Chapter 540: I Also Have Someone I Want to Protect

Deep within a hidden underground facility far from the residential area of Konoha Village, inside Orochimaru’s Research Institute.

The air was filled with the faint scent of disinfectant, mixed with various herbs, chemical reagents, and a lingering, subtle aroma unique to biological tissue culture fluid.

Cold metal instruments reflected chilly light under the shadowless lamps, and the screens of various devices flickered with streams of eerie green or pale blue data, creating an atmosphere of technological precision that was distinct from the outside world—calm to the point of being cold.

Supported by Tayuya, Nagato slowly walked through the corridor filled with various culture tanks and experimental equipment, finally stopping outside a spacious, well-equipped operating room at the very end.

For the final stretch of the path, he refused Tayuya’s support and walked into the brightly lit, pristine operating room on his own.

The operating table was made of cold metal and covered with a clean, white sterile sheet.

With a sense of ritual, Nagato moved his body with some difficulty but determined movements, lying down on the operating table.

His body had deteriorated further.

The coldness of the metal passed through the thin sterile sheet to his back, causing his already low-temperature body to shiver slightly, but his gaze was unusually firm, even carrying a sense of relief-like calm.

"Oh my, oh my,"

Accompanied by the slight sound of a sliding door opening, Orochimaru’s magnetic, raspy, and playful voice rang out.

He walked in, already dressed in a full set of sterile surgical scrubs, wearing a mask and goggles. His golden snake-like pupils flickered with intrigued light behind the lenses, and he held sterilized rubber gloves, slowly and methodically putting them on.

"What a rare guest, Nagato-kun. How about that, did you suddenly see the light?"

Orochimaru walked to the side of the operating table, looking down at Nagato lying on it, his eyes filled with the excitement and curiosity of a researcher seeing precious experimental material.

He remembered clearly that when he previously helped Nagato examine and remove the hidden traps that Uchiha Obito might have left in his body, he had made a suggestion.

To transplant the highly stable Hashirama cells he had carefully cultivated, in an attempt to repair Nagato’s body, which had been severely overdrawn and riddled with holes due to the excessive use of the Rinnegan and the Gedo Statue.

However, this proposal was rejected by Nagato without hesitation at the time.

The reason was simple and direct; Nagato had deep psychological trauma regarding "Hashirama cells."

Previously, Uchiha Obito had tricked him into letting White Zetsu transplant cells containing Hashirama cells, which caused his body to be severely eroded and become increasingly worse.

Once bitten by a snake, one fears a rope for ten years, let alone this kind of "snake" that had almost cost him his life and made him endure endless pain.

Therefore, Orochimaru was full of curiosity about Nagato’s behavior of voluntarily lying on the operating table at this moment.

Nagato did not answer immediately. He slowly raised his right hand, which was as withered as a tree branch with skin clinging to the bone, and spread his five fingers, blocking the glaring light of the shadowless lamp above his eyes.

Through the gaps in his fingers, his red eyes stared at the dazzling white light, but deep in his gaze was a silent determination, as if he had made some unshakable resolution.

"I want to... live a little longer."

Nagato’s voice was very soft, but it echoed clearly in the silent operating room.

His gaze moved away from between his fingers and turned to Orochimaru. In those red eyes, there was no hesitation or fear, only clarity.

"I can feel that this body cannot hold on for much longer. I used to think it didn’t matter, but now... it won’t do."

Orochimaru’s snake-like pupils narrowed slightly, keenly catching the subtle change in Nagato’s words: "Oh? What made Nagato-kun change his ’it doesn’t matter’ mindset? Did you see the dawn of peace? Or do you have a new attachment?"

His tone was teasing, as if he were peeping at an interesting experimental variable.

Nagato was silent for a moment and lowered his hand. His gaze seemed to pierce through the ceiling of the operating room, looking into an unknown distance, or perhaps, looking at the blue-haired woman who had tightly grabbed his arm under the street lamp.

"I also have someone I want to protect."

He finally said, his tone flat, but it contained a weight of a thousand jin.

Upon hearing this, a trace of realization flashed in Orochimaru’s golden snake-like pupils, and the corners of his mouth seemed to curve upward. Even through the mask, one could feel his playful smile: "Is that so... The power of love is truly wonderful. Even the ’God’ who once intended to make the world feel pain would change his mind for this."

Facing Orochimaru’s teasing, Nagato’s reaction was very flat, even carrying a sense of correction.

He turned his head, his red eyes staring straight into the eyes behind Orochimaru’s goggles: "It is family affection."

In his heart, Konan was never an object of romantic love.

They were companions who had shared the darkest childhood, walked side by side on the bloodiest paths, and supported each other as they crawled out of Hell; they were existence like family, transcending blood ties and ordinary emotions.

Yahiko was the sun that illuminated them, and he and Konan were survivors huddled together for warmth in the darkness.

Seventeen years ago, the sun fell.

He and Konan were each other’s only remaining light and heat, each other’s family, and his last and only bond in this world.

Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, seemingly noncommittal to Nagato’s correction.

Whether it is family affection or romantic love, to him, they are both interesting human emotional variables, one of the inducements driving behavioral change.

What he was more interested in was the reaction of Nagato’s body after the transplantation of Hashirama cells, the wonderful combination that might be produced by the two powerful Bloodlines, and whether this battle-scarred body could rejuvenate under the power of the new cells.

"Family affection... a good reason."

Orochimaru did not say much more, put on the last glove, and made a slight "pop" sound.

He walked to the side of the operating table, checking the light green tissue prepared on the tray next to it, which was stored in a special culture fluid.

That was the high-purity Hashirama cell active tissue that he had improved many times, eliminating most of the risks of rejection and going out of control.

"So, Nagato-kun, please relax. Although the process might have some... um, small discomfort, but believe me, this is much more interesting than you continuing to drag this broken body and linger on."

Orochimaru’s voice came through the mask, carrying the excitement peculiar to a scientific madman.

"Let us begin, and see if the God of Shinobi cells can ignite the last embers of your ’Uzumaki’ body."

The light of the shadowless lamp focused on the operating table, and the cold instruments gleamed with chilly light.

Nagato slowly closed his eyes, completely surrendering himself to this scientist who was both righteous and evil, yet possessed the top biological technology in the Ninja World.

In order to live a little longer, in order to accompany the person who said "I only have you," he was willing to embrace this power that had once brought him pain again.

The surgery was about to begin.

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