Chapter 27: The Safety of the Mansion
Veromouth was chilling on the bed, buck naked, showing off her tits with her nipples all hard, and her pussy, all neat and trimmed, like she was saying "come and get it." Ain't the first time she's been like this, but this time was different. Something was reminding her of some old shit.
Around her, there were all these tools, ya know? Scalpels, scissors, knives—like the whole op room was set up.
Orochimaru was standing by the table, checking out the blood and reading his experiment reports.
Once he got his hands on samples from Veromouth and Haibara, he didn't waste no time testing them. He wanted to know just how bad the drug had messed with them.
Truth is, Orochimaru was all about that drug, but with all the chaos and the time it'd take to get to another city, he didn't have the patience. So, he did what he thought was best and took those specimens from his table.
With his own skills and genus genius-level brain, Orochimaru was on another level. He figured if he got those samples and tested them, he could reverse-engineer and replicate the drug, maybe even upgrade it. Shit, he was already working on something similar, and Genus too had stuff to keep his body in check, so it wasn't nothing new. What Orochimaru was really curious about was how different it was from the serum he is making and if he could use it or find other ways to apply it.
After getting samples from both the ladies, Orochimaru saw that even though the effects were different, they were definitely usin' the same stuff at the core. It was just that Veromouth stayed the same age while Haibara de-aged.
Narrowing his eyes, he turned while picking up a syringe, silently moving toward the woman lying on the bed. She remained relaxed, but a vigilant glint in her eyes never vanished, despite her lack of struggle.
What could she do? The simple truth was nothing. She couldn't hope to stand against Orochimaru. She had witnessed his movements, his indifference toward her. She understood that he hadn't taken her to extract information about the organization; he had already sensed that something about her was different.
If it weren't for the fact that she knew he was from another world and had only recently arrived, she might have believed he had been watching her for a long time. Otherwise, how had he discovered her secret?
But this realization also filled her with fear.
Was this a ninja?
That sharp perception… the unshakable calm… the way he knew something was off even without clear proof—
Yes, this was what a real ninja looked like.
Orochimaru didn't spare her another glance. He simply turned away, syringe in hand, focused entirely on the blood sample.
"You can leave for now".
Veromouth stood slowly, exhaling through her nose. Her muscles ached slightly—whether from tension or discomfort, she couldn't tell. She slid her black panties back on, clasped her bra, then silently picked up her clothes and exited the room, not daring to look back.
Not daring to think too deeply.
Leaving the room, yes.
Leaving the mansion? No.
First, she couldn't predict what Orochimaru might do if she tried to leave. Second, outside was worse—much worse.
The city was a decaying hellscape now. The kind of nightmare that usually ends when the dreamer wakes up. Only this was no dream. No lights. No law. Just the dead… and the hungry. The EMP burst that knocked out all electronics had turned the modern city into a pre-apocalyptic prison.
Moreover, she had noticed that as long as she followed Orochimaru's instructions, it didn't matter what she did the rest of the time.
All things considered, it was still safer inside the mansion than out in the world. Yes, with her skills, she could survive on her own, but the question remained: how long could she guarantee that the transformation of zombies wouldn't happen through contact with the blood of corpses that filled the entire city, or through other objects? So, all in all, it was still safer here, even if she had to live with a monster.
A calm, intelligent, terrifying monster who hadn't even needed to threaten her. He just existed—and that was enough.
In fact, to increase her chances of survival, she had even resorted to the art of seduction. With years of experience, there were very few who could resist her charms if given the chance to spend a night with her. She wasn't the hottest, but she was more than enough to make anyone's heart race.
Lust, curiosity, weakness. She had played that game with politicians, warlords, even fellow operatives.
A bit of skin. A soft laugh. A shared drink. They always cracked eventually.
Unfortunately for her, Orochimaru had spent his life surrounded by kunoichi in tight shinobi suits, seeing them in the most alluring postures, and personally spending time with the legendary 106. So, her attempts at seduction would likely be futile.
Even now, she wasn't sure whether she felt more humiliated by his indifference or relieved. Orochimaru didn't leer, didn't gawk, didn't even seem to register the smooth curve of her thighs or the sway of her hips as she left the room.
Back in the hallway, she leaned against the cold wall for a moment, adjusting her shirt absently while staring at nothing. The lights flickered slightly from the emergency generator Orochimaru had salvaged from who knows where.
Her eyes landed on Saeko outside the manor, who was practicing with one of Orochimaru's shadow clones.
Since he was also interested in Saeko, there was no need to ignore her request. He had left a shadow clone to guide her in combat—teaching her to fight and kill, even without chakra enhancements. He focused on essential skills: footwork, posture, angles—everything.
The term "jack of all trades, master of none" didn't apply to Orochimaru. Except for genjutsu, he excelled at everything, surpassing others by a wide margin. Even in genjutsu, he was skilled enough to resist the effects of a three-tomoe Sharingan. He was not the Orochimaru who had split his soul, whose spirit was weak enough to be defeated by a brat from the Uchiha clan.
He fought in two Shinobi Wars and had countless Uchiha under his command, giving him ample time to observe their abilities. As a student of the Hokage, he knew more methods to counter Uchiha techniques than others.
Seeing the slash coming from Saeko, the clone moved slightly to dodge the attack and kicked her in the stomach, making her gag.
She immediately fell to the ground, the strength of the kick too much for her, and took deep breaths to recover.
"That's enough for today," the clone said before bursting into smoke.
A voice came from behind her. "You okay?"
Saeko turned slightly to see Shiho. She still found it difficult to believe that this eight-year-old-looking girl was actually a year older than her.
"Yeah, just need a few minutes," Saeko said as she lay down on the grass to rest.
Seeing her like that, Shiho also lay down beside her, staring up at the blue sky.
Out of the three of them, it wouldn't be wrong to say that Shiho felt the most embarrassed around Orochimaru. After all, Saeko had also given her blood to him, but she hadn't needed to be naked for hours like the others. Vermouth had plenty of experience in that sort of situation, but Shiho—who had just lost her sister, barely survived being killed, and now faced the apocalypse—had to lie naked in front of an unknown man for hours... and in the body of a child, no less.
But like Veromouth, she too grasped that resistance was futile. She recalled how effortlessly Orochimaru had incinerated the zombies and moved with astonishing swiftness.
"He's incredibly powerful," she whispered to herself.
Saeko nodded in agreement, "Indeed, he is."
As she spoke, an irresistible sensation stirred in Saeko's chest. She pondered whether to inquire about this chakra and if she could acquire some, but the fear of repercussions held her back.
Among the three, she was the one Orochimaru treated with the most leniency, a fact she had also observed.
He didn't regard her with contempt or pass judgment.
In a bid to test her luck, she had confided in both Shiho and Veromouth. While Shiho swiftly concealed her revulsion, Saeko caught a glimpse of it. Veromouth mentioned encountering individuals like Saeko who had transformed into psychopaths, relishing the act of killing. Although Veromouth didn't spell it out, her implication was clear: even she, a killer, found Saeko disturbing.
So the dynamic between them wasn't one of partners facing challenges together. In fact, none of the three saw each other as true partners. Shiho disliked Saeko's hidden personality, while Veromouth belonged to an organization that Shiho hated and was once a member of. Veromouth, with her extensive experience, saw the other two as mere "brats," using them when it suited her.
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