Naruto: Starting as the Third Hokage with Tears in His Eyes

In the golden light of the night, two completely different yet equally cold and sharp auras suddenly tore through the air on the left and right sides of the manor.

But in the center of the courtyard, Hidan and all his followers had no time to spare.

Their world consisted only of the towering thousand-armed Buddha statue and the countless enormous arms behind it that blotted out the sky.

Hashirama Senju did not change his gesture of clasping his hands together; he simply looked calmly at the tiny intruders before him.

Then, the real number of people started moving.

It wasn't the earth-shattering strike that Hidan imagined.

A massive wooden hand, large enough to cover the entire courtyard, descended slowly with a gentle grace completely disproportionate to its size.

The shadow of that hand descended, bringing not the oppression of death, but a more desperate and irresistible absolute confinement.

"Attack! Attack! For the sake of the evil god!"

Hidan broke free from the tremor that originated from his very soul and unleashed a hysterical roar.

He wielded his three-sectioned scythe, propelled himself forward with his feet, and transformed into a blood-red afterimage as he charged toward the descending palm.

His followers behind him were also infected by his madness, and they all raised their weapons, and various ominous chakra waves gathered together, trying to shake the god.

However, it was no use.

Hidan's scythe struck the wooden palm without even a spark, producing only a dull clang. The immense recoil caused his hand to split open, and the weapon nearly slipped from his grasp.

Attacks from other believers were like throwing a stone into the sea, having no effect whatsoever.

The wooden palm continued to fall, precise and steady.

Hidan felt himself being gripped by an invincible force. His proud immortality, his body that could withstand any pain, was now powerless to resist.

Then came the second one, the third one...

The Buddha statue's thousands of arms, like an experienced farmer picking up pebbles in a field, lift up cultists from the ground.

They were firmly bound by wooden fingers, unable to move, and the morbid fanaticism on their faces turned into pure, incomprehensible horror.

"Ah...be careful, be careful..."

While controlling this miraculous creation, Hashirama Senju muttered to himself, his gaze nervously fixed on a few clusters of brightly blooming chrysanthemums on the ground between the Buddha's Hand grabbing the cultists.

"Don't step on it, that's Hiruzen's favorite variety. If he keeps nagging about it, my ears will be ringing again."

Moments later, all the evil cultists who had invaded the courtyard were captured by the giant hands of the True Thousand Hands. The Buddha statue carefully piled them up in a corner of the courtyard, forming a small mountain made of human bodies.

After doing all this, Hashirama Senju clapped his hands, his face showing more helplessness than authority.

Just now.

A hoarse laugh, yet filled with barely suppressed excitement, echoed from the shadows of the courtyard.

"Sparashi..."

Orochimaru's figure emerged from the shadow of a tree, as if he himself were made of shadow.

Behind him followed several researchers, including Hiruko, who were wearing white lab coats and goggles.

His golden vertical pupils were fixed on the small mountain made up of cultists, especially the silver-haired man at the very top who was still struggling and cursing—Hidan.

"Such a perfect life form... Even when completely bound, its vitality shows no signs of diminishing, and it's even exchanging energy at a unique frequency... It's simply a gift from the gods!"

Orochimaru stuck out his long tongue and licked his lips, his thirst for knowledge almost turning into a tangible light.

He waved his hand.

"Collection begins! Group A, handle live tissue sections; Group B, handle blood and cytokine samples; Group C, I need you to record their complete chakra fluctuation patterns! Remember, they must be alive!"

The researchers behind him, like soldiers hearing a bugle call to charge, pulled out all sorts of strange instruments from their ninja tool bags with fanatical eyes—specially made syringes with markings, collectors that flickered with faint electric arcs, and culture dishes engraved with sealing techniques.

They charged toward the group of prisoners.

Hidan, who was firmly bound by Wood Release, stopped cursing.

He looked at the man in the lead, the one with snake-like eyes, and at the pure, unadulterated look in the other man's eyes as he regarded the rare experimental material.

At that moment, Hidan felt something more profound than death for the first time.

It's a chilling feeling of being completely stripped of one's human attributes, reduced to a piece of meat on a chopping board, an object waiting to be dismantled, analyzed, and studied.

His body began to tremble violently and uncontrollably.

"No...you can't...I was chosen by the evil god!"

For the first time, his voice trembled.

His answer was a cold collection needle precisely inserted into his carotid artery.

……

To the left of the manor, in the dense forest.

Another squad of cultists was moving at high speed, their goal being to bypass the main entrance and break in from the side.

The experienced captain gestured for everyone to remain silent.

But as he ran, he realized that the sensation under his feet was wrong.

The once solid ground has become muddy and slippery.

He lowered his head, and then his whole body froze.

What I was stepping on wasn't mud at all, but crystal-clear water.

The water was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the moon in the sky.

Unbeknownst to them, their team found themselves in the middle of a bottomless lake that had appeared out of nowhere.

In the center of the lake, a silver-haired man with red eyes stood quietly on the water, arms crossed.

He wore blue armor, his face expressionless, his red eyes like those of a god judging life and death, coldly watching the intruders.

Tobirama Senju.

"Water Release: Water Severing Wave".

He spoke softly, his voice as cold as ice in winter, devoid of any warmth.

Streams of high-pressure water, compressed to the thinness of cicada wings, were expelled from his mouth, tracing paths too thin for the naked eye to see in the night.

They are both water and blades.

laugh!laugh!laugh!

The water line swept across at a speed beyond the limits of vision.

The few cultists at the forefront froze at the same time.

The next second, their bodies, from head to toe, were instantly and evenly cut into dozens of pieces, which were neatly scattered on the water's surface.

The wound was as smooth as a mirror.

However, an even stranger thing happened.

The scattered pieces of meat, after falling into the water, were still wriggling slightly and began to slowly gather together, as if an invisible force was trying to piece them back together.

Tobirama Senju's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

His senses had already covered the entire area, and the moment these creatures were cut open, he analyzed their internal chakra structure.

This is a life form never seen before, where chakra and the body are forcibly connected in a strange way, more like an energy loop based on some kind of contract or curse, rather than a cycle generated by the life form itself.

It's that blasphemous thing again.

Compared to Madara Uchiha's arrogance in pursuing the ultimate power, these guys in front of him made him feel more uncomfortable.

This is a defilement of the very concept of life.