The Gentlest Impure World Reincarnation

Orochimaru swallowed his cake and studied Toji with curiosity.

Orochimaru's brain was still developing. It took him a moment to match the man before him to someone in his memory.

This was Toji Zenin, the man his mother often mentioned.

Toji's name and portrait were printed on the front page of Will of Fire. Seeing him in person made him feel much more real.

He wore a white haori, and his eyes held an almost sorrowful tenderness. Though Orochimaru was too young to understand it, instinct told him there was something extraordinary about the man.

Even the way he stood was frightening.

Orochimaru wasn't shy. He looked up at Toji with wide, curious eyes.

Toji looked back at Orochimaru.

At one year old, Orochimaru was still tiny, but the man he would become was already faintly visible.

He had inherited his mother's slit pupils perfectly. A natural wash of purple around his eyes lent him a gloomy air that sent a chill down the spine.

Wasn't something off?

Toji vaguely remembered Orochimaru as a harmless, handsome little boy.

Only after he began working with Danzo had he gradually changed.

So why did he already have this sinister air about him?

That wasn't good.

Matsumoto Kazuka took Orochimaru's hand and introduced them. "Orochimaru, this is Toji Zenin. You should address him as Lord Toji."

"Lord Toji," Orochimaru repeated.

He placed the last piece of cake on a tray and held it up to Toji. "Lord Toji, have some cake."

Seeing Orochimaru like this stirred a strange sense of affection in Toji.

Looking down at him, Toji asked, "Is the cake good?"

"Yes! It's the best thing I've ever eaten."

"Then keep it for yourself. I don't like cake."

Toji's tone was cool.

But to Matsumoto Kazuka, his coldness was a deliberate