( Kazeo's POV )

  As soon as I stepped out of the Hokage's office, I let out a shaky breath—one I hadn't even realized I was holding. My heart was still pounding, my palms slightly damp with sweat.

  Damn... that was intense.

  Talking to the Hokage always feels like walking on a tightrope. It's not just his title that makes him intimidating—it's his presehat unshakable calm, those sharp, knowing eyes... It's as if he peel back every yer of my mind and see what's truly underh.

  I wiped my hands on my pants and exhaled again.

  'Get it together, Kazeo.'

  I was just a normal 20-year-old guy in my past life—I never had to deal with higher-ups or political figures. And the Hokage? He carries a kind of pressure that's hard to describe. Somewhere deep ihere's always this lingerihat if he wao, he could end me in a sed.

  Now that I've started writing, I know I'll have to talk to Hokage and even more powerful people iure. I o work on trolling my emotions and developing a poker face. Otherwise, I'll always be an open book, and that's dangerous.

  That being said, the meeting actually weer than expected. The Hokage approved my novel publishing idea. Now, I just have to write and bring Demon Syer into this world.

  Anood thing was that he agreed to take a 30% cut from my earnings. At first, I was thinking of keeping all the money for myself, but in the long run, this is like an insurance policy. If my future novels start making a lot of money and the Hokage begins w, "Why does a child need so much wealth?"—this deal will serve as proof that I've always been willing to tribute to the vilge. It also helps reinforce the Will of Fire image I o maintain.

  I know for a fact that the Hokage has been instilling the Will of Fire in children from a young age, subtly maniputing them into being loyal shinobi. If I hadn't known about that, I probably wouldn't have thought of this move.

  After living alone for the past month, ohing has bee painfully clear—there's no way to survive on just 2000 ryo a month. Ba my past life, whenever I needed money, my parents provided it. Even in the orphanage, I never had to worry about expenses. But now that I'm on my own, I've realized something—I suck at managing money! One moment, I have it, and the , it's all gone.

  That's why I decided to write stories from my previous life. This could brih prestige and money.

  And if I think about it, Demon Syer is the perfect story for this world.

  Samurai and swordsmen already exist here.

  The protagonist is an orphan, just like me and other orphans.

  Breathing teiques are different from jutsu but still believable.

  The MC's righteousness and innoce will attract both civilians and shinobi sihey strongly believe in the Will of Fire.

  With a little push from the Hokage, this could bee a bestseller within a month—at least in Konoha and the Land of Fire. Now, I just o decide how many volumes I should publish after a month.

  I was so deep in thought that I didn't even realize I had reached home. I opehe door, stepping inside, but my mind was already pnning the step.

  Time t Demoo life.

  ----------

  ( Hiruzen's POV )

  Hiruzen absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the desk, staring at the freshly signed dot in front of him.

  This boy…

  When Kazeo first walked into my office today, I had expected the usual—a request for training, jutsu, maybe a mission opportunity. After all, he trains hard every single day.

  But instead, he asked me for permission to publish a novel.

  I won't lie—I was surprised.

  And then, he offered to give 30% of his earnings to the vilge.

  That was when I decided to test him.

  I told him the vilge didn't need his money—which was true. Konoha has more than enough resources, and a child's book profits wouldn't make much of a difference. I wao see his rea.

  Would he back down? Would he hesitate?

  But no. He insisted.

  And what caught my attention the most wasn't just the words he spoke—but the siy in his eyes.

  He wasn't scheming. He wasn't trying to manipute me.

  At least, not in a way that felt calcuted.

  That's when I realized—this boy truly believes in the Will of Fire.

  He may be mature beyond his years, but deep down, he is still just a child trying to find his p this vilge.

  And that makes him… iing.

  If his story succeeds, it means he's either highly imaginative or a natural-born storyteller. If it fails, then he'll simply learn a valuable lesson about the world.

  Either way, I suppose we'll find out soon.

  I picked up my tea, taking a slow sip.

  One month… Let's see what kind of story this boy will create.

  ------

  Oer -

  The dim glow of the underground chamber cast long, stretg shadows across the cold stone walls. The st of blood g to the air, thid metallic, mixing with the acrid burn of aic. Orochimaru stood at the ter of it all—his personal chamber of evolution—where flesh and mortality were mere ingredients in his pursuit of eternity.

  The room was lined with limp bodies, their expressions frozen in the agony of unfinished screams. Their deaths were insignifit in the grand scheme of things. A necessary cost.

  A sigh.

  "You've truly disappointed me, Orochimaru."

  That voice. That weary, familiar voice.

  Orochimaru turned, his golden eyes meeting the aged gaze of the man who had once been his idol.

  Hiruzen Sarutobi stood at the entrance, his posture firm but his expression… paihe flickering torchlight revealed the deep lines carved into his face, the weight of years pressing on his shoulders like an unseen force. His hands did not tremble, though Orochimaru wondered if it was discipline or sheer will keeping them steady.

  For a moment, just a moment, the air between them was heavy with something unspoken.

  Orochimaru smiled. It was not an expression of joy, nor even of cruelty—it was something far colder. "Disappointed?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "You always knew what I was, Sensei. You just refused to see it."

  Hiruzen exhaled, slow and measured. "I saw a boy with unmatched brilliance. A boy with the potential to lead Konoha into a new era." His gaze flickered to the bodies strewn across the room, and the disappoi deepened into something heavier. "Not… this."

  Orochimaru chuckled softly. "A, I did not ge. I only embraced what you were too afraid to aowledge." He gestured toward the lifeless bodies, their existence reduced to nothing more than failed experiments. "Evolution requires sacrifice. You trained me to be a shinobi, to do whatever is necessary for the mission. This is no different."

  Hiruzen's grip tightened around his staff. "No, Orochimaru. This is different. You have strayed too far."

  Orochimaru's smile faded. He could hear the sorrow in Hiruzen's voice, the hesitation in his stance. And it infuriated him.

  "You knew, didn't you?" Orochimaru stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. "You knew what I was doing, yet you looked the other way for so long. Why now, Sensei? Why did you wait until I had nothio lose?"

  Hiruzen flinched—barely, but it was enough.

  Orochimaru ughed, a hollow sound that echoed against the chamber walls. "Ah… I see. You always hoped I would ge." His golden eyes burned with something sharp, something venomous. "How na?ve."

  The old man took a deep breath. His stance shifted ever so slightly—ready, prepared. The look in his eyes was no lohat of a teacher but of a Hokage. "You leave me no choice."

  Orochimaru's expression darkened. "Do you truly think you stop me?"

  Hiruzen didn't answer. Instead, he moved.

  A flurry of hand signs, a burst of chakra—shuriken raioward Orochimaru, slig through the air with deadly precision.

  But Orochimaru was already gone, his body twisting, t, slithering through the gaps like a phantom. He reappeared behind his former master, his voice a breath against the old man's ear.

  "You hesitated, Sensei."

  A kunai shot forward—fast, precise—but Hiruzen blocked it at the st sed, his staff intercepting the attack with a dull g. The force sent a jolt up his arms, but Orochimaru merely grinned, pressing in closer.

  "Kill me." His voice was a whisper, taunting. "That's what a true Hokage would do, wouldn't they?"

  The staff wavered—an instant, a fra of hesitation.

  Orochimaru saw it. And he knew.

  His smile widened.

  "You 't do it."

  A sharp hiss. His body melted away, sinking into the shadows, slithering through the cracks of the room as though he had never been there at all.

  Hiruzen turned, but Orochimaru was already at the exit, his silhouette barely visible against the torchlight.

  His voice was the st thing to linger.

  "Farewell, Sensei."

  And then he was gone.

  The chamber fell into silence, leaving only the weight of what had transpired behind.

  Hiruzen stood amidst the age, his grip on his staff tight, his heart heavy with a sorrow too deep to name.

  His greatest failure had just slipped through his fingers.

  -------

  The M After Orochimaru's Defe – Kazeo & His Cssmates

  The Academy was unusually tehat m. The usual childish energy had been repced by hushed whispers, goward the door, and nervous shifting is. Something big had happe night—something none of them fully uood.

  Kazeo sat at his desk, resting on his hand as he listened in silence. He already knew, of course. Orochimaru's defe wasn't just a loss—it was a massacre.

  Shiro, the Nara, sighed dramatically. "So… the Hokage really couldn't stop him?"

  Daiki, the Hyūga, nodded, his pale eyes wider than usual. "I heard my ualking about it. The ANBU squad that went after him… almost all of them died."

  Hotaru, the Inuzuka, growled under her breath. "That's so unfair! The Hokage is supposed to be the stro!"

  Ren, the Senju, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. "The Hokage is strong," he said firmly. "But Orochimaru wasn't just powerful. He knew how to fight him. He had it pnned."

  That made everyone pause. Pnned. It wasn't just a fight—it was an escape that had bee in motion long before st night.

  Then, Sora, the Uchiha, scoffed. "If the Uchiha had bee instead of ANBU, we could've stopped him."

  Ryou, the Aburame, adjusted his gsses. "That's a bold cim. Orochimaru wasn't just sue ninja."

  Sora's dark eyes fshed. "her are the Uchiha."

  Hotaru crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? Then why didn't the Hokage call your ?"

  Sora went silent. His jaw ched, and he looked away.

  Kazeo finally spoke, voieutral but thoughtful. "…Maybe he didn't have time."

  Everyouro him.

  Kazeed. "Orochimaru pnned his escape well. Maybe the Hokage sent whoever was closest."

  The answer wasn't pletely satisfying, but it made sehe versation might have ehere, but then Shiro spoke again, voice quieter.

  "…Did you guys hear about the experiments?"

  The already heavy atmosphere darkened.

  Daiki's face paled. "You mean… the rumors about missing people?"

  Ryou nodded. "It's not just rumors. My dad said the Hokage's office found bodies in his hideouts. And not just any bodies—Konoha shinobi."

  Hotaru's eyes widened in horror. "He was experimenting on our own people?"

  Shiro swallowed. "That's what they're saying."

  Ren's hands ched into fists. "That's… disgusting. Why would he do that?"

  No one had an answer.

  Except Kazeo.

  Because he never saw them as people. Just tools , Just data.

  But he didn't say that.

  Instead, he let out a slow breath. "Maybe he thought people were just… another way to get stronger."

  The css fell into an uneasy silence.

  Finally, Shiro sighed. "Man… this sucks. If Orochimaru left, who else might leave?"

  Ren's expression hardened. "Whoever it is… they won't get away so easily ime."

  Kazeo tilted his head slightly, watg the determined look in the Senju's eyes.

  Heh… if only you knew.

  But he didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned back, letting the versation drift away.

  This was a reminder for him that time is slipping.

  ---------

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