Tsunade's entire body trembled as she stared at the grotesque figure of Danzō before her.
She remained silent for a long time, but her fists were clenched so tightly they creaked.
She wanted to throw that punch— yet feared the sight of blood.
Wen Lan saw the struggle and pain in her eyes and spoke softly:
"Someone, go fetch a long bench, a length of rope, and a few bricks."
"Yes!"
The guard immediately left.
Before long, the guard returned. Wen Lan ordered them to bind Danzō to the long bench, bricks stacked beneath his heels. A twisted smile appeared on Wen Lan's face.
"Elder Danzō, last time I treated you to some judicial milk tea. Today, I'll let you experience something called the Tiger Bench.
"I'll gradually stack bricks under your heels, forcibly stretching the joints in your legs—causing excruciating pain, even fractures. I trust that for someone like you, this little bit of pain is nothing."
With a gesture, the second brick was slowly slid beneath Danzō's heels.
Wen Lan watched coldly as Danzō's face contorted in agony.
The second brick.
The third.
The fourth.
Cold sweat poured down Danzō's face. His feet were raised higher and higher, his knees bent under unbearable pressure.
When the fifth brick was placed, a sharp cracking sound echoed from his knees—as though the gears of fate were shattering.
Pain surged like a tidal wave, swallowing his sanity. Danzō let out a piercing scream, his mouth spewing curses.
Yet Wen Lan's gaze remained abyssal in its calm.
Watching Wen Lan's cold, rigid profile, Tsunade felt a swirl of complicated emotions.
She had thought she had long since seen through life and death—
yet now, in that calm gaze, she felt a trace of fear.
Under the intertwined shadows of power and vengeance, who exactly was judging whom?
When the sixth brick went on, Danzō's screams became hoarse and broken, like a truth being pried open inch by inch.
Wen Lan leaned down, his voice barely above a whisper:
"This bench doesn't just pry open joints—it pries open false righteousness.
"You committed crimes in the name of Konoha. Did you ever think you'd see a day like this?"
Danzō suddenly raised his head, eyes bloodshot, roaring curses:
"Wen Lan, you're not human! Your ancestors for eighteen generations will die miserable deaths—!"
Wen Lan's lips curled into a sinister grin.
"Whether my ancestors die well or not, I don't know.
But you? You definitely won't die well."
He turned to the guard.
"I think Elder Danzō's fingernails are a bit long. Go get a needle—insert it beneath the nail and pry it up."
This time, it wasn't just Danzō.
Even Tsunade and the guard shuddered violently. The guard hesitated, stepping back half a pace, hands trembling.
Wen Lan's gaze cut over like a blade.
"What? Afraid? I've got even more terrifying tools."
"Enough!"
Tsunade could no longer take it. She looked deeply at Wen Lan and said,
"You're still just a child—not a monster."
"Monster?" Wen Lan sneered.
"Do you know how my parents died?
"My father died of a bloodline disease. It's a latent illness—it doesn't normally trigger.
"But during the Second Shinobi World War, my father's squad was sent on a secret border mission. On the way back, they were ambushed.
"That old dog—Danzō—deliberately leaked their intelligence. My father's entire squad was nearly wiped out.
"And it was then that my father overused the Sharingan, triggering his bloodline disease.
"Excessive Sharingan usage causes violent chakra fluctuations, directly activating the dormant illness.
"In other words—my father's death was caused by him!"
Wen Lan's voice trembled with suppressed fury.
"What I'm doing now doesn't even amount to one ten-thousandth of the pain he deserves!"
Tsunade opened her mouth, then finally clenched her teeth.
"I can't take this anymore. I'm leaving."
She turned and walked away.
Wen Lan watched her go, then turned back to the guard.
"Go get the needle."
"Yes!"
The guard hurried off.
As Tsunade walked out of Konoha Prison, she had barely stepped outside when she saw someone—
Someone she didn't want to see.
Sarutobi Hiruzen.
He stood there with a pipe in hand, wearing a long robe. Smoke curled around him, his gaze deep as an ancient well.
He slowly exhaled and spoke in a low, hoarse voice:
"Tsunade… you finally came out."
She stared at him, pain and anger flashing in her eyes.
"Teacher… I never imagined this. You were my grand-uncle's disciple!
"This is how you treated the Senju clan?"
Hiruzen let out a long sigh.
"I had no choice. The Senju followed the First Hokage and my teacher's wishes, dispersing among the populace—but at the time, no one took me, the Hokage, seriously.
"And we were on the eve of the Second Shinobi World War. I had to stabilize Konoha."
"And Nawaki? Dan?" Tsunade demanded.
"Their deaths… broke my heart as well," Hiruzen said quietly.
"Nawaki's death was Danzō's doing alone. I didn't know about it.
"As for Katō Dan—he truly died in the war. That much is absolutely certain."
"…What a wonderful teacher you are."
A slow clap echoed from the shadows, accompanied by a hoarse voice.
The two turned to look.
Orochimaru stepped out from the darkness, golden slit pupils gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
Senju Nawaki had been his student—
a student he had genuinely taught with all his heart.
It was Nawaki's death that had driven him to research immortality.
Orochimaru had always harbored doubts about Nawaki's death. He never expected confirmation to come from his own teacher's mouth.
"Sensei, you've always been adept at using lofty justifications to cover up cowardice," Orochimaru said with a cold laugh, fingers brushing his lips.
"But the truth is like a venomous snake—it always crawls out from the cracks of lies to bite."
"Nawaki… should never have been a political sacrifice."
His eyes turned frigid, slit pupils narrowing.
"You push everything onto Danzō. Others may not know—but I do.
"In major matters, Danzō did act unilaterally and often didn't consult you.
"But tell me—when did you not know where he was?
"He planted his spies in ANBU, but you planted spies in Root as well.
"Even with the Tongue Curse Eradication Seal, you could still learn the truth through the Yamanaka clan's secret techniques.
"You had enough intelligence.
You simply chose silence.
"Nawaki's death was the result of your tacit approval.
"You keep saying it's for Konoha—but the ones truly sacrificed were always the blood of the clans!
"If Nawaki were still alive, he'd be a pillar of the village by now— not an unnamed casualty buried under a single battle report!"
Orochimaru's words dripped like venom, every syllable steeped in icy malice.
Hiruzen's expression darkened instantly, fingers tightening around his pipe.
"Orochimaru… you've gone too far.
"How could you think of me that way?"
"Too far?" Orochimaru chuckled softly.
A pale snake slowly slid from his sleeve, its tongue flicking, reflecting the same cold light as its master's eyes.
"Sensei… you wouldn't seriously think I know nothing, would you?"
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