Scalpel. He said his voice holding an air of command about it which told those who worked with him to obey was simply the way life should be. His outstretched hand received the small knifelike object and he moved to cutting the dead flesh, no blood flowed. He wasn't helping someone dying, indeed like many Sennin before him it seemed like his focus was actually in the morg. Yet unlike Kogan or those other Sennin before him he had legalized what he was doing here, and unlike them he was harvesting organs. He knew of their work of course, he'd had time to study it, read it like any good scientist would. Understanding what they had acheived was harder, and though he knew what they were capable of that didn't mean he would be even capable of replicating their work. That was why medical sennin were special of course, their work took them to the limits of physical possibility, limits which only they could recognise and limits which they always endeavoured to cross.
The recent growth of the number of beings commonly referred to as 'dark sages' were an alarming aspect to life. He had as a youth wanted to be able to bring back the dead, when he realized how possible it was it suddenly bored him. They manifested a combination of some spirit with their own chakra, binding a limited number of bodies to their own will. Whoopty shit. A hand dissapeared into the carcass of this dead shinobi and he felt around for what he wanted from this body. One of the Santaru had been unlucky enough to pass away during a mission, his own medical shinobi are all well in the know that they are to bring him any bloodliners carcass. The hospital had a growing collection of body parts. Saito and Hayata eyes, though he also had a set of Uchiha as well, a prized possession, the wind pipes of a Hashigaki, there were more of course, most of them were from the local clans, and the local clans weren't so happy with that.
Grabbing hold of the small organ found behind the heart the Santaru's power was located not in their eyes like many had stipulated, but in their chakra system itself. Only fitting really for a bloodline apparently descended from a god. God's what a pathetic notion gained from certain powerful beings in history. Just because they'd been capable of acts beyond the comprehension of those who lived alongside them didn't make them gods. Immortality was his goal, and he felt like he'd acheived it, but that was the funny thing with immortality. How could one really ever find out without risking their life. Time would be the best indicator. Time had proven one life was unaging, so why not his own. How he would love to carve that body up, find out what made it tick... or rather what stopped it from ticking and rather kept it in its permanent state. He was sure there'd be something he could find there, some attribute gained through whatever method. The blood he'd gathered from the assassination attempt hadn't been enough, though it had given him indicators. Time would give him the opportunities he needed. One day he'd find out, he was sure of that.
Placing the chakra cortex into a jar with a liquid designed to artificially feed the organs with whatever they needed he closed the lid and sealed it. Only he could open the jar without the contents being destroyed. It was how he'd managed to okay this practice with higher authorities. After all, even a Sennin needed his ideas approved. Though when disapproved that simply meant continuing with them without the approval, and that didn't truely bother him either.
Sew him up and prepare him for his funeral. Let the family know he's ready. he said, removing his gloves and taking the jar with him. It would go into the vault, like all the others, and besides, he had work to do, research to read. He was the Medical Sennin of Cloud, and his lab had just gotten that much bigger.
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The recent growth of the number of beings commonly referred to as 'dark sages' were an alarming aspect to life. He had as a youth wanted to be able to bring back the dead, when he realized how possible it was it suddenly bored him. They manifested a combination of some spirit with their own chakra, binding a limited number of bodies to their own will. Whoopty shit. A hand dissapeared into the carcass of this dead shinobi and he felt around for what he wanted from this body. One of the Santaru had been unlucky enough to pass away during a mission, his own medical shinobi are all well in the know that they are to bring him any bloodliners carcass. The hospital had a growing collection of body parts. Saito and Hayata eyes, though he also had a set of Uchiha as well, a prized possession, the wind pipes of a Hashigaki, there were more of course, most of them were from the local clans, and the local clans weren't so happy with that.
Grabbing hold of the small organ found behind the heart the Santaru's power was located not in their eyes like many had stipulated, but in their chakra system itself. Only fitting really for a bloodline apparently descended from a god. God's what a pathetic notion gained from certain powerful beings in history. Just because they'd been capable of acts beyond the comprehension of those who lived alongside them didn't make them gods. Immortality was his goal, and he felt like he'd acheived it, but that was the funny thing with immortality. How could one really ever find out without risking their life. Time would be the best indicator. Time had proven one life was unaging, so why not his own. How he would love to carve that body up, find out what made it tick... or rather what stopped it from ticking and rather kept it in its permanent state. He was sure there'd be something he could find there, some attribute gained through whatever method. The blood he'd gathered from the assassination attempt hadn't been enough, though it had given him indicators. Time would give him the opportunities he needed. One day he'd find out, he was sure of that.
Placing the chakra cortex into a jar with a liquid designed to artificially feed the organs with whatever they needed he closed the lid and sealed it. Only he could open the jar without the contents being destroyed. It was how he'd managed to okay this practice with higher authorities. After all, even a Sennin needed his ideas approved. Though when disapproved that simply meant continuing with them without the approval, and that didn't truely bother him either.
Sew him up and prepare him for his funeral. Let the family know he's ready. he said, removing his gloves and taking the jar with him. It would go into the vault, like all the others, and besides, he had work to do, research to read. He was the Medical Sennin of Cloud, and his lab had just gotten that much bigger.
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