In Naruto, multiverse and more with Gacha system

The snake was in full mad scientist mode.

Dude had a severed zombie hand chilling on the table like it was normal, casually squeezing out a string of blood into a tube. A few drops on a slide, slap a cover on it, and boom microscope time.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group was settling into the mansion he'd picked out. Decent size, plenty of rooms, and most importantly? No zombies. Perfect for setting up his little… projects.

So there he was, hunched over the scope, scribbling notes like some overachieving student.

"WBCs not present."

Translation? No white blood cells. Zilch. Whatever virus was running the apocalypse show had either wiped them out or turned them into something else.

Fascinating.

He leaned back, fingers tapping against the table. "Alright, next step I need a normal blood sample."

Now, if he were a boring scientist, he'd have asked someone in the group. A little finger prick, a drop of blood, all very ethical.

But this was him.

Instead, he unsealed a corpse from his scroll.

Puff.

And there she was. Some woman his clone had taken out earlier.

Now, before anyone started crying murder, let's be clear she wasn't some helpless civilian. Chick had a gun, proper stance, and the kind of reflexes that screamed "I've done this before." The second his clone showed up, she shot him.

So, uh… yeah. That didn't work out for her. Clone two handled it, quick and clean. No interrogation, no drama.

Orochimaru? Not interested in her backstory. He wasn't writing a biography, just running tests.

Blood sample time.

Drew some from her, mixed it with a male sample, and shoved it under the scope.

Dead bodies didn't have much white blood cells to begin with, and whatever they did have? Already vanishing fast.

Still, enough to work with.

Another scribble in the notes:

Effects on the Dead.

He barely finished before pulling out another scroll.

Puff.

This time? Not a corpse.

A dude. Unconscious. Mouth sealed. Shinobi gear, headband repping some backwater village no one cared about.

See, before all this, Orochimaru had done a little… experimenting. He wanted to know if he could take living things between worlds with him.

So he scooped up a few people that Danzo had locked up. You know, guys that weren't really needed anymore.

And surprise, surprise it worked.

Which made sense. If clothes, weapons, and all his gear came along for the ride, why not people?

That meant test subject #2 was still breathing. Perfect.

Grinning, Orochimaru grabbed another syringe, pulled some fresh zombie juice, and without hesitation mixed it into the shinobi's blood.

Shoved it under the scope.

Watched.

Took notes.

New heading:

Effects on a Living Shinobi.

Now this was getting interesting.

The virus? Completely useless.

Not only did it fail to infect the shinobi's blood, but it just kinda… sat there. Suppressed.

And this wasn't a one-time thing.

Orochimaru had already tested it on a regular, living human before, and the result? Same deal. No infection. No transformation.

Which meant?

Time for some conclusions:

1. Maybe the zombie virus only worked on people from this world.

2. Once a zombie was killed, its blood lost whatever it needed to infect others.

The Sannin smirked, tapping his pen against the table. "You've been standing there for a while. Come in already."

The door creaked open, and Saeko stepped inside. Her gaze swept over the room, barely pausing on the unconscious shinobi before settling on the dead woman on the table. Then, finally, on Orochimaru.

She didn't flinch, didn't react just studied him. Even after spending time around him, her mind still wasn't fully used to his presence. Not when the last person who had real power over her had literally turned her into a slave.

"What do you want?" Orochimaru asked, calmly drawing another string of blood from his latest test subject.

She crossed her arms. "In your world… do people enjoy killing?"

An eyebrow quirked at her phrasing before a quiet chuckle left his lips. "You want to know if there are people like you?"

Her breath hitched.

She hadn't told anyone about that. Not here. Not before.

Orochimaru tilted his head, watching her closely. "You figured it out a while ago, didn't you? That feeling. That thrill. You enjoy it, don't you?"

Her fingers twitched.

Four years ago, a man had tried to assault her. She had fought back. She had won. And in the aftermath, she had realized something that disturbed her more than anything.

She liked it.

Even now, after the outbreak, after watching society crumble, after slaughtering zombies by the dozens she hadn't hesitated. Not once. Because deep down…

She liked killing.

She met Orochimaru's gaze, expecting mockery. Or maybe disgust.

Instead?

He smiled.

And for the first time, she realized just how dangerous this man truly was.

But also?

He wasn't disgusted.

He wasn't shocked, horrified, or recoiling like others would.

No. Orochimaru just looked at her like she was some interesting little specimen under his microscope. Like she was something to be studied, prodded at, not feared.

That should've bothered her. Maybe it did.

But more than anything?

It felt… relieving.