"By your command! My Queen!"
The loud and sycophantic response echoed through the dilapidated church, shaking loose a few wisps of dust.
Sato Kazuma and Sakata Gintoki, two men who had just been in agony over their respective dark histories, were now engaged in another heated debate over the question of "where to find a castle for the Queen."
Seeing that the two were about to start exposing each other's pasts again, Perona impatiently tapped the ground with the handle of her parasol.
"Enough, you two maggots." She wrinkled her small nose, her face full of disgust.
"Stop arguing. First, solve the clothing problem, then find a place to stay, and finally, dessert and hot cocoa. Don't you understand the order?"
"Yes!"
"Understood!"
The two men immediately fell silent, bowing and scraping like pugs waiting for their Master's reprimand.
Gintoki's eyes darted around as he pointed to a cabinet full of junk in the corner of the church: "My Queen, there seem to be some old clothes left by the former priest over there. Why not let this guy make do with those for now?"
Kazuma looked in the direction he pointed, his eyes lighting up. Anything to wear would do; it was better than being naked.
Perona nodded reluctantly: "Hurry up, don't dawdle. I don't want to stay with a naked pervert for too long."
While Kazuma scrambled to find clothes and Gintoki plotted how to buy the finest desserts with the least amount of money to please their new mistress, a completely different scene was unfolding in a dark corner on the other side of the city.
---
Hells Kitchen, West District.
Inside an abandoned meatpacking plant, the air was thick with the smell of rust, engine oil, and a faint hint of blood. Under the dim yellow lights, two groups of people stood in a clear standoff, the atmosphere as tense as a tightened wire.
On one side was the burly, rough-faced Russian Gang, led by a man named Boris, whose massive beer belly nearly burst through his expensive suit.
On the other side was the local Jiru Gang, mostly lean street punks led by a man named Jiru, whose eyes were as fierce as a wolf's.
Tonight was their scheduled arms deal.
"Where's the goods?" Jiru spoke first, his voice raspy.
Boris grinned, revealing several gold teeth. He clapped his hands, and two subordinates immediately hauled over a heavy wooden crate, prying it open in front of Jiru. Inside, brand-new automatic rifles gleamed with a cold metallic luster under the lights.
Jiru nodded with satisfaction and gave a wink to his men behind him. His subordinate pushed forward a leather suitcase filled with U.S. dollars.
The transaction proceeded exceptionally smoothly, with smiles appearing on both sides at the prospect of making a fortune.
However, just as Boris leaned over to check the cash in the suitcase, something unexpected happened.
Without warning, in the open space between the two groups, the air rippled like water. A second later, a figure appeared out of thin air.
It was a man, or rather, a man with an extremely eerie appearance.
He was tall and slender, wearing a loose, ancient-style kimono, with long jet-black hair cascading over his shoulders.
His skin was a sickly pale, almost transparent under the dim lights. Most unsettling were his eyes—golden pupils that were slitted like a snake's, with eerie purple eyeshadow extending from the corners of his eyes.
This person was none other than Orochimaru.
Just a moment ago, he had been in his dark underground research Base, observing with interest the cellular changes of a test subject under the erosion of a Cursed Seal, recording precious data.
The next second, a powerful sense of vertigo hit him, and everything around him turned into streaks of light.
By the time his vision returned, he was standing here.
His surroundings were unfamiliar, filled with strangers and the scent of a mixture of gunpowder and cigarettes.
Orochimaru did not panic, let alone feel fear. His snake-like eyes simply scanned the surroundings calmly, like a human stumbling into an anthill, observing the panicked reactions of these ants.
Then, a translucent panel that only he could see appeared before his eyes.
[Welcome to the "Marvel Universe," Player Orochimaru.]
[All players involved are divided into three major factions based on their intrinsic attributes—]
Orochimaru's gaze swept quickly over the explanatory text. When he saw the faction divisions, a cold arc curled at the corner of his mouth.
[Assigned Faction: Raid Faction—]
The system automatically assigned him a faction, and a blood-red skull icon flickered at the top of his field of vision.
"Interesting—" Orochimaru extended his long tongue and licked his lips.
"Something with even more research value than the Shikotsumyaku and Sharingan has appeared. A different World... a Singularity—"
His attention was completely captivated by the introduction of the System Shop.
"reputation points... can exchange for anything? Hehehe... I wonder if I can exchange them for the technology I want, or perhaps... the perfect vessel?"
Immortality and truth were his only pursuits. This suddenly appearing "System" seemed to have opened a whole new door for him.
While Orochimaru was immersed in his analysis of the new knowledge, the two gang leaders at the trade site were in an uproar.
"Boris! What the hell do you think you're doing!" Jiru barked, stepping back as his men collectively raised their guns, aiming at the Russian Gang.
"Are you trying to double-cross me?!"
"Bullshit!" Boris roared back, standing tall, his fleshy face filled with shock and suspicion.
"I didn't bring this guy! I thought you were the one playing tricks!"
A person suddenly appearing out of nowhere was something that had never happened in their deals. Both sides instantly fell into a chain of suspicion, each thinking the other was using this strange intruder to disrupt the deal and take advantage.
The atmosphere was explosive, a single spark away from chaos.
"Calm down!" Jiru suppressed his anger, knowing that opening fire now would benefit no one. "Let's figure out where this guy came from first!"
Boris nodded while panting heavily, agreeing to the proposal.
"Hey!" Jiru gestured with his chin toward a lean subordinate behind him. "You, go ask him."
"Me?" The subordinate's face turned pale.
"And you!" Boris pointed to an unlucky soul on his side as well. "Go together! Damn it, see what the hell this thing is!"
To prove their innocence to each other, the two bosses decided to send one man each to question the uninvited guest.
The two unlucky men chosen looked at each other, both seeing reluctance in the other's eyes. But since they couldn't disobey the boss's orders, they had to bite the bullet, each pulling a handgun from their waist and cautiously approaching Orochimaru from both sides.
"Hey! You!" Jiru's subordinate pointed his gun at Orochimaru, shouting with feigned bravado, "Who are you? Who sent you?"
The Russian Gang's brute was more direct, shouting in broken English, "Hands up! Or I'll put a hole in your pretty face!"
They saw that Orochimaru had no weapons and no defenses, simply looking at them with those eerie golden eyes. There was no fear in his gaze; instead, it was as if he were looking at two lab rats awaiting slaughter.
This look infuriated them.
"Damn it, why waste words with him!" Jiru's subordinate lost his patience and stepped forward, intending to smash the butt of his gun into Orochimaru's face.
However, before he could even raise his hand, he saw a sight he would never forget for the rest of his life.
From the wide sleeves of the man who was as pale as a ghost, two pitch-black "things" suddenly lunged out!
They weren't ropes, nor were they chains.
They were snakes!
Two jet-black, shimmering venomous snakes shot out from Orochimaru's sleeves at a speed impossible for the naked eye to track!
*Puchi!*
*Puchi!*
Two faint sounds of sharp objects piercing flesh rang out almost simultaneously.
The fierce expressions on the two gang members' faces instantly froze.
They stiffly looked down and saw bowl-sized blood holes in their chests. One black snake had pierced a heart, while the other had bitten through a throat.
They didn't even have time to scream before their lives rapidly drained away. The light in their eyes dimmed, and they fell straight backward.
Only after the bodies hit the ground with two dull thuds did the two murderous black snakes "zip" back into Orochimaru's sleeves as if they had never appeared.
The entire processing plant fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone was stunned by this eerie and bloody scene. Boris and Jiru's mouths hung open, the fat on their faces trembling. Their subordinates couldn't even hold their guns, and the sound of metal hitting the floor clattered throughout the room.
What was this? Magic? Or... sorcery?
Orochimaru slowly raised his head, his golden snake pupils scanning every person present.
He extended his tongue and licked his lips once more, a creepy, research-oriented smile spreading across his face.
"Decent experimental subjects... a bit weak, but the quantity is respectable."
His voice wasn't loud, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly.
"Perfect. Let me test just how many 'reputation points' I can get by killing you all."