Chapter 45: The Question of Survival
The gacha did its thing. The results? A mixed bag of useful, useless, and why does this even exist?
First, a 1995 Mitsubishi Eclipse. A nice car, sure, but without unlimited fuel or plot armor, it's just a fancy way to get stranded.
Then there's a mutant squirrel. Ben 10, huh?
Is this because my personality matches Animo's, so the system thought it was fitting to give me one of his creations?
A Soul Cleansing Pill. Finally, something worthwhile. Strengthening my soul? Yes, please. That's the kind of upgrade that lasts. In fact, I was already planning to dig into some research on soul power after this. Convenient.
Now, The Endurance from Interstellar. A whole spaceship. Could be useful, but definitely not right now.
An Ash Ketchum T-shirt. No hidden abilities. No buffs. No +10 Luck boost. Useless.
A Death Angel from A Quiet Place. Interesting.
Blind but sensitive to sound. I'll have to check it out soon.
A Crab Suit from Avatar. Probably not going to be useful in the short term. Maybe later.
And then there's the Pass Loop from Doraemon. Now this is a game-changer.
Locked doors? Irrelevant.
Security systems? Pointless.
Vaults, safes, high-tech bunkers? Nothing but fancy shoeboxes.
If I want something, I take it.
Of course, only if there are no energy barriers or similar issues.
But the real prize? Richard Grayson's template.
Now, some people would scoff. "Why him? He's just a human."
Idiots.
Grayson isn't just some guy. He's one of the most versatile, efficient, and adaptable fighters out there. No wasted movement, no reliance on superpowers, just raw skill, intelligence, and strategy.
A Shinobi Grayson would be terrifying. Give him chakra, jutsu, and battlefield experience, and he wouldn't just survive. He'd dominate.
Because unlike most Shinobi, he doesn't just fight. He analyzes, adapts, and counterattacks.
Weaknesses? He turns them into openings.
Patterns? He turns them into predictions.
Combat? He doesn't just know how to do it. He understands the mechanics of it.
So in a fight between a Shinobi Grayson and a regular Shinobi of the same level?
Grayson wouldn't just win.
He'd dissect them.
And he's not just a fighter. He's a tactician, an infiltrator, an investigator, a leader.
A jack of all trades, mini-Batman, and one of the most dangerous non-superpowered people in his world.
Assimilating him? Easy choice.
The last item? Prosthetic limb parts from Dororo.
Not useful to me.
I put the Nightwing template into the Assimilation slot since Jacob is already assimilated.
Grayson was already showing 38% progress.
Most of the cards were useless, but not all of them.
And as the saying goes something is better than nothing.
Orochimaru didn't feel angry. There was no need.
He turned away from the data and glanced at the figure standing nearby. "What are you doing here?"
He wasn't in his room but on the terrace, overlooking the city's visible chaos. Fires flickered in the distance, smoke curling into the night sky, the sounds of distant screams and gunfire blending into the background.
He knew Rika wanted to offer him her service, but given her condition, he had decided to let her rest for now. That was why Shizuka remained with her to watch over her.
Saeko, on the other hand, was still in her room.
Probably struggling with her first kill.
Orochimaru didn't care much. If she couldn't overcome something as trivial as that, then she had no place beside him.
So the one came here is yuriko.
Knowing she'd been found, Yuriko stepped forward slow, measured, trying to act composed. Key word: trying.
Her eyes landed on him, and her brain short-circuited.
I was fucked by him.
Not once.
Twice.
And, because life had a sense of humour, her body remembered. Heat crept up her skin, and she had the sudden, traitorous urge to press her thighs together.
Seriously? Now? Now was the time her body chose to have a meltdown?
For a second, she completely forgot why she was even here.
Then, Orochimaru spoke, smooth as ever.
"Are you not going to speak?"
Yuriko blinked. Processing. Right. Words. She needed those.
But damn it, why did he have to sound so amused?
Yuriko forced herself to focus, to shove certain… distracting memories to the back of her mind.
She cleared her throat, straightened her posture—tried to look like she had everything under control.
"About what you spoke during lunch?" she started, aiming for steady confidence.
…Yeah, no. Even to her own ears, it didn't sound as solid as she wanted.
Orochimaru tilted his head slightly, that ever-present smirk playing on his lips.
"Yes?"
Yuriko exhaled slowly, trying to keep her expression neutral.
"You want to control the world from the shadows," she said, watching for his reaction. "What's my role in that?"
She understood what he was doing. That part was clear. What wasn't clear was where she fit into the equation or where her daughter did.
For the past days, the thought had weighed on her. Their situation. Their survival. And no matter how she framed it, the same problem remained.
There was no real reason for him to let them live.
There was no real reason for him to let them live.
She didn't think she was special. Saya wasn't either. Neither were the other three.
She had seen how he worked in the lab. The way he moved, precise and efficient. How he completed book after book, absorbing knowledge at an inhuman pace.
He was a genius.
And the fact that he had let them live was unsettling.
Not because of his power.
But because she had no idea what he was thinking.
Orochimaru studied her for a moment, golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
Then he chuckled, voice low and smooth. "Oh? And what makes you think you have a role?"
Something about the way he said it made her spine stiffen.
"If we don't, then why are we still alive?" she asked, not bothering to hide the sharp edge in her voice.
Orochimaru's smirk widened slightly.
"Now that is an excellent question," he mused. His gaze flickered over her, lingering just long enough to make it clear who was in control. "Tell me, Yuriko, does it matter?"
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.
"Of course it does."
"Does it?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "You're alive. Your daughter is alive. Would knowing why change anything?"
A cold feeling settled in her chest.
Because it wouldn't.
Even if he told her exactly what he planned to do, exactly what role, if any, she had, it wouldn't change the fact that he was the one calling the shots.
And if he had wanted them dead, they would be.
That was the part that got to her. The sheer helplessness of it all.
And Orochimaru? He knew.
His smirk deepened, as if he could see the thoughts racing through her mind.
"Relax, Yuriko," he said, almost mockingly. "If I wanted you gone, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
That wasn't reassuring. At all.