When Jiraiya grew irritated by his confusion about the future.
Orochimaru, far away in Konoha, was just as frustrated!
A secret experimental base outside the village.
Dark and damp, reeking of formaldehyde and blood.
Inside a massive glass container, a lump of flesh seemed alive as it writhed violently.
Orochimaru's golden slit pupils contracted as he stared fixedly at the container, his face twisted with morbid fervor.
He picked up a syringe filled with dark green liquid and carefully injected it into the container.
This was his latest result, extracted from the First Generation Cells and improved dozens of times.
"Just like that... merge..."
Orochimaru extended his long tongue and licked his cracked lips, his voice hoarse with excitement.
However.
The next second.
The flesh inside the container suddenly expanded, pustules swelling across its surface.
Bang!!!
A thunderous explosion rang out.
The specially reinforced glass shattered.
Foul-smelling flesh and green fluid splattered across the walls and floor.
The experiment had failed again.
Orochimaru froze in place, the frenzy fading from his face.
Looking at the empty shelves and the few remaining crates of nutrient solution in the corner, his expression darkened at once.
That syringe had contained the last of the First Generation Cells.
Once it was used, there would be no more!
Even the funds for purchasing experimental equipment were nearly gone.
His research had reached its most critical stage, yet he had to stop for the most ridiculous reason.
He was out of money.
Root had been uprooted, Danzo was dead and his clan destroyed, cutting off Orochimaru's greatest source of funding completely.
Over the past few days, he had sold off every asset he could, barely gathering enough materials for this experiment.
Now, he was completely at the end of his rope.
He could no longer continue