Iwagakure's atmosphere these days was downright bizarre.
If anyone walked into the village now, they would definitely think they had stumbled into some cyberpunk junkyard.
The air reeked of burnt solder, mixed with the ozone smell drifting out of those massive generator rooms.
Even the old men squatting by the roadside selling dumplings had Chakra high-voltage guns hidden up their sleeves, capable of electrocuting someone into convulsions.
No one batted an eye at the ninjas patrolling in black powered armor anymore.
Yoru sat imposingly behind the Tsuchikage's desk. The corners were still covered in tea stains that had not been wiped clean over the past few days, brownish-yellow patches that felt sticky to the touch.
He spun a metal tentacle in his hand, swiped from the Research Department, carrying a faint smell of engine oil.
Orochimaru had forcibly pried it off Ōtsutsuki Isshiki's body. It had not yet been fully cleaned, and several blackened flesh buds still clung to it.
"So this is what they call a god-level civilization?"
Yoru tossed the tentacle onto the desk with a dull clang.
"Nothing special."
Yoru pulled a half-unwrapped piece of gum from his pocket, shoved it into his mouth, and chewed hard twice.
The sickening sweetness mixed with a rubbery taste made his brow knot up.
"Snake Uncle, how much of this bloodline evolution product can we make now?"
Yoru turned to look beside him.
Orochimaru was kneeling beside a cultivation tank, repeatedly wiping his claws, stained with green medicine, against his clothes. His white lab coat was covered in yellow medicinal stains, enough to make anyone gag.
"Lord Yoru, as long as we finish extracting the energy from that God Tree Seed..."
Orochimaru held the syringe containing dark golden liquid up to the light and gave it a shake.
It was