Uzumaki Bloodline

"Whoa!"

The Otogakure base was unusually noisy today. In the cafeteria, where the shinobi usually ate in silence, voices filled the air. Every Otogakure shinobi eating there had their eyes fixed on one spot, and quiet gasps of astonishment broke out from time to time.

"Who the hell is that kid?"

"That's his twentieth bowl, isn't it?"

"He can still eat another?"

At the center of the commotion was a table already covered in dishes. A red-haired kid who looked like a starving ghost reborn had his head down, wolfing down a bowl of ramen as if he meant to eat a lifetime's worth of food in one sitting. His chopsticks moved so fast they almost left afterimages, and the ramen in his bowl rapidly dwindled.

Finally, just as the cook was on the verge of tears, the red-haired kid stopped eating, and all the onlookers breathed out in relief.

"Well, my stomach's been empty for so long that I shouldn't eat my fill. I'll just eat until I'm thirty percent full today!" the red-haired kid muttered to himself. Then he flashed the terrified cook a sunny smile and gave him a thumbs-up. "You're a great cook, mister! I'll come back tomorrow and give your food my full attention!"

With a thud, the cook rolled his eyes and collapsed unconscious on the floor, leaving the somewhat embarrassed boy to quietly lower his hand.

Just then, a low, stern voice echoed through the cafeteria.

"What are you making all that noise for? Are you trying to disgrace Lord Orochimaru, or do you want to become his... test subjects?"

As the voice fell, the air in the entire hall seemed to freeze. The crowd fell deathly silent, turning fearful eyes toward the man who had spoken. Almost everyone knew the miserable fate of those who became Orochimaru's test subjects.

The man looked like a boy himself, and was evidently another member of Orochimaru's orphanage.

Beneath his silver-gray hair, his eyes were gloomy, and his dark lips were coated in black gloss. His makeup style closely resembled Orochimaru's.

What stood out in particular was what looked like a puppet strapped to his back.

"Lord Sakon!"

The man who had crawled out of a pile of test subjects' corpses and earned Orochimaru's approval wore a chilling smile. Wherever he passed, everyone respectfully stepped aside, not daring to show him the slightest disrespect.

Sakon walked straight up to the culprit behind the commotion, scrutinizing the newcomer who had already caused a disturbance at the base.

"Senior Sakon!"

Dōmeki smiled brightly, though in the gloomy underground base, his smile looked decidedly out of place.

But Sakon met the boy with a disdainful sneer, making his smile stiffen.

Bastard. I went to all the trouble of practicing it, and even the cow trio gave it their seal of approval, but this guy has no appreciation for it?

"Kid, Lord Orochimaru ordered me to take you to the laboratory. I hope you can still smile that happily when we get there!"

Without waiting for the boy to answer, Sakon snorted, turned, and left.

Dōmeki glanced worriedly at the unconscious, fat cook, then hurried after him.

Throughout the trip, Sakon remained unresponsive. He simply led Dōmeki to the door of a room and left without looking back.

A certain petty fellow was quietly writing Sakon down in his mental notebook when Orochimaru's familiar voice came from inside the room.

"Dōmeki-kun, please come in!"

Dōmeki frowned and pushed open the heavy door.

Unlike the dimly lit corridor, the first thing that met the boy's eyes was a brilliant white light. Beneath it, an enormous laboratory bench held an assortment of test tubes and precision instruments. For a moment, Dōmeki felt as though he had transmigrated back to modern society.

But the rows of glass jars against the wall, filled with strange creatures or what were clearly human limbs and organs suspended in liquid, reminded the boy of his actual circumstances.

Orochimaru, dressed in a white lab coat, was using a dropper to drip liquid into a Petri dish.

Suddenly, a mass of white flesh expanded rapidly from the dish. Then branches brimming with life burst out of it, piercing the surrounding instruments and test tubes and smashing them to pieces before swiftly withering away.

Orochimaru, however, was used to it. He burned the failed product to ashes with a Fire Style jutsu before turning around.

Looking at the boy's red hair, made even more vibrant by his full meal, Orochimaru smiled more broadly.

"Dōmeki-kun, I need some of your blood and skin cells!"

Seeing the boy extend his thin arm without the slightest hesitation, Orochimaru smiled and took out a syringe.

As he drew the boy's blood, Orochimaru unconsciously extended his tongue and swept it across the boy's face.

"Dōmeki-kun, have you heard of the Uzumaki ninja clan?"

Dōmeki tilted his head and pretended not to understand. "Uzumaki?"

Orochimaru said leisurely, "The Uzumaki Group was an ancient ninja clan that had existed since the Warring States period, famous throughout the Shinobi World for its mastery of Sealing Jutsu."

"What's more, the Uzumaki Clan were distant relatives of Lord Hashirama Senju, the former God of Shinobi. They, too, were known for their powerful constitutions and enormous reserves of Chakra."

Seeing that the boy had gone pale from blood loss but had not made a sound, Orochimaru stopped and took out a sharp scalpel.

As the blade sliced through flesh, Orochimaru continued his explanation to Dōmeki.

"Of course, none of that matters. What's important is that the Uzumaki Clan's most famous feature was that they all had vibrant red hair!"

"Red hair?"

Dōmeki had already guessed what Orochimaru meant. Thinking back on the red hair he had inherited from his mother, his healthy body despite long-term malnutrition, and the Chakra he possessed, which was already abundant for his age, he realized the guess was not without merit.

After all, an ordinary Genin would do well to perform a single C-rank Ninjutsu, while he could use several without breaking a sweat.

A smile curved Orochimaru's lips. He placed the experimental samples in designated containers, then turned and used Medical Ninjutsu on Dōmeki's wounds. The scene actually looked a little... heartwarming?

Of course, he generally only showed such tenderness to people who were useful to him.

The more Orochimaru looked at the boy, the more pleased he was. At such a young age, he had talent far beyond that of ordinary people, and he could remain calm and create a chance of survival when his life was on the line. On top of that, he had a bloodline considered powerful even in the Shinobi World. His only shortcoming was probably that he lacked those eyes...

A genius?

Orochimaru licked his lips again. He loved nothing more than collecting geniuses like this, letting their talents shine at their brightest, and then...

"Dōmeki-kun, I'm very pleased with you. Is there a reward you'd like?"

Orochimaru wore an eager, expectant look.

"A reward?" Dōmeki rubbed his chin. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands.

"Orochimaru! I want that Ninjutsu!"