Is this bowl something you can leap into just because you want to?

“It seems you've misunderstood something.”
Orochimaru curled his lips into a mocking smile. “Setting aside the dangers, the physical enhancement surgery I perform can greatly increase a ninja’s abilities. Do you really think it’s something I’d just do for you because you ask?”
Uchiha Jinsuke’s face froze, awakening from his self-sacrificing reverie. His surge of righteous passion cooled rapidly.
But before he could speak, Orochimaru continued, “Not counting my own fee, the surgery alone costs thirty-five million ryo.”
Jinsuke’s eyes widened in shock.
Thirty-five... million ryo? How could it possibly be so much?
An S-rank mission only pays one or two million ryo at most. In this war against the Cloud, barely a handful of shinobi would receive S-rank mission rewards; most mid- and upper-ranked ninja would only earn A- or B-rank pay.
Thirty-five million— that was nearly enough to hire the entire Police Force.
Fugaku frowned as well. He could accept paying that much for a clan member with the Mangekyo Sharingan, but to spend such a sum on a single experiment was simply too extravagant.
The atmosphere in the medical room grew heavy, everyone stunned by the astronomical price— except for the medical-nin.
They understood. They knew Orochimaru must have included the costs of some rare equipment in his calculation.
But though they understood, they wisely chose to remain silent.
On the other side, Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado exchanged glances and let out a breath of relief in unison.
Though the process had been unpleasant, the result was acceptable. No special privilege was granted to the Uchiha hero, yet they also did not ignore his contribution. Every necessary formality had been observed— enough to placate the Uchiha.
“Now you understand, don’t you?”
Orochimaru shot Jinsuke a sidelong glance. “If it weren’t for Shisui’s considerable merit this time, and the council elders’ order that I not keep my secrets, do you think I would perform surgery for free?”
Shisui could only offer a wry smile, at a loss for words.
Koharu’s expression darkened; she knew Orochimaru was deliberately provoking her again, so she simply turned away, refusing to look at his hateful face.
On the sickbed, Jinsuke’s face alternated between green and white. He had been prepared to sacrifice himself for Shisui’s sake, but Orochimaru’s few words had crushed his spirit.
Money, favors... It was all painfully realistic. Wasn’t this the time for something grander, something more noble?
Like the so-called “Will of Fire”?
Orochimaru licked his lips, his smile laced with irony.

He did, after all, need a compliant Uchiha elite jonin to advance his research into the First Hokage’s cells.
But as he’d said, the enhancement surgery was still extremely risky— survival was far from guaranteed.
If something went wrong, what then?
If a village ninja died as a result of human experimentation, even for Orochimaru, the consequences would be dire.
Setting aside everything else, no one would ever willingly volunteer as a test subject again.
For now, at least, Orochimaru needed to preserve his reputation; he couldn’t afford to ruin it in the village.
So, the matter of operating on the Uchiha jonin needed to be reframed.
There’s nothing wrong with the surgery itself; its exorbitant cost is a given.
If something goes wrong, it’s your own fault — after all, I’m performing this surgery for free. What more could you possibly want?
You were the one begging for it!
Tsk, tsk... How despicable.
Orochimaru’s lips curled into a smirk; after being tricked by the Lamp Spirit for so long, he had learned a thing or two.
“I can come up with thirty-five million ryo,”
Jinsuke gritted his teeth and forced out the words.
He was still young; he couldn’t bear to let his wish be thwarted by money. It was too bitter a pill to swallow.
Of course, Jinsuke wasn’t foolish enough to think he could save that much himself. He turned his gaze to the clan leader.
For the sake of Shisui’s Mangekyo Sharingan, he believed the leader would not let him shoulder the burden alone.
Fugaku, seeing Jinsuke’s hopeful eyes, gave a barely perceptible nod.
He was indeed reluctant to lose the Mangekyo, and if the surgery cost so much, its results must be worthwhile.
Jinsuke was already an elite jonin; if he advanced further, even without awakening the Mangekyo, he would become a kage-level powerhouse.
All in all, it was a worthwhile gamble.
Before Orochimaru could speak, Koharu interjected, “I do not approve of this.”

She turned to Orochimaru, face stern and voice resolute. “The risk is too great—this is not a simple surgery. If Jinsuke were to die on the operating table, do you understand the consequences, Orochimaru?”
She seemed to think this wasn’t enough, and added, “Orochimaru, Hiruzen would never approve this operation either.”
At her words, Orochimaru’s expression darkened, his gaze chilling the air around him.
Koharu’s breath hitched, but she furrowed her brow and refused to look away, her eyes full of warning.
It was no longer just about preventing Shisui’s recovery; it was also about Orochimaru himself.
She knew, as did most of the Konoha leadership, that Orochimaru’s obsession with immortality meant he was willing to push his moral boundaries ever lower.
Using the bodies of enemy ninja for experiments could be overlooked to a degree—but once he started experimenting on his own village’s ninjas, who knew where it would end?
Worse still, if something like “surgery fails, Jinsuke dies” were to occur, rumors and whispers would inevitably spread.
Having witnessed the tragedy of Sakumo Hatake, Koharu was convinced of this.
Unlike Sakumo, Orochimaru would not tolerate such slander; the end result would almost certainly be defection.
After seeing Orochimaru’s formidable power in this war, Koharu could not let such a thing come to pass.
The two stared each other down for a moment, until Shisui suddenly spoke, his tone earnest:
“My lords, please don’t trouble yourselves over me.”
He turned his head in the direction of Jinsuke’s voice. “Jinsuke, Lord Orochimaru said it himself—perhaps in two or three years, when the technique is more refined, I could undergo the surgery. I can’t let you risk your life for the sake of these few years.”
“But—” Jinsuke tried to protest, but Shisui cut him off. Though his eyes were closed, Jinsuke could feel the plea in his gaze. “Please, don’t make this harder for me.”
Jinsuke opened his mouth, then dropped his head in defeat.
Now that the person at the heart of the matter had spoken, Orochimaru had no grounds to insist. He shot Koharu a cold look, snorted, and strode out of the medical room.
Fugaku handed Shisui over to the medical-nin, then hurried after Orochimaru.
“Lord Orochimaru, is there truly no hope at all for Shisui’s eyes?”