Dropped into Naruto, Breaking the World Apart

In the dead of night, the lights in Orochimaru's mansion were still on. He sat quietly, head lowered, flipping through a scroll.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

Getsushoku pushed the door open and entered, glancing around casually before bowing respectfully.

"Orochimaru-sama."

Orochimaru looked up, a strand of black hair falling across his face.

"Did Danzō send you on some sort of classified mission?"

"An assassination. The target is a Uchiha," Getsushoku replied calmly, his tone devoid of emotion.

After the Nine-Tails incident, the Fourth Hokage had perished, and the Third had reclaimed power. Danzō wasted no time baring his fangs toward the Uchiha. While Namikaze Minato had maintained a fairly good relationship with the clan in life—leading to a period of relative peace—this wasn't something Danzō was willing to tolerate.

Getsushoku added, "Danzō doesn't trust me."

Danzō only trusted Root members branded with his cursed tongue seal. And Getsushoku, being openly associated with Orochimaru, was always viewed with suspicion—no matter how capable he was.

"I see." Orochimaru gave a low chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. "In that case, there's no need for you to take orders from Danzō anymore."

Placing Getsushoku within Root had always been a throwaway move, a contingency. It seemed he had unintentionally replaced Kabuto's original role.

True, Danzō had dirt on Orochimaru regarding human experimentation—but Orochimaru didn't particularly care. To be precise, he no longer cared about this village at all.

Getsushoku nodded silently, like a well-trained puppet.

In truth, he'd quite enjoyed working for Danzō. But now that Orochimaru had begun preparing for his defection, it was only natural to deal with "loose ends" before leaving.

Having finished his report, Getsushoku was casually waved off. Orochimaru gestured that he could leave.

Getsushoku turned to go. Orochimaru stared at his back for a long moment, a faint glimmer of suspicion flashing in his slitted eyes.

"Am I being too paranoid…?"

Getsushoku had once been one of Orochimaru's test subjects. He looked completely average—an utterly forgettable presence. Even Orochimaru didn't know the boy's original identity. Who knew where Root had dug him up? The trail had long gone cold.

Getsushoku had survived several experiments by sheer luck and displayed a measure of talent, enough for Orochimaru to take him under his wing. Without Orochimaru's protection, Getsushoku would be nothing.

He was entirely Orochimaru's creation, so he should be above suspicion. And yet... Orochimaru's past had been too riddled with betrayal. He couldn't bring himself to trust anyone.

...

Back at his quarters, Getsushoku locked the door, threw himself onto the bed, and shut his eyes, taking deep breaths to suppress the overwhelming resentment bubbling inside him.

After a while, he let out a long sigh, slowly regaining his composure.

He got up, walked to the bathroom, and splashed his face with cold water. But when he looked up and saw his utterly plain face in the mirror, a fresh wave of frustration surged.

This wasn't his body. This wasn't his face.

Back in his old life, whenever he read webnovels, the main characters always transmigrated into handsome guys. But him? He'd gone from being a certified hottie to some total nobody.

He had no idea how other transmigrators got used to their new bodies. He, for one, couldn't stand using someone else's body for everyday stuff. Even the thing he had to hold when peeing wasn't his. Every time, it just felt wrong.

To be honest, Getsushoku didn't even know how he'd transmigrated. One moment he was doomscrolling through short videos late at night; the next, he'd dozed off—and when he opened his eyes again, he was tied up in Orochimaru's lab.

If he'd woken up as a member of a ninja clan, or someone important, maybe even with some overpowered cheat system, he'd have welcomed the transmigration. But no—at first, he hadn't even been bound to a system. He was just a weak, helpless, pitiful lab rat.

He wanted to go home. He wanted his phone. He wanted air conditioning—not torture and agony in a lab.

The screams of test subjects and the sickening mix of disinfectant and blood quickly forced him to sober up. This was his reality now, and he had no choice but to accept it.

If he'd been thrown into this world for no reason, then his only hope of returning lay in staying alive. As long as he lived, he had a chance to go back.

First, he had to figure out where he was—and what identity this body belonged to. Even without thinking, he knew: if anyone found out he was a transmigrator, they'd slice him up in a heartbeat.

He tried talking to others, only to realize—horrifyingly—that he couldn't understand a single word they were saying.

Shit!

He'd read tons of webnovels and watched plenty of isekai dramas, but not once had he seen a transmigrator struggle with a language barrier!

Thankfully, no one really talked to experimental subjects, so he just played dumb.

Getsushoku sat in silence. If this was going by standard transmigration tropes, then all he needed to do was clear his mind, and the original owner's memories would come flooding in. Then he'd scream, break out in a cold sweat, accept those tragic memories, shout "Don't worry, I'll avenge you!" and fully integrate into this new body.

But no matter how long he waited, nothing came. He didn't get any memories. This wasn't that kind of start.

In theory, there was a second type of setup: pretend to have amnesia. A friend of the original body would appear, believe him unconditionally, and spill every last detail of his backstory without question.

But that route wasn't available either. No system, no memories—just one brutal experiment after another.

The pain twisted his psyche. Only then did he finally understand why some transmigrators went off the deep end so fast—abandoning morality and becoming ruthless monsters.

First impressions really did matter.

If he'd been reborn as a genius of the Sarutobi clan, doted on by elders and surrounded by warm friendship and affection, he probably would've integrated into Konoha quickly and fought for the village.

But now? He was nothing but a broken, discarded tool. His heart was filled with endless hatred. He used to love Naruto, loved Konoha—but now, all he wanted was to reduce the place to radioactive rubble.

Don't give him that crap about "Konoha is innocent. All the evil deeds were Danzō and Orochimaru's doing." What, like Danzō and Orochimaru weren't part of Konoha?

They were its high-ranking officials. Their actions were the village's actions.

You don't get to pin everything on Danzō and act like the village is some pure little lotus blossom.

So yeah—Getsushoku hated every single person in Konoha, equally.

Maybe his resentment had grown so thick and heavy that, just as he was on the brink of death, it finally attracted something…

After enduring those horrific human experiments, he'd long forgotten what happiness felt like. But then, the system appeared—bringing with it a sliver of hope. He clung to that chance, completed the initial test, and finally succeeded in binding with the system.

The system, which introduced itself as the Super Ultra Evil Villain, couldn't have been a better match for him...

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Pls Drop some Power Stones

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