Deep within the Moon Temple, the sour stench of long-fermented old bones flooded their nostrils.
Yoru hooked the half-dead Toneri out of the muck with one foot and casually tossed him onto a metal operating table stained with tea marks.
The iron tabletop was icy cold. Scraping against Toneri's paper-white face, it made his entire body jerk violently.
That rusty, dried-blood-crusted sensation made the once-arrogant "god" tremble like a drowning landlubber, unable to even speak properly.
"Search him."
Standing nearby, Yoru pulled a rock-hard compressed ration from his pocket.
He broke off a corner, tossed it into his mouth, and chewed with loud crunches.
Crumbs fell onto his collar, carrying the rancid smell of oil that had sat too long.
He did not see the boy as human at all, treating him like nothing more than a pile of garbage.
Orochimaru had long since become impatient.
His golden snake eyes were now filled with sickening fanaticism and desire.
His thick rubber-gloved hands moved as swiftly as if he were knitting.
Two slender silver needles, coated in some kind of green fluorescent medicine, were expertly inserted along the nerve endings around Toneri's eye sockets.
As the needle tips pierced flesh, they made a teeth-grating tearing sound.
Fine chakra-sensing threads forced their way through those punctures and into Toneri's cerebral cortex.
"Lord Yoru, you really do have quite the heavy hand."
As he worked, Orochimaru let out a hoarse, sticky chuckle.
His tongue circled his lips, gathering a trace of blood seeping from Toneri's head for a careful taste.
"Tsk. Pure Ōtsutsuki bloodline. The taste really is different from the White Zetsu we raise in Iwagakure."
With crazed fervor in his eyes, Orochimaru extracted fragments of Toneri's memories while frantically typing on the battered display.
"Quit the damn chatter."
Yoru tossed the