"Interesting."
Orochimaru extended his long tongue, curling it deep into his own throat.
There was a gulp.
A long sword gleaming with cold light slowly emerged from his mouth, coated in clear slime.
Its blade was slender and gave off a heart-stopping aura of sharpness.
The Kusanagi Sword.
One of the legendary divine weapons of the Shinobi World, it could slice through iron like mud.
Watching this, Son Goten scrunched up his entire face.
He took a step back and covered his nose.
"Ugh."
"Old man, what kind of weird sword-swallowing fetish is this?"
"Doesn't keeping a sword in your stomach hurt? And all that spit on it... that's so unhygienic!"
Son Goten pointed at the sword, his face full of rejection.
"Don't stab me with that. It's filthy."
Orochimaru gripped the hilt and gave a cruel smile.
"Filthy?"
"Soon, you won't care about that."
"Because dead people don't find things filthy."
Before he had finished speaking.
Orochimaru's figure suddenly blurred.
His body defied the structure of human joints, sliding along the ground in an utterly bizarre posture like a slithering python.
His speed was astonishing.
In the blink of an eye, the sword tip was already closing in on Son Goten's face, trailing a foul wind.
It aimed straight for those big eyes.
If the body was tough, attack its weakest point.
That was common knowledge among ninja.
"Dodge!"
Sasuke shouted with all his strength from nearby.
His Sharingan had caught the sword's trajectory, and he had also recognized its origins.
It was a divine weapon capable of severing the flow of chakra.
Even Iwagakure's toughest Earth Release: Earth-Style Wall was no different from tofu before this blade.
If it pierced his eyes, he would definitely die!
Faced with this lethal strike.
Son Goten did not retreat.
Nor did he dodge.
He merely gave a somewhat bored yawn, then gently closed his eyelids.
As though he were tired and wanted a nap.
Sasuke's heart sank to rock bottom.
Was this idiot scared stupid?
The sword tip struck Son Goten's eyelid without any obstruction.
Clink!
A crisp, ringing clash of metal echoed through the forest.
There was no spray of blood.
Nor was there a scream.
The Kusanagi Sword, which supposedly could cut through anything, bent into an exaggerated arc under the tremendous recoil.
Orochimaru's sword hand shook violently at the wrist.
The web between his thumb and forefinger went numb.
He felt as though his thrust had struck not a human eyelid, but a diamond that had remained unchanged for ten thousand years.
How was that possible?
Shock filled Orochimaru's golden, slit-pupiled eyes.
The eyelids were among the thinnest areas of skin on the human body.
Even reinforced with chakra, they could not possibly withstand the edge of the Kusanagi Sword head-on.
What on earth was this kid's skin made of?
Son Goten suddenly opened his eyes.
Orochimaru's astonished face was reflected in those clear black-and-white eyes.
"That's it?"
Son Goten was a little disappointed.
He raised his right hand and clamped his fingers around the Kusanagi Sword's blade like iron pincers.
Orochimaru instinctively tried to pull the sword back.
It did not budge.
That small hand looked pale and soft, yet possessed terrifying strength capable of moving mountains.
"This is your weapon?"
Son Goten curled his lip.
"It's too dull even to trim my toenails."
With that.
His fingers tightened slightly.
Creeeak-
The grating sound of twisting metal made their scalps prickle.
Under Orochimaru's and Sasuke's stunned gazes.
The incomparably hard blade of the divine weapon began to deform and cave in beneath Son Goten's fingertips.
Several clear fingerprints were deeply stamped into it.
"Bend!"
Son Goten flicked his wrist.
Crack!
The Kusanagi Sword let out a mournful cry as it was bent into a ninety-degree angle.
This divine weapon, renowned throughout the Shinobi World, now looked like a strip of scrap iron someone had broken while playing with it.
Orochimaru let go and shot backward more than ten meters.
As he looked at the ruined sword, the shock in his eyes turned to fervor.
It was the fervor of someone who had discovered an enormous, untouched treasure trove.
"This hardness... it isn't the Earth Release: Hardening Technique."
Orochimaru muttered to himself.
"And there's no sign of chakra flowing."
"Pure physical strength?"
"Could it be some unknown variant of the Shikotsumyaku? Or perhaps..."
His mind raced, analyzing every possibility.
As a scientist who pursued truth, he trembled all over with excitement at this existence that defied common sense.
Son Goten casually tossed the bent sword onto the ground.
"Hey, long-tongued freak."
"What are you thinking about so hard?"
Son Goten's voice abruptly rang out beside Orochimaru's ear.
Orochimaru quickly turned his head.
At some point, the brat had crossed the dozen or so meters between them and appeared at his side.
This speed...
There had been absolutely no warning of a chakra burst.
Pure explosive muscle power.
"Take this!"
Son Goten raised his leg and delivered a side kick.
Simple.
Brutal.
Without any fancy technique.
Yet the wind pressure it stirred up sent the surrounding leaves rustling loudly.
Orochimaru had no time at all to form hand seals.
His body once again displayed that inhuman suppleness.
His waist folded backward at an acute angle as though it had no bones.
His entire body slid out along the ground.
He avoided the kick by the narrowest of margins.
Boom!
The wind from the missed kick swept through the spot where Orochimaru had just stood.
A towering tree behind it snapped sharply, breaking in half at the trunk.
Wood chips flew everywhere.
Although Orochimaru had dodged the direct impact, the fierce wind still grazed his face.
Riiip.
There was a soft sound.
A split opened in the pale skin on Orochimaru's face.
But no blood flowed beneath it.
Instead, another layer of skin was exposed.
It was like someone wearing a mask whose mask had broken, revealing the true face underneath.
Son Goten lowered his leg and looked at the split in Orochimaru's face.
The flesh curling up at its edges looked particularly awkward.
"I was wondering why you looked so weird and creepy."
Son Goten rubbed the goosebumps on his arms, his face full of disgust.
"So you're wearing a mask."
"No, wait."
Son Goten took a closer look.
"That doesn't look like a mask. It looks more like you stuck someone else's face onto your own."
"How many layers of skin are you wearing, anyway?"
"You're like an onion. Peel off one layer, and there's another."
Son Goten waved his hand as though shooing away a fly.
"Just go already. Looking at you ruins my appetite."
"I still need to find something to eat."
Orochimaru touched the split on his cheek.
He straightened up, and rather than growing angry, he let out a low, hoarse laugh.
"Hehehe..."
"Too perfect."
"Nothing less than a gift from heaven."
Orochimaru looked at Son Goten, his gaze no longer holding mere killing intent, but a hair-raising possessiveness.
Ordinary ninjutsu did not work on this brat.
Physical attacks could not even breach his defenses.
Even genjutsu was ignored.
Such a vessel was hundreds or thousands of times more enticing than the Sharingan.
"Since force won't work."
Orochimaru licked his lips, his neck stretching unnaturally.
"Then I'll give you a special gift."
"Once you have it, you'll never escape my grasp."
He decided to give this brat the Cursed Seal he had originally prepared for Sasuke as well.
Once the Cursed Seal was planted.
This perfect body would be his sooner or later.
Seeing the dangerous look in Orochimaru's eyes, Sasuke fought back his fear and shouted:
"Goten! Watch out for his neck!"
Son Goten picked his ear impatiently.
"His neck?"
"What's so great about having a long neck? Want to see me tie it in a knot?"
Before you continue