Whatever Danzō was up to over there, Ryū didn't know, and couldn't be bothered to find out.
After all, Minato had just announced it all in public.
If Danzō didn't already know… he wouldn't be Danzō.
He was the infamous King of the Wok of Konoha, after all. His intelligence network was no joke.
But honestly, Ryū wasn't sweating it. Not even a little.
Because he'd ntally prepared for this a long ti ago.
His strength getting out into the open… was always just a matter of when, not if.
And at his current power level, if he were dropped into the One Piece world, he could casually slot in at mid-tier among the Seven Warlords of the Sea—and that was purely off his taijutsu, without even factoring in his Devil Fruit abilities. Add the fruit's power, and he could comfortably crack the top three of the Warlords.
Top three of the Warlords ant his combat strength was already comparable to Donquixote Doflamingo.
And a single deploynt of Doflamingo's Birdcage could raze an entire small country.
Sure, that "small country's" total population probably didn't even crack a million, and its land area was maybe a couple tis the size of Konoha's village limits…
But at that scale of power, Ryū qualified as a top-tier combatant even within Konoha.
In certain respects, he was no weaker than Kage-level.
Plus his stamina and endurance blew every shinobi in this world out of the water.
Protracted battles? No problem. He could go ten days and ten nights straight.
* * *
Inside Ichiraku Ran, Ryū was plowing through bowls of ran at a pace that defied comprehension. It looked like he wasn't even chewing—just swallowing food whole, the way a snake devours prey.
Next to him, a stack of more than twenty empty bowls had piled up. And these weren't regular bowls. They were several sizes larger than what the other custors were eating from—more like small washbasins.
Bowls that size. Over twenty of them. Demolished in fifteen minutes.
Not even a drop of broth left behind.
* * *
Is this guy even human… That's twenty-four bowls now. And every single one is 1.5x the normal portion—aning at standard size, he's polished off thirty-six.
Minato was having a minor existential crisis. He'd started out just sitting there quietly eating his noodles.
And then sowhere along the way… he'd glanced down to find his own bowl was still one-fifth full.
While the guy two seats over had already destroyed a small mountain.
Minato swore on his life: he had never, not once, seen a stomach like this. Not even a mber of the Akimichi clan could put away that much in a single sitting.
This was simply not a quantity of food that a human being should be able to consu.
And the most baffling part?
Ryū's stomach looked exactly the sa as it had when he sat down.
Flat. Totally undisturbed. As if he hadn't eaten a single bite.
This is just physically impossible!
Minato figured that if he ever tried to eat that much in one go—no, scratch that, if he tried to eat even half of what Ryū had just put down—his stomach would literally rupture. ssily. Horrifically.
Unreal… He'd win any eating contest he entered without breaking a sweat.
Minato muttered to himself, unable to hide his astonishnt.
* * *
Orochimaru, seated beside him, was reacting even more intensely.
Whatever else he was, Orochimaru was a world-class biologist. A research-obsessed madman who routinely perford human experints.
Watching Ryū's monstrous appetite play out in real ti—and connecting it to Minato's earlier remark about Ryū defeating Kakashi without using any ninjutsu—Orochimaru's vertical pupils flashed with one fascinating light after another. His interest deepened by the second.
Now that is… a body worth coveting.
Orochimaru licked the corner of his mouth, already deep in thought.
What would happen if I could acquire that body? If I fused Hashirama's cells into this body, would the integration be flawless? Why is this young man's physiology so extraordinary?
Questions piled up in his head with nobody to answer them.
But Orochimaru was no reckless fool. Quite the opposite—he was calculating, thodical, and a consummate survivor. Even decades later, long after Danzō was dead and buried, Orochimaru would still be alive and well.
He'd even survive all the way into the Boruto era.
And still sohow look twenty years old.
So Orochimaru had always been cautious and wary by nature. Faced with an opponent whose strength was a big question mark, he wasn't about to make any rash moves.
Who knows just how terrifying this kid's real power is—strong enough to put even the Fourth Hokage on guard.
If Ryū's strength hadn't been the real deal, Minato would never have extended an olive branch in the first place.
Konoha is getting more interesting by the day.
* * *
Focused on demolishing his food, Ryū could of course feel the two pairs of eyes locked onto him.
No prizes for guessing whose: Orochimaru's and Minato's.
What the two of them were thinking, Ryū could also guess with reasonable accuracy. He'd read the original Naruto manga, after all. He had a pretty solid grasp of both n's personalities and histories.
He wasn't going to call Orochimaru out on his thoughts. It just felt a bit of a sha that a scientist of that caliber was about to go so thoroughly off the rails.
If Orochimaru hadn't defected from Konoha, by the ti the Guardian Ninja Twelve generation rolled around, Konoha probably would have had computers and the internet.
Because Orochimaru's contributions to Konoha's technology had been genuinely massive. Ryū suspected that at least a tenth of all the tech currently in use in Konoha had co out of Orochimaru's lab, singlehandedly.
Orochimaru's real specialty was biology and chemistry, sure. But when you were this much of a research genius—you dabbled in everything.
* * *
Just as Ryū finished his latest bowl, a figure ca hurrying toward the shop at a brisk pace. Not sprinting, exactly, but moving with urgency.
The figure was panting as it arrived: "H-Hokage-sama, I have an urgent report—"
The figure froze mid-sentence.
"Wh— O-Orochimaru-sama?! Huh?! Yagami-kun?!"
The new arrival was a ninja, wearing a strange mask.
And the outfit looked distinctly different from a regular shinobi's.
Minato, Ryū, and Orochimaru all turned their heads in near-perfect unison.
Taking in the newcor's getup, Ryū's face registered mild surprise.
He recognized the style imdiately. ANBU Black Ops uniform.
And that voice… Ryū's mouth twitched. This was Kakashi. Straight up Kakashi.
The mask couldn't fool him. Ryū had recognized him on voice alone.
Judging by how hard he was panting, Kakashi had rushed over here at full tilt—probably without stopping to catch his breath even once.
Co to think of it… Ryū rembered in the filler arcs, Minato had pulled Kakashi out of ANBU and assigned him to protect the jinchūriki. If mory served, that was roughly how it went.
☆☆☆
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