Chapter 89: A Gift That Shook the World

The conference formally began, and the central figure of this meeting—Orochimaru—would step out from behind the curtain and make his way, one step at a time, along the red carpet to the stage.

Below, the rulers of the nations stood in ordered ranks. Many among them were not sovereigns at all, yet still counted as formidable figures in their own right—men like the heads of the great conglomerates.

There is always someone who can turn business into a global empire and amass wealth rivaling a nation.

Music swelled; Orochimaru was about to appear. One after another, the rulers rose with tall crystal goblets in hand to welcome him.

“You idiot, get up this instant!”

Among the crowd were two children, seven or eight years old, who had come here with their parents. Lacking rank, they could not sit with their fathers and were placed at the edge.

At that moment, the blond child barked at the dark-haired one.

“Who knows why Father even allowed you to come here? You look stupid, just like your mother!” the blond child sneered, finding his younger brother embarrassing.

The dark-haired child said stubbornly, “Don’t talk about my mother!”

The blond boy grew irritated just by looking at his brother’s face. He slapped the dark-haired child on the head and said, “So what if I do? Go on then—hit me if you can! Listen carefully, this is Orochimaru’s banquet. If you cause trouble for Father, he’ll throw your mother and you both out!

Come on, hit me!”

Having said that, he struck the dark-haired boy’s head twice more. “Hmph. I can hit you and nothing happens, but if you dare hit back, I’ll hit back too. Once we start fighting, we’ll draw Lord Orochimaru’s attention, and Father will definitely be furious. I’m the child of Father and his lawful wife, so my punishment won’t be severe, but he’ll definitely expel your mother and you both. Your mother is simply a…”

“I told you! Don’t talk about my mother!” the dark-haired child roared and lunged at the blond boy.

Thinking his plan had succeeded, the blond child retaliated without hesitation and shouted, “You’re finished! You’re finished! You actually dared to hit back. At most, Father will make me stand as punishment, but you and your mother are done for!”

At that moment, Orochimaru, accompanied by Kabuto Yakushi and the others, had just stepped onto the red carpet to the sound of music.

The scuffle between the two children was not very loud, but there were no ordinary people here. Most were shinobi, and especially Orochimaru, whose strength was beyond measure. Hearing the children fighting, Orochimaru tilted his head slightly.

It was a casual motion, for everyone had already stood, smiling with raised goblets to welcome him, and the fact that only two children were brawling was enough to draw his attention.

Yet because Orochimaru was the center of all eyes, the instant he turned his head toward the side, everyone else followed his gaze. The movement became conspicuous at once, drawing the attention of the entire room.

“Isn’t that the two children of Black Spade Shoju, the biggest conglomerate in the world?”

“How did they start fighting? Those two are usually very obedient. They’re much more mature than other children their age.”

“No idea…”

“…”

Their father, known as the richest man in the world, Black Spade Shoju, possessed a keen eye for observation and razor-sharp judgment, or else he would never have attained his present position.

To him, Orochimaru’s sideways glance was a signal, a piece of intelligence. He was the first, almost simultaneously, to turn and look—and then he saw his two children fighting.

“Idiots!” he groaned inwardly. Causing trouble in a place like this—wasn’t that just dragging the father down? How could he have sired these two fools?

He saw the fairy-like attendants moving through the banquet easily pry the two children apart, and at that moment his blond son was still provoking his dark-haired brother with an arrogant attitude.

Black Spade Shoju wanted to strangle the blond boy.

He hurriedly forced his way through the crowd and reached the two children, calling out to Orochimaru, “I’m terribly sorry, Lord Orochimaru. These two children of mine don’t know any better…”

The others were no fools either. Unlike Black Spade Shoju, who was inwardly cursing, they were already calculating how this incident might be turned into value for themselves.

Orochimaru said coolly, “Let them follow me.”

Black Spade Shoju kept apologizing to Orochimaru, but Orochimaru’s face remained unreadable, leaving him unable to discern anything. Then Orochimaru suddenly told his two children to come along, and Shoju’s heart lurched. He could not tell whether this was good or bad.

It was all because of these two brats.

Black Spade Shoju slapped the blond child twice across the face. The boy, seeming like a docile and obedient child, appeared to admit his fault, but in truth Shoju understood every calculation hidden in that heart. Normally he rather liked this son’s cleverness, but what kind of occasion was this?

Still not satisfied, he struck him twice more with force, until the blond child’s mouth was bent to one side and blood ran freely.

The blond child clutched his face in disbelief. His father had actually hit him? He too was intelligent, and though he harbored endless grievances, he did not voice them. He endured it in silence, but his mentality was close to collapse.

Black Spade Shoju showed no favoritism. He also slapped the dark-haired child four hard times, then motioned for the two of them to follow Orochimaru.

Only then did the blond child finally realize that he may have played this too far…

...

Orochimaru finally reached the stage and turned to face the rulers of the various nations and the other influential figures below.

Kabuto Yakushi and the others, including the two children with blood at the corners of their mouths, stood behind Orochimaru.

With a faint smile, Orochimaru said, “Let us get straight to the point. I dislike complication. The invitation I sent made it very clear: I asked you here to present you with three gifts. First, I intend to give you the method for cultivating the Rinnegan!”

At those words, the crowd below drew in a sharp breath. The method for cultivating the Rinnegan? Was that some kind of joke?

None of them were ordinary people; every one of them stood at the pinnacle of status and power. They were no strangers to the ninja world—especially after the great war of the past two years, they had come to know far too much.

When Orochimaru spoke of the Rinnegan, they knew it was one of the three legendary ocular powers of the ninja world, and the greatest among them.

Someone summoned the courage to ask, “Lord Orochimaru, is that true?”

Orochimaru looked at him. His expression did not change, yet the man’s face suddenly blanched with terror, cold sweat pouring down as his legs trembled and he sank into boundless fear.

“I dislike being questioned or interrupted,” said Orochimaru.

He did not care whether the man would be left with psychological scars or anything else. To endure that single glance—no, merely a fraction of it—was enough. Death would be his outcome; survival, if it came, would be only because he was unimaginably lucky.

Orochimaru continued, “Of course, even gifts require something in return. You will need to purchase them with resources from me.”

The Rinnegan cultivation method he spoke of was the method for creating several kinds of serums. If one followed the prescribed order and took the serums over a long period, evolving little by little, then even an ordinary person might one day possess the Rinnegan.

The most crucial part of the serums would be produced personally by the War Fortress and sold to the outside world, while the remaining parts would be sold directly as formulas, with the fortress taking a commission. In the future, each region would produce and sell them on its own, in order to spread them to the entire world as quickly as possible.

“I imagine you must all doubt me. After all, to make ordinary people of the whole world into shinobi—to grant them bloodline powers as defiant as the Rinnegan—anyone would be skeptical. But I will demonstrate it here shortly.

Now, I shall speak of the second gift.”