specifically prepared for this mont.
Kawakaze, already changed into a loose surgical gown, entered the room and lay down on the cold operating table.
Five minutes later, Tsunade and Orochimaru arrived. Tsunade began by connecting Kawakaze to the monitoring equipnt, ensuring she could observe his physical condition in real ti.
After repeatedly confirming that the equipnt was functioning properly, Tsunade proceeded to the next step.
"Are you ready?"
"Go ahead."
Hearing Tsunade's question, Kawakaze extended his arm. The syringe containing the cloudy liquid had a long, thin needle at its tip. Not a single drop was wasted—this was the precise dosage Tsunade had calculated, and every drop was invaluable.
"Hoo..."
Tsunade took a deep breath to steady herself. Despite her thorough preparations, she couldn't suppress her worry.
"It's starting."
Tsunade carefully located a blood vessel, inserted the needle, and injected the entire contents of the syringe into Kawakaze's body. The transplant of Hashirama's Cells officially began.
At first, Kawakaze felt only a slight sting, like an ant bite, followed by the sensation of cold liquid coursing through his bloodstream.
In the first second, there was no discomfort—only a surprising sense of comfort. He couldn't help but think of Wood Release waving at him, the realization of a long-held wish to clap his hands and make miracles happen.
Seeing the calm expression on Kawakaze's face, Tsunade felt a montary sense of relief. Orochimaru, who had been tense, also relaxed slightly, though both continued to monitor the instrunt intently.
The data displayed on the monitor now held their full attention—it was the most reliable indicator.
Within the first minute, the Hashirama's Cells spread through Kawakaze's bloodstream, dispersing into his blood vessels.
Suddenly, his blood began to boil, and his blood pressure surged. An indescribable pain consud his body, contorting his face into a hideous grimace.
The data on the monitor fluctuated wildly.
"Ahhh!" Kawakaze's eyes widened as a cry of pain erupted, echoing through the operating room.
"Kawakaze!" Tsunade's composure broke, and she stepped forward, reaching for Kawakaze's hand.
"No, this is normal. You know that," Orochimaru said, stopping her with a calm exterior that belied his quickened heartbeat.
Tsunade bit her lip, her fists clenched tightly, unable to do anything but wait anxiously.
The monitor data, though fluctuating violently, remained within normal limits and showed no imdiate danger to Kawakaze's life.
"Ahhhhhh~!"
The edge of the operating table was crushed under Kawakaze's grip.
His exposed skin turned visibly red, a clear sign of his body's rising temperature.
As the pain intensified, Kawakaze could feel the cells in his body breaking down and reforming.
Beneath the surgical gown, distorted faces resembling Hashirama's appeared one after another. With his eyes closed, the pale masks stood out starkly against his original skin.
The fusion process continued as the faces twisted and disappeared, only to reappear monts later.
Kawakaze's voice grew hoarse from the relentless screaming, the duration of which he could no longer comprehend.
Then, abruptly, the pain vanished.
Kawakaze's eyes rolled upwards, leaving only the whites visible as his screams suddenly ceased. His eyelids slowly drooped shut, and his head slumped forward weakly—he had fallen into a coma.
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