Shimura Danzō sat on the dirt bed in his cell, hunched over, his face gaunt and withered, his one eye vacant.
His head of white hair had gone bald like Fire Cloud Evil God's, and his aged face was covered in bark-like wrinkles. A deathly, putrid aura clung to him!
Ever since he'd arrived here, whenever the night grew quiet, Danzō's ambition, his hatred, and his dreams gnawed at his flesh like maggots and devoured his soul!
The pain was unbearable. It was worse than death!
Just a few short years in prison had reduced the Warlord Danzō to a shadow of his former self!
"It's been a long time, Danzō." Orochimaru stood outside the cell, gazing at the old man through the iron bars with an amused smile.
Danzō looked up, his clouded eye fixed on the Severed Arm Person outside.
"Who... are you?" Danzō asked, his voice hoarse, low, and weak.
I'm still the same young man I always was, while you've withered away, one foot already in the Pure Land... Orochimaru let out his signature, sinister chuckle.
The laugh was as shrill and cold as a night owl's cry. It gave anyone who heard it Goosebumps.
Prisoners in several nearby cells cursed and crowded the bars, pointing at Orochimaru and shouting abuse!
Orochimaru didn't get angry. He simply continued to chuckle.
"O... ro... chi... maru..." Danzō finally recognized that unpleasant laugh. Hatred, murderous intent, and relief mingled in his one eye. "You've come to kill me, haven't you?"
"I did consider it before I came. But after seeing you like this, I'd rather you stayed alive—as long as possible." Orochimaru grinned, looking at him with anticipation. "I'm very curious to see how things turn out for you if you keep living like this."
"As you wish. I'll