[Hokage] Scales

In the end, I used the water escape to condense a non-deformable water column the thickness of two chopsticks to solve the eating problem. This water escape was not invented by me. The amount of carat makes a thicker thousand copies.

Wash the empty bowl and put it aside. I don’t know what to do for a while. My eyesight has not fully recovered. It is better to lie back in the water tank. I don’t feel bad after soaking in it for three days and three nights. Once I come out and take a bath After washing away the slightly viscous liquid, there is always an inexplicable feeling of cleanliness that sinks back to be dirty.

Cleanliness is a luxury for ninjas. I don’t know the situation of ordinary ninjas who can live in the sun. At least for ninjas like me, it’s normal to spend a whole day in muddy water for missions. It is not the enjoyment that can be enjoyed anytime and anywhere. I will know that this word comes from the word Yao once used to describe Nao, and I never thought that it could suddenly be applied to myself.

I looked at the calm light blue liquid in the water tank, then turned my head to look at the door, my eyes wandered back and forth a few times, not hesitating, my head was not evaluating the pros and cons but went blank, probably using my subconscious to judge Which is more pleasing to the eye, I make a choice based on my indescribable intuition, maybe I just turned to my "choice" at the moment when I was thinking about making a decision, if I saw another one at that second, maybe now His "choice" is actually an option to give up.

In short, I stood up and walked with silent steps that fortunately did not decline due to the life of the experimental product.

×

The corridor is no different from the one I saw a few days ago, dark and little light, and there are immortal candles hanging on the stone wall. Whenever I think it will go out, it will continue to burn tremblingly. It is better than being accidentally killed by a single blow The target will linger on.

The corridor is not straight, but has large and small arcs, but the width is the same, which is quite in line with my guess that Orochimaru made the psychic beast dig a hole. Both ends are swallowed into the darkness that even my sight can't penetrate. More than I noticed last time, but I only had a quick glance, counting my rooms very carefully, and didn't take a good look at the surroundings.

Suddenly, I realized that I didn't know when I stopped. I looked around to make sure. I stopped in front of the door of the third room on the right when I left the room.

After thinking for a few seconds, I opened the door.

The furnishings in the room are familiar yet unfamiliar. After all, the past few days have been different from when I left, not to mention that what I am familiar with is another perspective.

The room was brighter than I had imagined. The jar that I had been with for a long time was empty. Orochimaru stood beside the operating table, concentrating on injecting strange injections into the human body whose face could not be seen clearly. There is a syringe with a knob on the side to control the flow, and then the needle tip enters the thin hose, which is connected to the open abdominal cavity of the person on the table. The packaging bag, syringe, and hose each have different sealing methods , the colors of the injections in each section of the route are different, and the colors are all mysterious, which cannot be summed up in a few words.

Flicking the packaging bag with his fingers, as if dissatisfied with the flow rate of the medicine, Orochimaru ordered: "Close the door."

I closed the door as promised, took a few steps forward, and stood not too far away, enough for me to see the scene of the operating table carefully.

The experimental subject was a man, unconscious, his limbs twitched occasionally, presumably it was the body's instinctive reflection of the pain, and the heaving chest indicated that the fire of life had not dissipated, but the weak amplitude seemed to indicate that the fire was the same as the candle on the wall. May go out at any time.

Just a few seconds after I had this thought, his hand froze suddenly, and then let go, his whole body was like a dead body.

No, he did die, simply and cleanly, not like those candles that stubbornly resisted the inevitable fate.

Orochimaru took off the packaging bag hanging on the shelf on the other side for dripping, and threw it on the stomach of the experiment subject without much care, and bounced it unexpectedly.

He formed seals, and the stone ground under the operating table turned into soft mud, and the four supporting feet sank. As the nature of the ground changed, the sinking accelerated, devouring the corpses that were no longer useful to Orochimaru, and he untied the stone ground with both hands and returned. There was nothing left in front of him.

I never thought about where the things swallowed by the earth dungeon would go, maybe piles of corpses were buried right under this room, and I used my strong resilience to escape again and again to be with them .

But, how long can I delay?

I stared at the "cemetery" for a long time, and I didn't even notice that Orochimaru was standing next to me. It was him who brushed the hair on the side of my neck and opened the gills to bring me back to my senses.

Although the strength of Sannin is unquestionable, is my vigilance too weak? I have been slack for too long and have no training or tasks. Now, will any random ninja be able to kill me easily?

"Is this the only vigilance of the dull ninja?" Orochimaru stabbed the knife in my somewhat annoyed heart, "The boat I met before was amazing." He still held the handle of the knife and turned it around.

He seemed to like my gills very much. After being turned and touched all over my body, only the gills received the most patronage.

No, I licked it again.

Wet, sticky and slippery, and then, stinging.

...sting?

I turned my head to look at Orochimaru, his tongue, which is completely out of human category, hangs on his lips, curling up a tube of normal shape and unmodified syringe, the plug of the syringe is pressed to the bottom, one drop is the same as the one just eaten by the floor A droplet of the same color as the fluid to be injected hangs over the tip of the needle.

"As I said," his tongue sticking out did not prevent him from articulating clearly, and he retracted his tongue while wrapping the syringe, "the vigilance is really bad."

Until he fell to the ground and his vision was hijacked by darkness, I stared at the golden eyes where his smile reached the bottom of his eyes for the first time.