Reincarnation in the world of Naruto isn't exactly a blessing. Imagine leaving a peaceful world, free of major conflicts, only to be thrown into a place where child soldiers are sent off to war. Sometimes, the great villages would even rush the graduation process, forcing kids as young as ten onto the front lines.
But… when you're born with a cheat, everything changes. The world becomes a wonderland after that—unless you're Orochimaru and lose your parents just six years into your life.
But looking at all the templates of every Kage…
Hashirama, Minato, Naruto, Tobirama, the Third Raikage, and so on.
For him to reach 100%, there were basically two methods.
The first? Wait for all the years of each character to pass. Take Minato, for example, who died at the age of 23. All he had to do was wait until he turned 23 to become as strong as Minato, inheriting all his knowledge, skills, and even the state he was in at the moment of death—like the Nine-Tails Chakra.
chakra.
There was a second way to accelerate the process—something risky and potentially deadly—but utterly irresistible to someone like him. Waiting patiently was never an appealing option; after all, patience wasn't in Orochimaru's vocabulary. Far better to confront the challenges head-on and reap the rewards quickly.
The sky, tinged in shades of red, resembled fresh blood dripping from a blade, forewarning imminent violence. The forest around him was eerily quiet, a silence almost mocking in nature. Orochimaru felt this silence as a twisted invitation, a subtle smile forming on his thin lips as he awaited the inevitable confrontation.
"Tsk... Hurry up, stop making me wait," he hissed softly, a kunai gliding smoothly between his fingers.
CRACK! A branch snapped behind him, yet he showed no immediate reaction. Orochimaru wasn't the type to scare easily, much less display fear. He turned slowly, cold and penetrating golden eyes analyzing the approaching darkness.
SWOOSH!
A shuriken sliced through the air, but Orochimaru dodged it with an almost bored ease, a cynical smile breaking across his pale face.
"Too predictable," he murmured, almost disappointed.
CLANG! CLANG! TCHINK!
More weapons swiftly appeared, and he deflected them with elegant movements, almost dancing with the danger. Nothing shook him, nothing stole away his mocking smile.
A masked figure leapt from the shadows, launching a fierce attack meant to take Orochimaru down in a single blow. Orochimaru watched him coldly, waiting for the perfect moment.
POW!
The kick landed, hurling him backward against a tree, but still, his expression remained unchanged. In fact, he appeared almost pleased, slowly licking the corner of his injured lip, tasting the metallic tang of his own blood.
"Interesting… finally, someone worthy of my attention," his voice was calm, cold as ice.
"You seem overly confident, kid," the masked man retorted, irritated by the youth's chilling calm.
"Confidence comes with the certainty of victory," Orochimaru replied, his tranquility disturbingly palpable.
The battle resumed, violent and fierce. But rather than desperation, Orochimaru's eyes gleamed with pleasure. Each strike given and received was meticulously analyzed and studied, like a snake watching its prey, waiting patiently for the perfect moment to deliver a fatal blow.
RASENGAN!
Orochimaru formed the spinning blue sphere with clinical precision, his eyes gleaming with scientific curiosity as he launched forward for the definitive strike.
KA-BOOOM!
Both combatants were hurled away by the explosion, momentarily enveloped in a curtain of dust. Orochimaru rose slowly, his eyes fixed precisely where he knew his opponent would emerge.
"You're still alive. Impressive," he spoke coldly, almost disappointed.
"Don't underestimate me, brat!" growled the masked figure, emerging wounded but determined.
"I wouldn't dream of it. You're far too valuable an experiment for that," Orochimaru replied with a sinister smile. "Let's continue."
The fight intensified further, yet Orochimaru's cold-blooded nature was his greatest advantage. Every strike delivered was calculated, devoid of emotion, allowing nothing to interfere with his meticulous analysis.
Because, in this cruel world, survival wasn't about fighting with emotion—it was about coldly mastering every detail, every weakness. And in that, Orochimaru was an absolute master.