“The night really is perfect for beasts to hunt.”
Orochimaru approached Hakken with unhurried ease. For the first ti, he studied this obscure boy with genuine curiosity.
“No Kekkei Genkai. No clan background.”
“A war orphan left behind after the Third Shinobi World War.”
“Other than that one ti when you fought back against an older bully, nearly biting through his neck and revealing your feral nature, there’s nothing remarkable about you.”
His tongue slid slowly across his lips as the curiosity in his eyes deepened.
“Yet this seemingly ordinary child, at just five years old, can already control chakra nature transformation—sothing most jōnin can’t even manage.”
“And that composure in your swordsmanship… far too steady for soone your age.”
“Why is that, I wonder?”
With his arms folded, Orochimaru’s tone carried clear admiration.
Indeed.
While reviewing all of Hakken’s records in his laboratory, Orochimaru had been astonished.
Neither his father nor his mother, nor even their ancestors, had any ties to the so-called Kekkei Genkai clans.
For three generations, his family had been ordinary citizens of Konoha.
His parents were low-ranking chūnin. During the Third Shinobi World War, that rank ant little more than cannon fodder.
The child of such parents should have lived and died as a faceless nobody, shouldn’t he?
Bloodline determines everything.
That was Orochimaru’s belief, the foundation of his research.
He, too, had been born a commoner, and his lifelong obsession had been finding a way to transcend his own bloodline.
The Living Corpse Reincarnation was the result of that obsession.
Itachi Uchiha had been the first target he set his sights on.
“It’s nightti. While the Third isn’t busy spying with his crystal ball, shouldn’t you be out collecting children for your experints instead of bothering here?”
Mirroring Orochimaru’s posture, Hakken crossed his arms calmly, his tone unwavering.
He’d just called out Orochimaru’s human experints without hesitation.
His confidence ca from his strength.
Though Hakken had never fully unleashed even five percent of his complete Zaraki Kenpachi template, a demon was still a demon.
The raging spirit of battle feared nothing.
With that power inherited, if he dared, even that re five percent would be enough to carve sothing out of Orochimaru.
But Hakken was certain Orochimaru wouldn’t dare to fight seriously inside Konoha. Doing so would only bring trouble and risk exposing his experints prematurely.
So this visit was nothing more than a test.
And if that was the case, what reason did Hakken have to be afraid?
Besides, Orochimaru hadn’t attacked outright.
“You certainly know a lot.”
Orochimaru’s pupils narrowed, a sharp killing intent flickering in his eyes.
For an instant, he beca completely serious—but just as quickly, that seriousness faded, replaced by a sly smile.
“Continuing from what I said earlier…”
“A re commoner achieving what even the Kekkei Genkai clans cannot.”
“So, Hakken Yoru-kun, I’m very curious about your secret.”
“As for your comnt about night being ideal for kidnapping test subjects—I believe the best test subject right now is you.”
“Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!”
Swish!
Orochimaru extended his arm, and several vicious serpents shot from his sleeve, lunging toward Hakken through the air.
Hidden Shadow Snake Hands—Orochimaru’s signature probing attack!
But to Hakken, it posed no threat at all.
Just like in his training with Itachi, a single clean swing of his blade sliced through the snakes, severing their heads in one motion.
“Put away your toys, Mr. Snake.”
Hakken looked calmly at Orochimaru before flicking the blade in his hand.
There wasn’t the slightest trace of fear in his eyes. In fact, the longer this confrontation went on, the calr he beca.
The more Orochimaru relied on his Living Corpse Reincarnation, the more confident Hakken felt that he could crush him whenever he wished.
The reason was simple.
His sword.
It wasn’t just for ordinary slashing.
Who was Zaraki Kenpachi?
Captain of the 11th Division of the Gotei 13—the combat squad.
A Shinigami.
And Shinigami possessed countless ways to attack the soul, with the most fundantal being the explosive force of a basic slash.
At that mont, the blade in Hakken’s hand had already evolved into sothing greater—a Zanpakutō.
That’s right. Upon unlocking five percent of Zaraki Kenpachi’s power, the beginner’s sword granted by the system had transford into a basic Zanpakutō.
Even Zaraki Kenpachi, who couldn’t perform Bankai in his early days, was still a Shinigami.
And a Shinigami’s Zanpakutō was the most effective weapon against the soul.
But Orochimaru’s probing wasn’t over yet.
Reaching out, he summoned a sharp short sword into his hand.
They were still within Konoha’s training grounds. Orochimaru knew full well that making too much noise would attract unwanted attention from nearby shinobi.
Compared to Hakken, he was even more determined not to expose himself prematurely and draw the attention of the higher-ups.
Thus, swordsmanship was the best way to test him.
And while at it, he wanted to see just how skilled this young swordsman truly was.
Clang! Clang!
Their figures crossed in a blur, the clash of blades marking the start of a battle that was anything but even.
Orochimaru couldn’t go all out here, but he was confident he could suppress the boy, capture him, and take him to his laboratory to uncover the secrets hidden within his body.
Failure?
That thought had never occurred to him.
“Brat, I am Orochimaru!”
Once I’ve marked you, you’re my prey!
Just as Hakken had said—when two beasts et, a battle is inevitable!
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