Orochimaru's scalpel, still reeking of blood, had not even had the chance to plunge down when the mangled shell before his eyes let out a bone-cracking sound that made goosebumps rise.
Isshiki's face, swollen into a pig's head, was now as white as crumpled toilet paper.
As his body collapsed, black, viscous blood dripped from his Rinnegan, sickening to look at.
The deathly stench spraying from his body was like rotten meat left baking beneath the sun for seven days and nights.
Even the laboratory air had been churned into a foul haze by the smell of death.
Orochimaru recoiled in disgust, his golden snake eyes carrying the cold detachment of a doctor examining a patient.
"Already can't hold on? I was planning to peel that skin off him intact."
Yoru stood beside him, idly tossing the freshly gouged-out, bloodstained Rinnegan into the air and catching it.
The bloody smell clung to the gaps between his fingers, but he did not bother wiping it away. He merely watched coldly.
"Forget about his skin, Orochimaru."
"If this old bastard doesn't spit out the truth before he dies, it'll feel like an unflushed toilet clogging up my chest."
Isshiki had nearly passed out from Yoru's stomp.
Half his face was buried in muddy water, and the bloody bubbles spraying from his mouth were full of disgusting black sludge.
With great effort, he raised his head slightly. His Rinnegan locked tightly onto Yoru's face, as though he wanted to carve that man's appearance into his bones.
"Uchiha Yoru..."
His voice sounded like a leaking bellows, hoarse beyond belief.
"You think you've won?"
"You lowly native, you have no idea what you're facing."
Isshiki coughed, hacking up a bloodied shard of bone that struck the rock with a crisp clink.
He stared at Yoru,