Viciously kicking a cripple's good leg and jabbing a one-eyed man's good eye-that was what Meihui did. Let us spare three seconds of sympathy for poor Victor. Not a second more.
Victor's screams pierced the heavens. Before he could react, the Konohamaru in his grasp had become Uzumaki Meihui, who had immediately dealt him a vicious blow. His only good eye and leg were both ruined. Although he could slowly restore them with his regeneration technique, he had never imagined that the man before him would be such a devil.
The moment his leg healed, Meihui kicked it again. The crack of bone rang out, followed by Victor's screams.
Watching Victor continue to scream, Meihui curled his lip in disdain. That's it? He's already at his limit? His regeneration isn't even as fast as Orochimaru's. Come to think of it, I haven't gone to play with Orochimaru in ages.
Just as Meihui thought of Orochimaru, a little white snake observing the situation from somewhere nearby shuddered, suddenly overcome by a bad feeling.
Meihui glanced toward the distant shadows and narrowed his eyes. He had just sensed some familiar chakra. It was probably Orochimaru. Oh well, he would leave him alone for now.
Looking down at Victor on the ground, Meihui asked, "Hey, old man, you're not dead yet. Stop pretending. Tell me what exactly your organization does."
Victor clenched his teeth. How could he possibly reveal his organization's secrets?
Without a second thought, Meihui grabbed Victor and slapped him several times, demanding with each blow, "Are you going to talk or not? Are you?"
"Well, well, you're pretty tight-lipped! Are you going to talk? Are you?"
Meihui never stopped slapping him. Soon, Victor's face had swollen into a pig's head, and he could only mumble.
The others heard Victor's feeble