After analyzing the bizarre, unique structure of the magical beast's eye pupil, Orochimaru felt an immediate, profound realization of its immense value.
"I initially dismissed the Tier One Jars as inconsequential," Orochimaru mused, his eyes now burning with feverish intensity as he surveyed the remaining containers. "I was wrong. Any item extracted from another dimension possesses a knowledge and value that is truly priceless!"
Shen Mo allowed a subtle smile. He has the makings of a professional.
Only individuals with this level of insight could appreciate the profound, systemic value of the otherworldly items being revealed.
Orochimaru continued his rapid opening spree. He meticulously instructed Kabuto Yakushi to handle and store every acquisition with the utmost care: biological tissues, bones, and even exotic, extraterrestrial pathogens. He recognized the terrifying potential and fundamental value of these foreign elements.
And indeed, even the Tier One Jars yielded a substantial number of light orbs, which contained crucial, transformative knowledge—experience in handling unique undead tissue, advanced dissection techniques, and even methods for conducting complex life-altering experiments.
"Magnificent," Orochimaru whispered, his eyes closed, his body trembling slightly, flushed with elation.
He had never felt such ecstasy. He was in a paradise of infinite potential. An endless stream of scientific and spiritual inspiration flooded his mind. He yearned to abandon his current body and commence experiments immediately to unravel these new mysteries of life.
"Lord Orochimaru," Kabuto Yakushi murmured helplessly, "Please restrain yourself. Your injuries remain severe."
Despite his words, Kabuto understood the frenzy. The bizarre, highly advanced nature of the items emerging proved the validity of the dimensional merchant. It was like opening a door to an entirely new universe of forbidden knowledge.
Kabuto could already envision the devastating, unstoppable force Orochimaru would become once he synthesized this new Necromantic knowledge with his existing Ninjutsu.
"Every Tier of Jar has a slim chance of containing a highly valuable item that surpasses its level—a Grand Prize!" Orochimaru explained to Kabuto, his speed increasing as he opened the remaining Jars.
He didn't know his luck level, but the desire for that ultimate reward was all-consuming.
Jars shattered rapidly. Most contained light orbs; the rest were fractured skeletal fragments. The most significant pulls were the highly detailed research manuals from otherworldly mad scientists and arcane sorcerers.
But when the final Tier One Jar was opened, no significant Grand Prize had materialized. Only common items.
Shen Mo looked slightly puzzled. Excluding the unique case of Sasuke, this was the first time two hundred Tier One Jars had produced such a lackluster outcome.
Orochimaru's expression darkened slightly.
"These are only Tier One Jars," Shen Mo consoled him. "Perhaps greater fortune awaits in the higher tiers. You have already qualified for Tier Two."
Orochimaru looked at Shen Mo, his voice low with intense conviction: "I believe my desire to fundamentally change my fate is surpassed by no one."
He knew that the received information stated that the intensity of one's desire correlated to a higher chance of winning a Grand Prize.
"Desire merely increases the probability," Shen Mo corrected calmly. "But fate is built upon uncertainty. Is not that very uncertainty the greatest temptation of all?"
It is simply a higher likelihood, not a guarantee. Falling short is the inevitable nature of dealing with fate.
"Fate!"
Orochimaru clenched his fists. To him, fate was the ultimate enemy, the cruelest joke played on humanity.
Regardless, he needed to unlock the Tier Two Jars.
"I will sell off a portion of my remaining Ninjutsu memories and experiences to secure 15 million points," Orochimaru decided instantly.
He remembered the crucial detail: the last ten of the five hundred Tier Two Jars had an extremely high probability of containing an item with Fate-related properties.
That is an absolute necessity!
Confirming the magical reality of the Jars, Orochimaru acted with phenomenal determination.
"Understood."
Shen Mo smiled and waved his hand. Five hundred Tier Two Jars instantly appeared before them.
Orochimaru watched as the memories and experiences were wiped from his mind, replaced with a fresh influx of transaction points. Yet, a genuine smile returned to his lips.
"If one simply purchases enough, the probability of acquiring the desired item increases, even if fate initially frowns upon you. This method aligns perfectly with my ethos," he muttered to himself.
He refused to surrender to the inevitability of death. He would research, he would grow stronger, and he would achieve his goals.
One day, true immortality will be mine.
"You truly are an ideal candidate for the Necromancer Series," Shen Mo commented, hearing the conviction in Orochimaru's internal monologue. "As a living being, you throw yourself into the realm of death with unprecedented fanaticism, seeking power and immortality from the very abyss. You are the perfect client. However, without sufficient potential, this path leads to eternal corruption until you fall completely into the shadows."
Shen Mo, being the architect of the Necromancer prize pool, understood its inherent dangers. He hadn't bothered issuing the warning before because...
"I was already aware of the risk."
Orochimaru opened the first Tier Two Jar without a trace of fear, only heightened anticipation.
The moment the seal broke, a high-pitched, agonizing wail pierced the air, causing a visceral flinch even from Kabuto.
Inside the Jar was a transparent, sealed bottle.
Contained within the bottle was a swirling cloud of dense black mist, constantly slamming against the glass. Occasionally, a man's face, contorted in eternal pain, could be seen momentarily through the fog.
"A Tier Two Necromancer item can contain an actual soul," Shen Mo explained, looking at the bottle. "This Eternally Tortured Soul is a common pull. It's a remnant created by high-tier Mages who subjected the dead to prolonged agony. Though it is a deceased soul, it is entirely mindless, driven only by pain."
Shen Mo's simple explanation carried a chilling lack of empathy.
Kabuto looked at Shen Mo's unchanging expression.
A shiver ran down his spine. Are all true powerhouses this utterly ruthless and cold-blooded?
Kabuto did not know that Shen Mo's lack of reaction stemmed from the knowledge that the soul was merely a construct, a synthetic remnant generated by the system—effectively, a "fake ghost" with no true consciousness, only programmed negative emotions.