Chapter 164: Successful Research on Spacetime Techniques

Shikamaru had been stationed on the Uchiha main planet, accompanying Orochimaru's clone and utilizing the super communication energy mass to research the "Space-Time Technique."

Orochimaru's clone took charge of the core components, leaving the rest to Shikamaru.

Shikamaru then broke these tasks down into countless minor parts, delegating them to the personnel under his command.

Driven by the deductions of the super communication energy mass and the collaborative research efforts of everyone involved, the Space-Time Technique was finally a success.

Shikamaru promptly contacted Orochimaru's main body.

Orochimaru accepted the video call, and Shikamaru's avatar appeared in his mind.

Shikamaru was visibly excited, his mouth splitting into a wide, delighted grin.

Yet, what truly caught the eye was Shikamaru's hair. Why had his signature pineapple top disappeared? Had he changed his hairstyle?

Changing one's hairstyle was understandable, but why shave it completely bald?

Noticing Orochimaru staring intently at his head, Shikamaru raised a hand to rub his bald pate in deep frustration, a look of resentment crossing his face as he said, "Lord Orochimaru, this is the wager I lost in a bet with that guy Yakushi Kabuto. A bet is a bet, so I accept my defeat with grace!"

Letting out a couple of hearty laughs, Orochimaru remarked, "Not bad at all. This hairstyle suits you quite well."

Shikamaru sighed and patted his bald head, deciding to take it as a compliment from Orochimaru.

Getting down to business, Shikamaru informed Orochimaru that the research on the Space-Time Technique had succeeded.

"It succeeded?" Raising an eyebrow, Orochimaru felt a surge of pleasant surprise—a truly unexpected windfall.

Yet, a peculiar thought struck him: why hadn't his clone contacted him upon success, leaving Shikamaru to reach out instead?

An intrinsic link connected him to his clone; focusing his chakra to sense it, he discovered that the clone had somehow broken down.

As if sensing what Orochimaru was doing, Shikamaru explained, "Lord Orochimaru, when your clone was testing the Space-Time Technique, its chakra and spiritual energy were drained dry, causing it to shut down."

Ah, well. Compared to his main body, that clone possessed only a modest amount of spiritual energy and chakra, meant strictly for primary research.

Little did he know that the "Space-Time Technique" would prove to be such a massive drain on chakra and spirit.

Orochimaru said, "Wait a moment."

Surging the chakra within his body and dividing a portion of his spiritual energy, he channeled it through the connection between himself and his clone, transferring the vital energy directly to the shell.

The shriveled clone lying limply on the bed instantly plumped up and opened its eyes.

It was repaired.

Orochimaru instructed, "Go find my clone and prepare for the next phase of our arrangements."

Shikamaru nodded.

No sooner had he ended the communication with Orochimaru's main body than a message arrived from Orochimaru's clone, summoning him to the laboratory immediately.

Upon reaching the lab, Shikamaru found that all the researchers were already in position, and the instruments were fully operational.

Unlike conventional techniques, this newly developed "Space-Time Technique" was instrument-driven. Casting it required no hand seals; one merely needed to channel chakra into the machinery.

Orochimaru's clone was currently issuing commands. Seeing Shikamaru arrive, he said, "You are well-versed in the startup procedures for this Space-Time Technique. Help me initiate it."

Observing the eager anticipation on the face of Orochimaru's clone, Shikamaru felt a flicker of panic. Were they really going to launch it right now?

Hadn't it just been successfully tested a moment ago?

They had successfully used the "Space-Time Technique" to retrieve grains of sand from a parallel universe; the next steps should have involved live-subject testing to ensure safe transmission and return...

Yet, looking at Orochimaru's clone, it was painfully obvious that he intended to use himself as the direct test subject!

Noticing Shikamaru frozen in place, Orochimaru smiled and said, "Don't worry about me. Since we were able to retrieve sand grains from a parallel universe, I can safely transport myself to that universe and return unharmed. When it comes to immortality, I am far tougher than a grain of sand."

Indeed, by any metric, Orochimaru's clone vastly outperformed a grain of sand.

That logic seemed sound enough, so Shikamaru gave his consent.

Stepping forward and donning a white lab coat, he began tapping rapidly across the control console.

The console was an exceptionally sophisticated apparatus, and under Shikamaru's expert operation, it sprang to life.

Orochimaru's clone took a seat in a specialized chair situated behind the device. Numerous cables of various colors extended from beneath the seat, connecting on the other end to the main machine.

Through this chair, Orochimaru could channel his chakra and spiritual energy directly into the apparatus, which in turn would transport the occupant to a parallel universe.

Whenever Orochimaru wished to return from the parallel universe, he simply needed to activate the remote control he brought along while the local machinery remained operational, and he would be pulled back.

The instrument roared to life, and Orochimaru's clone poured chakra and spiritual energy into it without reservation.

What he hadn't told Shikamaru was that this particular clone possessed half the full strength of his main body.

That alone was a terrifying magnitude of power!

*Boom!*

Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed from the chair. The apparatus took effect, and with a blinding flash of light, Orochimaru's clone vanished from the seat.

Shikamaru and the other researchers stared at the empty space, murmuring in unison, "Did it succeed?"

...

In a parallel universe, within a dimly lit stellar sector, numerous expressionless figures patrolled the void.

These individuals hailed from diverse origins—some belonged to the Snake-Head Clan, one of the Ten Great Races, while others came from obscure, nameless clans.

Logic dictated they should never have appeared together, yet not only were they gathered, but they were also patrolling the star system in seamless coordination.

One glaring trait united them all: absolute expressionlessness. They functioned precisely like machines.

At that moment, one of the expressionless figures appeared to detect something. Flying toward a nearby planet, it launched a direct assault, shattering the celestial body to pieces.

From amid the planetary debris, a solitary figure panicked and scrambled into flight.

Nearby, the other expressionless figures swarmed like a cloud of locusts, instantly striking the figure down.

Faintly, as the figure drew its last breath, a cry could be heard: "Sage of Six Paths, we are irreconcilable enemies..."

Once the figure perished, the others dispersed instantly, resuming their mechanical patrols.

Moments later, the slain figure miraculously reconstituted itself, its expression wiped clean, and quietly rejoined the patrolling armada.

...

Amidst the asteroid belt of this stellar sector, a handful of humans remained hidden, their faces caked in grime and looking utterly wretched.

"We have no choice but to abandon this stronghold. If we wait any longer, we'll be discovered, and all of us will die. Running away now is our only chance!"

The speaker was a young man with short yellow hair. His gaze sharp and resolute, he looked at his companions and declared, "I will charge out first to draw the attention of those puppets. The rest of you must seize the opportunity to escape."

He was trading his own life to secure a glimmer of survival for his comrades.

His teammates varied in appearance, each possessing non-human traits belonging to various alien races, entirely different from the yellow-haired youth.

Yet, united in this plight, they shared a common hatred for their enemy, and the youth's willingness to sacrifice himself for his team was a display of noble righteousness.

Such camaraderie was exceedingly rare.

"No!"

A man with an oversized, fist-shaped, reddish nose stepped forward and shouted, "You'll die!"

With so many puppets waiting outside, whoever drew their attention was bound to perish!

The short yellow-haired youth offered a cool, rhetorical question: "Then you go?"

The big-nosed man choked instantly, unable to utter another word. Whoever went would die, and he certainly didn't want to die.

Or rather, he didn't want *anyone* to die. Was there truly no other way?

Seeing the big-nosed man fall silent, the youth continued, "Since no one has any objections, I'll head ou—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a sudden anomaly occurred. In the starry expanse not far from their hiding spot, a thunderous explosion erupted out of nowhere, followed by the materialization of a human figure.

The figure had clearly arrived via spatial teleportation, and for reasons unknown, the transit generated a massive shockwave that instantly drew the attention of the surrounding patrols.

*That figure is finished,* the yellow-haired youth and his companions concluded unanimously as they peeked from behind the asteroids, watching the swarming legions converge on the newcomer from all directions.