Naruto: End of the Shinobi World

Tsunade didn’t even know whether she should feel anger… or sorrow.

Or perhaps a strange sense of ”relief”—that Orochimaru, in some twisted way, had at least ”taken in” these unstable variables instead of letting them immediately turn into pure anti-Konoha fanatics.

The thought flickered through her mind—

And she crushed it instantly.

Jiraiya’s expression, meanwhile, went through an entire spectrum—shock, speechlessness, and finally a look that plainly read: I can’t even with this.

He scratched his white hair, glanced at Tsunade’s complicated expression, then at Hiruzen Sarutobi—who looked as though he had aged twenty years in a single sitting.

In the end, he managed only one sentence:

”Orochimaru… does he have some kind of special… hobby? Or strategy… for collecting traumatized, emotionally damaged young talents?”

Even saying it felt awkward.

But the facts were undeniable.

Orochimaru had an uncanny ability to pinpoint those ”valuable specimens” who had ”fallen” due to Konoha’s internal failings—then graciously ”accept” them in his own way.

Was he simply lucky?

Or did he just have terrifyingly sharp instincts?

The Heavenly Screen advanced rapidly, showcasing Kabuto’s ”growth” after following Orochimaru.

Kabuto absorbed knowledge voraciously—medical ninjutsu, forbidden techniques, experimental research methods.

He quickly became Orochimaru’s most capable assistant—effectively the organization’s second-in-command.

Orochimaru appeared to value and trust him highly. For a time, the two maintained a warped but stable mentor–disciple relationship… or perhaps partnership.

Then—

The turning point arrived.

A black-haired youth with defiant eyes and a heart full of hatred appeared on screen—

Uchiha Sasuke.

Orochimaru’s attention shifted immediately, locked onto this new, even more promising ”vessel.”

Resources and focus tilted toward Sasuke’s cultivation.

Whether intentionally or not, Kabuto’s position was adjusted—perhaps even sidelined.

Time accelerated.

Three years passed in a blink.

The scene froze on betrayal.

Uchiha Sasuke, in pursuit of greater power, personally killed his nominal ”master”—

Orochimaru.

”Pfft—!”

Outside the base, the actual Orochimaru covered his face with one hand and let out a sound that was half annoyance, half self-mockery.

”Well now…”

He lowered his hand. His golden eyes were filled with resignation—and a touch of absurdity.

”How many times have I ’died’ on that screen already?”

”My status as one of the Legendary Sannin is becoming increasingly… inexpensive.”

”HAHAHAHA—!! Orochimaru, you’re pathetic!” Karin burst into unrestrained laughter, nearly doubling over. She pointed at the screen, then at him. ”Look, look! You died again! And Sasuke was the one who did it! I’m dying—this is hilarious!”

…Right. I officially have no dignity left.

Aside from Kabuto being obedient.

As for Sasuke and Karin… I didn’t recruit subordinates. I adopted ancestors.

Orochimaru’s face darkened completely.

He turned slowly toward Karin, his tone turning icy.

”Karin. I raised you. Fed you. Taught you. Helped you ’build your enterprise.’”

”Not only did you show no intention of avenging me… you immediately followed Sasuke the moment he appeared. Isn’t that a bit excessive?”

This wasn’t speculation—the Heavenly Screen had shown it before. Karin had zero interest in revenge. The moment she saw Sasuke, she left without hesitation.

Karin’s laughter halted abruptly. Her expression shifted—briefly embarrassed.

Then her eyes darted, and she immediately switched to an innocent, sly smile.

”How could that be, Orochimaru~?”

”I was just… curious about Uchiha Sasuke! Curious what makes him so special.”

”Once I’ve satisfied my curiosity and figured him out, I’ll definitely kill him for you. Consider it repayment.”

”Yes! I’ll absolutely kill Sasuke!”

She said it with absolute conviction—like eliminating a prodigy of the Uchiha clan was no harder than squashing an insect.

But her flickering eyes and overly exaggerated tone made it entirely unconvincing.

Orochimaru studied her for a long moment, then chose not to pursue it further.

He knew Karin’s loyalty extended only to her mysterious ”Demon God” and her own interests.

She was never truly his.

Instead, his gaze shifted to Kabuto.

Since the Heavenly Screen revealed the photo deception and his own ”death,” Kabuto had maintained an eerie silence.

Orochimaru pondered:

Sasuke is unreliable.

Karin is even worse.

What about Kabuto?

The assistant I saved and personally cultivated… outwardly gentle and obedient, inwardly calculating and deep.

In the future shown by the screen—after my ”death”—what will he do?

Will he avenge me?

Or does he have his own designs?

The thought sparked both caution—and faint curiosity.

If even Kabuto ultimately chose betrayal, would that not prove something?

That everyone Orochimaru ”cultivated” carried within them a seed of rebellion.

From a certain perspective… that, too, could be called success.

Even if that ”success” cost him his life.

He didn’t voice the question aloud.

He simply cast Kabuto a long, meaningful glance.

Kabuto noticed.

He adjusted his glasses, that gentle, harmless smile returning to his face. He inclined his head slightly toward Orochimaru—but said nothing.

Everything remained unspoken.

Or rather—

Hidden beneath deeper layers of calculation.

The Heavenly Screen continued.

Focus shifted to Kabuto after Orochimaru’s ”death.”

The base lay in ruins. Orochimaru’s presence had completely vanished.

Uchiha Sasuke emerged from what had once been Orochimaru’s chamber, carrying the sharp chill of newly acquired power—and lingering killing intent.

His gaze fell briefly on Kabuto standing nearby.

Contempt.

Assessment.

Then dismissal.

”Hmph. Not worth recruiting.”

”Not even worth killing.”

Leaving behind those cold words, Sasuke turned and walked away from the former serpent’s den without another glance.

Kabuto did not react.

He did not even register Sasuke’s departure.

Step by step—

Rigid.

Silent.

He walked toward the place where Orochimaru had fallen.

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