Orochimaru hadn't left the basement for two days.
Tsunade brought meals down to him three times. The first two came back untouched; by the third, even the bowl was gone—Orochimaru had taken it to use as a crucible.
On the morning of the third day, the basement's iron door burst open from within.
Orochimaru charged up the stairs, his white robe covered in scorch marks and stains from unidentified liquids. His eye sockets were sunken, but his pupils gleamed frighteningly bright.
He held a wooden box in each hand.
"It's done."
Orochimaru set the boxes on the dining table. Nawaki, who was feeding Kakashi egg porridge, looked up.
The box on the left contained twenty explosive tags arranged in neat rows. They were two shades darker than the military's standard explosive tags, with dark-red chakra-conducting patterns along their edges.
The box on the right held ten palm-sized scrolls, their casings engraved with simple green patterns.
"Chakra Storage Explosive Tags, mass-production version." Orochimaru pointed to the left box, his voice trembling. "They're three times as powerful as military standard issue, with forty percent better stability. The crucial part is—they don't require the user to have any chakra foundation. Ordinary people can set them off just by pulling the cord."
Then he pointed at the box on the right.
"Portable Medical Scrolls. The user presses the wound against the scroll's surface, and chakra is released automatically. They can stop bleeding, reduce inflammation, and promote shallow tissue regeneration. Each scroll can be used three times."
After saying that, Orochimaru looked up and stared straight at Nawaki.
"What about the cost?" Nawaki picked up an explosive tag and turned it over.
"Seven ryo per explosive tag. Twelve ryo per medical scroll."
Tsunade happened to be walking past with a teacup. Hearing that number, her