Mortal Flesh

"Orochimaru-sama, the hospital has been flooded with patients lately. Let's talk after I'm done with my work."

Shimizu met Orochimaru's snake-like gaze with a calm and composed expression.

If possible, he preferred to limit his interactions with clever individuals like Orochimaru. Cooperation might be necessary in the future but definitely not now.

Only when Shimizu had the strength to suppress this venomous snake would he consider working with him.

Orochimaru was one of the legendary Sannin, a warrior who had survived countless life-and-death battles. Such a formidable figure was not to be underestimated.

"Orochimaru-sama, I must take my leave."

Shimizu turned and continued into the patient ward.

At this point in time, Orochimaru had not yet descended into madness.

He still carried a fiery passion, harboring ambitions to become Hokage for the sake of scientific research.

A hopeful and ambitious Orochimaru would not target him, so Shimizu had no qualms about rejecting him.

Once the Third Shinobi War ended, Orochimaru would become a wanted criminal, preoccupied with survival.

"Heh heh, Shimizu-kun, how decisive you are."

Orochimaru showed no disappointment; instead, he smiled.

He was confident that Shimizu was the same type of person as himself—someone who pursued the mysteries of life.

There was plenty of time; he could be patient.

Shimizu's talent was worth the investment.

Uchiha District, Shimizu's Home

Shimizu sat cross-legged, using the Byakugan to examine his skeletal and meridian systems internally.

Pale blue arcs of lightning intertwined within his body, mingling with green streams of light, continuously circulating without pause.

If someone were nearby, they would hear the powerful drum-like rhythm of his heartbeat.

The heart pumped blood through his body, creating a symphony of rushing water and rhythmic beats.

"Hoo..."

Exhaling deeply, Shimizu gradually quieted the sounds until the room returned to complete silence.

"Ordinary blades probably can't harm me now."

Picking up a kitchen knife, he ran it across his palm, leaving only a faint white mark.

This was a significant improvement in defense. Without even using chakra to reinforce his hand, his body was already this resilient.

Next, he tested with a sharp kunai. His skin momentarily resisted before a cut formed, and a few beads of blood emerged.

"Against specialized ninja craftsmanship, I'm still lacking."

Putting down the kunai, Shimizu activated his medical ninjutsu. A faint green light flashed in his hand, and the wound disappeared, leaving only traces of dried blood.

In the ninja world, it was common knowledge that human flesh could not withstand divine weapons.

No matter how much the body was strengthened, without chakra reinforcement, it remained mortal flesh.

One notable exception was the Hidden Cloud Village, known for developing techniques to enhance physical strength.

The Third Raikage had reportedly fought for three days and nights before succumbing to exhaustion—a testament to his incredible physical endurance.

"Given enough time, I will surpass the Raikage."

Shimizu stared at the kunai, its metallic sheen reflecting the sunlight, lost in thought.

The Third Raikage was still bound by the limits of human potential, no matter his talent in physical refinement.

But Shimizu could continuously stack his talents, pushing his limits tenfold, even a hundredfold beyond others.

Even if the Ōtsutsuki clan prohibited ninjutsu, Shimizu would teach them the true meaning of taijutsu with a single punch.

"Perhaps I should research the power of Moryo."

The power of Moryo could transform and strengthen the body, suggesting that it belonged to the realm of Yang Release.

If he could incorporate it into the cycle of Lightning Release: Rebirth Training, it might accelerate physical conditioning and even eliminate the technique's side effects.

The division of human cells was limited, and exploiting physical potential in this way would inevitably shorten his lifespan.

But if Moryo's power could extend the number of cell divisions, then Shimizu's lifespan could effectively increase.

"I need a test subject. Conducting human experiments in Konoha is too risky; I'll start with animals for now."

Rising to his feet, Shimizu fed the white doves as usual, contemplating where to acquire a batch of lab mice.

He had already mastered dark medical ninjutsu but had not yet conducted clinical trials.

He dared not experiment directly on himself, as the consequences were unpredictable.

Even when massaging Kushina, he had only made minor adjustments to hormones related to desire, leaving most other aspects unchanged.

Watching the doves eat, Shimizu gave a few instructions before stepping out of the house, heading toward Uchiha Fugaku's residence.

Today was the day he was supposed to help Mikoto with her physical therapy.

Twenty Minutes Later

At the entrance to a simple and elegant courtyard, Shimizu knocked familiarly.

Soon, the door opened slightly, revealing a fair face with classic features that exuded gentleness, reminiscent of a traditional Yamato Nadeshiko.

"Shimizu."

"Hello, Mikoto-nee-san. I've come to help you with your therapy. How have you been feeling lately?"

"Much better, thanks."

Mikoto smiled faintly, looking healthier than before.

She led Shimizu inside, where Uchiha Fugaku was also present.

He sat on the veranda, reading a newspaper under the warm sunlight.

"Fugaku, Shimizu is here to help me with my therapy."

"Hmm."

Fugaku responded indifferently without looking up, continuing to read his newspaper.

Over the years, Shimizu's regular visits to assist Mikoto had become routine. Fugaku was satisfied with Shimizu's medical skills, seeing Mikoto's improved condition.

"Don't neglect your research," Fugaku reminded him.

"Of course, Fugaku-sama."

Nodding, Shimizu continued to walk with Mikoto to the sofa.

The sofa's back conveniently blocked the view from the veranda. When Mikoto lay down, only Shimizu's head and his busy movements were visible to Fugaku.

Sunlight streamed down from the clear sky, encouraging the courtyard's flowers and plants to stretch greedily toward its warmth.

Were it not for the ongoing war, this would have been a serene and peaceful moment.

"Do you still feel cold in your abdomen?"

Shimizu asked as he placed his hand on Mikoto's abdomen, using chakra to regulate her meridian system.

"Occasionally, but not often."

"That's normal."

Mikoto closed her eyes, visibly relaxed.

Shimizu nodded.

The occasional discomfort was intentional on his part. If she were completely healed, he would lose his excuse to maintain contact.

For Mikoto, Shimizu used a different massage technique.

For Kushina, he had amplified... desires.

For Mikoto, he... diminished desires.

He aimed to make her indifferent, even averse, to such matters.

Mikoto was a traditional wife who prioritized her husband, embodying the saying "marry a chicken, follow the chicken; marry a dog, follow the dog."

To prevent her from conceiving Itachi, Shimizu had gone to great lengths.

So far, it was clear that Mikoto had not been intimate with Fugaku.

This meant that Shimizu's efforts had not been in vain—Itachi's birth had successfully been delayed.

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