"You can go."
No hesitation, no extra words.
The spy gave a short nod before vanishing into the mist, taking the bodies with him. Orochimaru didn't bother watching. His work here was done.
Pulling his mask back over his face, he turned and slipped into the forest. He wasn't heading straight back to Konoha. That wasn't how he operated.
By the time he reached the city, night had fallen, but that didn't change much. The streets were still alive merchants yelling, gamblers cursing, drunks stumbling between buildings. But Orochimaru wasn't here for any of them.
He saw what was beneath the surface.
Shinobi.
Some kept their heads down, trying to pass as civilians. Others didn't bother hiding at all. Mercenaries, spies, rogue ninja each one here for their own reasons.
Orochimaru ignored them.
He moved through the market without sparing the goods a glance.
He had other priorities.
After weaving through a few narrow alleyways, he stopped in front of a nondescript building. Nothing about it stood out aged wooden walls, a half-faded sign, an entrance that looked like any other. But Orochimaru knew better.
This was where the real information flowed.
As he stepped toward the door, a figure shifted in front of him.
Two knocks.
The door cracked open, revealing a man with a deep scar down his cheek and a katana resting against his shoulder. His eyes flicked over Orochimaru, sizing him up in a single glance.
"What do you need?"
"Information."
Simple, direct.
Earlier, his clones had scouted the city, tracing the flow of whispers, following the movements of those who dealt in secrets. It all led here.
And now, he was going to see if this place was worth his time.
The man let him inside, crossing two rooms, where samurai are hidden in dark.
Hiring shinobi wasn't an option for everyone. The cost, the risk, the contracts it was a complicated game. And even if you had the coin, not everyone trusted ninja.
That's where the samurai came in.
They didn't rely on jutsu. No illusions, no chakra tricks just pure skill and discipline. For some, that was the better choice.
Orochimaru understood the appeal. But he wasn't looking for a mercenary. He was after something far more valuable.
Information.
After a short wait, he was finally led deeper into the building. The corridors were narrow, dimly lit. Soundproofed. A place where voices wouldn't carry.
Eventually, they reached a room small, plain, built for business. A simple wooden table stood at the center with two chairs placed on opposite sides.
Orochimaru took his seat. He didn't fidget, didn't glance around. Just folded his hands on the table and waited.
Seconds later, the door opened again.
A man stepped inside.
Long blue hair, sharp green eyes. His robes were clean, expensive, but not flashy. A businessman, not a warrior. Behind him, a silent guard stood at attention, hand resting on his weapon, eyes sharp. The message was clear any sudden movement, and things would turn violent fast.
Orochimaru only smiled.
The broker sat down, mirroring his relaxed posture. "What information are you looking for?" His tone was smooth, practiced. A man used to negotiations.
Orochimaru didn't bother with pleasantries.
"I've heard rumors of a clan," he began. "One with... peculiar transformations. Mutated bodies, heightened aggression."
The broker didn't react. Not at first.
"There are many who fit that description," he said casually. "Be more specific."
Orochimaru's fingers tapped lazily against the wooden table, his tone light, almost casual.
"The ones in their transformed state physically superior to most shinobi. Strong. Resilient. Almost… inhuman."
He paused, then murmured, just barely above a whisper—
"Natural energy."
The words hung in the air, subtle yet heavy.
The broker remained still, his expression carefully neutral, but Orochimaru didn't miss the flicker in his eyes. Recognition.
So, he knew something.
Of course, Orochimaru already had a strong guess. This was Jūgo's clan the ones with the rare, innate ability to absorb natural energy. The foundation of his original life's research. The key to the Cursed Seal.
Though he had moved beyond certain experiments, knowledge was never wasted. Some things were simply too useful to ignore.
He leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes gleaming with interest.
"Tell me what you know."