Had it been that long since Orochimaru last exchanged something from the system's store? The last time was years ago, when he'd given the Uchiha clan wireless communication devices. Pushing aside the nostalgia, he refocused on finding a tool that could be of practical use. The system's store was filled with auxiliary gadgets that could be exchanged for use but not reproduced on a mass scale. For any kind of large-scale production, significant research into basic daily technologies was necessary.
But during wartime, Orochimaru had little time for such extensive studies.
Surveillance cameras were simple, low-tier technology that required minimal tech points, even less than the raw materials for genetic repair fluid. The cost was trivial, 1–3 points per camera, and each was more advanced than anything Konoha could deploy for surveillance.
As for installation? For Orochimaru, it was child's play.
All he needed to do was find a way around Konoha's existing surveillance network, wait for a moment when Kushina wasn't home, and slip in. ANBU's watch over the Jinchuriki wasn't relentless. They had their blind spots.
A week later, inside a secure guest room in Orochimaru's residence, six screens glowed with different camera feeds. He watched them with satisfaction. Six views in total: one in the bedroom, one in the living room, one in the hallway, and three covering the front and back streets leading to the property.
The coverage was comprehensive. Orochimaru's goal was clear—observe Kushina's habits, waiting for the right moment to make his move. Her house, though modestly sized, was in a less favorable part of Konoha, much like Danzo's residence near the village's edge.
Orochimaru kept watch on Kushina with the goal of the Nine-Tails in mind. Konoha's surveillance, however, was meant to safeguard their Jinchuriki. But now, they were not only monitoring her, they had their eyes on Orochimaru too. It was an unspoken reality.
The ANBU tasked with monitoring Danzo's movements had been instructed to keep tabs on Orochimaru's activities, though their efforts were subtle. With Orochimaru's high vigilance, tailing him directly was impossible. He knew Hiruzen was wary, but it didn't matter. Being involved with Danzo had pulled him into Konoha's political undercurrent. There was no going back.
So, they pretended not to see. They played the game. The illusion of camaraderie as master and student remained intact, even if their loyalties didn't. Open conflict between them would bring chaos, a risk Konoha couldn't afford.
And so, days turned into weeks.
By May of the 34th year since Konoha's founding, Orochimaru was preparing for his eventual deployment to the front lines, where he would relieve other forces. But before that, he had unfinished business outside the village.
Thirty kilometers from Konoha, in a forest clearing, a skirmish unfolded. Five rogue ninjas from a minor nation stood in a loose circle, clutching their weapons tightly. They eyed the long-haired Konoha Jounin with visible dread. Bodies of their fallen comrades lay around them.
Despite being outnumbered, the man in the Jounin vest—Orochimaru—seemed unfazed. His expression was calm, a thin smile gracing his lips. A black serpent coiled around his arm, baring its fangs as if mocking the panicked men.
"A Konoha Jounin... with snakes... Are you... Orochimaru of the Sannin?" one muttered, his voice shaking.
"Oh?" Orochimaru's smile widened, his golden eyes gleaming. "I'm flattered that even wandering rogues know my name."
"T-That's him?"
"There's no mistake! We're up against Orochimaru!"
"No way! Why is he here? Isn't there a war going on?"
"It has to be a lie!"
The mere mention of Orochimaru's name filled them with dread. His reputation as one of the legendary Sannin had spread across the lands, even reaching rogue groups like theirs. But why now? Why would someone of his caliber be here, facing them instead of being at the front lines?
The confusion gnawed at them. They had fled to the Land of Fire to exploit the war's chaos, stealing and killing without much fear. But now, they stood before a legend.
"Master, you're truly impressive!" hissed the black snake coiled around his arm. "They're paralyzed just hearing your name."
"Indeed." Orochimaru chuckled, the sound dark and sinister. "Yamata, keep them alive."
"Understood," replied the snake before vanishing into thin air.
The sudden disappearance sent a ripple of panic through the rogues.
"He's gone?"
"Where did he—"
"It's true! The stories are true! This is bad, we need to—"
"Run!"
"Curse it! Why did we have to meet him?"
They tried to flee, darting in opposite directions. But it was already too late. Orochimaru moved swiftly, appearing behind one man, his crimson Sharingan catching the rogue's eye.
"Sharingan...!"
Before the ninja could react, Orochimaru struck him at the base of the neck, knocking him unconscious. He didn't hesitate, turning to the next target.
"Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!" he called.
Explosions and the sudden flurry of smoke bombs followed as the rogues desperately tried to cover their escape. Smoke filled the clearing, obscuring their view. But just when they thought they could slip away, figures appeared in the haze, blocking their path.
Clones of Orochimaru.
"You didn't think I'd come unprepared, did you?" Orochimaru's voice echoed through the smoke. His clones surrounded them, their eyes glowing red.
***
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