"Hmm, what happened?"
Orochimaru walked in, his gaze flicking toward the shattered cup on the floor and the expression Menma had yet to compose.
"How unusual. Even our leader has moments when he loses his composure. Is it because of Madara's defeat...?"
"...Orochimaru, I want you to win."
Menma ignored the faint mockery in Orochimaru's words, his tone suddenly turning stern.
"Hmm? Really? We absolutely have to win?" Orochimaru squeezed his own arm. "Then I suggest you commit all our fighting strength to the next match, including yourself."
"Fine. Can you guarantee victory?"
Menma's reply made Orochimaru narrow his eyes slightly. Their leader's demands had changed.
Previously, when Menma spoke to them about the organization's approach to the Shinobi War, he had told them to participate and cooperate with Konoha.
But now, Menma's tone was practically an order.
"I was joking, Leader. You saw it yourself earlier. With Konoha's Naruto Uzumaki still waiting in the wings, who could guarantee victory?"
Orochimaru shrugged and withdrew his suggestion.
"He won't participate."
"Oh... Why is that? Because he's a witness, merely observing like those animal sages?"
Orochimaru's interest was immediately piqued.
"...That's not the point. Go prepare everyone to participate in the next Shinobi War match."
"Oh dear, what a shame. I won't be able to fight alongside the organization." Orochimaru's eyes shifted, and he suddenly sighed. "I've already signed up for this match. I'm afraid it's too late to make arrangements."
"Hmm?"
Menma's expression chilled, and Orochimaru abruptly felt an indescribably immense pressure!
"Orochimaru, I'm not joking."
"Ugh..."
Orochimaru felt as though he had returned to that moment in the Akatsuki when Itachi had turned his paralysis technique against him with the Sharingan. No, he was even more helpless than he had been then.
Orochimaru could sense that Menma bore no killing