Although Moriyue wanted to begin the experiment immediately, it was already getting late. Judging by yesterday's schedule, Kazeki and the others would probably come looking for him to train before long. Perhaps he should have stopped the experiment for now.
But as he looked at the heart before him—a heart that was utterly sanity-draining no matter how he looked at it—he wanted to test it as soon as possible. Leaving something halfway through to do something else made him feel awful.
It was like edging.
After thinking for a while, he wrote a few lines on a piece of paper and had a clone post it outside the door.
"Busy today. Let's discuss it tomorrow."
He didn't care. The mood had already built to this point—he had to transplant this heart and see what happened. Even if it failed, he could personally experience what was still lacking.
He shut the door and drew the curtains. To prevent someone from barging in again like before, he reinforced the door a little. It should be fine for the time being.
The moment his finger touched the heart wrapped in tentacles, it reacted like a shark that had smelled blood. Without Moriyue needing to guide it further, the tide-like tentacles immediately curled up his arm. Calling it a heart was no longer quite accurate. To prevent any possible—or impossible—situation like Kakuzu taking over his body, Moriyue had made many modifications to the heart, though even he couldn't say whether they were good or bad.
After all, developing forbidden jutsu meant defying the heavens. He had approached it with an experimental mindset, basically throwing every jutsu related to tentacles, vines, and sensory eyes onto that heart all at once.
At worst, he would just die once. It wasn't a big deal. Research required boldness;