Those Who Are Enlightened Are Always Happy

Near midnight, most of the vast village of Konoha had sunk into dreams.

Of course, a very small number of people had no intention of wasting their precious time on the same things as ordinary people.

To Orochimaru, time was the most precious "treasure" in this world.

Though it was already late at night, and even the diligent Third Hokage had returned home to rest, Orochimaru remained in his laboratory.

As the Third Hokage's disciple and one of the Legendary Sannin, Orochimaru's status and influence more than qualified him to possess an independent research facility, fully equipped and adequately staffed, even furnished with the relatively precious commodity known as "electricity."

Inside the laboratory, bright as day, Orochimaru stood in a white kimono, quietly gazing at his "experimental result."

"O-Orochimaru-sama." The experimenter responsible for recording the research results looked extremely nervous. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow and swallowed. "The experiment failed. The test subject simply couldn't withstand that energy."

Inside the isolated room, visible through the glass, a person struggled and screamed in agony before their body gradually turned into wood.

Almost in the blink of an eye, a living person was completely consumed by the woodification, becoming a lifelike wooden sculpture. Tender green branches and leaves sprouted from every part of the body, creating an eerie sight.

Orochimaru's narrow eyes shifted slightly, his cold and sharp gaze falling upon the recorder.

"O-Orochimaru-sama." The recorder shuddered all over, feeling as though he had been targeted by a venomous snake. The fear deep within his heart erupted, making him instinctively take several steps back.

After a moment of silence, Orochimaru did not make things difficult for him. His hoarse voice vibrated through the air like a snake flicking its tongue. "Go back and report the results to the Third Generation."

"Yes, Orochimaru-sama."

The recorder let out a relieved breath, then fled in panic.

Too terrifying. It was simply too terrifying!

Just being stared at by those pale gold vertical pupils gave him the illusion that he was about to be swallowed by a python.

Watching the recorder flee as if for his life, Orochimaru felt no ripple in his heart.

Rather, he did not care about other people's opinions, nor could he be bothered with how they viewed him. The only thing worth his concern was the true meaning of life.

"Another failure." Orochimaru gathered his thoughts, a trace of chill flashing through his narrow eyes as he sneered. "The First Hokage's power truly isn't so easy to control. It seems I'll have to disappoint Teacher again. Hmm. The number of test subjects is running a little low as well."

As he spoke, he walked to his desk and sat down, pulling out a scroll to record the experiments from this period one by one.

At the end of the scroll, after pondering for a moment, Orochimaru wrote: "Wood Release research is progressing slowly. At least one hundred more test subjects are required."

After doing all this, even Orochimaru, who was close to Kage Level, could not help feeling somewhat weary.

Days of sleepless thought turned into a heavy wave of drowsiness once he finally relaxed, dragging him slowly into sleep.

"Hmm... I'll rest for a little while."

Thinking this, Orochimaru slowly relaxed, his narrow eyes gradually closing.

Just as he thought that, thick black mist swept toward him, mixed with a deep murmur, as though millions of people were whispering to one another. In an instant, it engulfed him.

"I'm under attack?!"

That was Orochimaru's last thought.

Then, he felt his consciousness swept up by some force and dragged downward into boundless darkness.

The instant he regained consciousness, Orochimaru assumed a fighting stance at incredible speed, his eyes rapidly scanning his surroundings.

A towering, majestic Church of Bones. Its dome was piled high with the bones of countless different creatures, and those pairs of hollow eye sockets seemed to be scrutinizing the tiny person in the hall below.

Eerie and sacred.

Two utterly contradictory qualities had blended perfectly within this church.

"It seems someone else has been chosen by My Lord."

The indistinct figure standing beneath the enormous Bone Cross spoke calmly. "There is no need to be nervous. At the very least, no one here can threaten your life."

"When did that person appear?" Orochimaru looked toward the voice, his pupils abruptly shrinking. "I didn't sense his presence at all!"

Though he was not a sensory-type ninja, as a Kage Level powerhouse, he naturally had no obvious weaknesses.

Yet this mysterious person before him had somehow evaded his senses!

"Who exactly are you? Invading Konoha without permission—are you trying to provoke a war?" Thoughts raced through Orochimaru's mind, but his expression remained calm. He licked his dry lips and said in a threatening tone, "It's merely genjutsu. Do you think you can trap me with it?"

The Church of Bones, the mysterious figure, the darkness after falling asleep.

Putting these clues together, there was only one answer—he had fallen into some kind of "genjutsu"!

Orochimaru formed hand seals, Chakra erupting. "Genjutsu, release!"

Boom!

A shockwave surged through the church's hall.

When the shockwave dispersed, Orochimaru found himself still inside the church, with nothing around him changed. His expression darkened. "Such powerful genjutsu... Who exactly are you?"

"I am the Master's Agent, the King of Angels under My Lord. You may call me Adam."

Uchiha Sōgetsu descended the steps, his voice calm yet filled with majesty, echoing through the hall like a sacred hymn. "This is neither genjutsu nor a dream. It is My Lord's Divine Kingdom. And you, Orochimaru, are a messenger chosen by My Lord. Our meeting is fate. Everything is to awaken that sleeping 'Primal Creator.'"

Who am I? Where am I? What am I supposed to do?

Orochimaru's mind was full of question marks. He was certain he understood every word the other party said, yet when put together, they made no sense at all.

"Do you believe in fate?"

Uchiha Sōgetsu said indifferently.

Orochimaru frowned, suddenly seized by a bad premonition. "What do you mean?"

"My meaning is simple." Uchiha Sōgetsu spoke softly. "Suppose you knew everything you would experience in the future. Would the 'you' of the present feel happy?"

"Utterly ridiculous!" Orochimaru sneered, folding his arms across his chest. "Are you saying you can see my future?"

"If one knows the outcome of one's future, as well as every hardship endured on the path toward that outcome, can that be called enlightenment?" Uchiha Sōgetsu asked and answered his own question. He slowly approached Orochimaru, circling around him. "As the saying goes, those who are enlightened are always happy. What do you think, Orochimaru?"

"An interesting question."

That strange question actually piqued Orochimaru's interest. He licked his lips and gave a wicked chuckle. "Knowing fate but being unable to change it—how could that possibly be called happiness?"

"Everyone is a slave to fate. You may struggle against fate, but you will never succeed."

Uchiha Sōgetsu said calmly, "Since that is the case, why not accept it peacefully? So long as one possesses enlightenment, even if one already knows one's future fate, surely one can face it calmly. Is that not also a kind of happiness?"

"It seems we cannot reach an agreement on what fate means."

Orochimaru snorted, his pale purple eyeshadow narrowing. "If there is nothing else, you had better let me leave quickly. Otherwise..."

He secretly formed a hand seal. Several venomous snakes flicked their tongues as they slithered from within the wide sleeves of his kimono.

"Stop, Orochimaru."

In an instant, a figure appeared behind Orochimaru like a ghost.

Clang!

A chilling streak of white light flashed.

Orochimaru felt a faint chill against the skin of his neck. Lowering his gaze slightly, he saw a short blade pressed against his throat.

The sharp edge of the short blade left him with no doubt that if he made even the slightest move, his head would have to say goodbye to his body.

"This blade..." Staring at the short blade against his neck, Orochimaru's pupils suddenly contracted. As though he had seen something horrifying, he turned to look at the person holding him hostage.

Long silver-white hair tied into a ponytail, a somewhat middle-aged face—he looked like an ordinary uncle.

Yet that familiar face made Orochimaru's breathing stop in an instant. He froze as though struck by lightning. "You're... White Fang? Hatake Sakumo! You're not dead?!"