Deciphering the Code Reveals Desperate Straits, Poison Gas Blockade Countdown

A piercing, buzzing sound echoed incessantly through the narrow corridor, like a death knell.

The fox mask that Mizuki Han had pried off was flickering with a frantic, scarlet light from the communication seal inside, pulsing like a dying heart. Along with the red glow, a cloying, sickly-sweet scent began to seep in silently from the gaps in the ventilation ducts, like an invisible serpent.

No. 3 Neurotoxin!

Han's pupils constricted violently. His knowledge from his past life allowed him to instantly identify what this scent signified. This wasn't some simple anesthetic; it was a lethal concoction capable of destroying a ninja's central nervous system, causing chakra to spiral into chaos and muscles to dissolve within mere minutes!

"Move!"

Without a second of hesitation, Han backhanded the still-buzzing mask deep into the corridor, while his other hand clamped onto Haku's wrist like an iron vice, dragging her as he sprinted in the opposite direction. His movements were swift and precise, devoid of any wasted motion.

Haku was yanked forward by the immense force, stumbling as she tried to keep up. Before she could even ask what was happening, the cloying scent drilled into her nasal cavity, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.

"Hold your breath! Use your chakra to seal your nose and mouth!" Han's low roar exploded in her ears.

Haku instinctively obeyed, drawing upon the faint chakra within her to form a crude, makeshift filter over her airways.

The two of them tore through the labyrinthine underground tunnels like madmen. Behind them, a continuous "hissing" sound filled the air—the sound of the gas being pumped into the pipes at high pressure, spreading at an alarming speed.

Han's lungs felt as if they were being scorched by fire, each breath bringing a sharp, tearing pain. Yet, he forcibly suppressed his body's protests, his brain operating at high speed, cold and detached to the extreme.

Something is wrong!

The concentration and speed of the gas spread far beyond what would be needed to dispose of a body or two. This wasn't a trap meant for just the two of them; it was more like... an indiscriminate, total purge!

The thought sent a chill through his entire body.

He pulled Haku away from the main thoroughfares, weaving through seven turns and eight bends until they dove into a more remote, nearly abandoned rock fissure. Only when the cloying scent was completely blocked off by the complex tunnel structure behind them did he abruptly stop, leaning his back against the cold rock wall and gasping for air.

Sweat trickled down his pale cheeks, dripping onto the ground and leaving small, dark marks.

"Han... brother..." Haku's small face was devoid of color. She looked at Han's pained expression, her eyes filled with worry and fear.

Han waved a hand, signaling that he was fine. He reached into his robes and pulled out his last Soldier Pill, popping it into his mouth without hesitation, then retrieved the encrypted scroll he had seized from the Chunin, which was wrapped in oilcloth.

He had to know immediately what was happening outside!

In the dim light, he slowly unfurled the scroll. It wasn't covered in text, but rather a complex code composed of peculiar symbols, lines, and numbers—a unique cipher system used by the Mist Anbu to transmit top-secret information.

Haku couldn't understand it, so she simply watched Han with nervous intensity.

Mizuki Han's gaze swept over the contents of the scroll like a precision scanner. His brain split into two distinct parts.

One part was the memories of the original Mizuki Han. Fragments regarding the basic logic of the cipher churned in his mind: the spiral symbol represented "sector," the trident symbol meant "squad," and the water droplet symbol was related to "time"... but over seventy percent of the symbols on the scroll were variants that didn't exist in his memories, clearly a higher level of encryption.

The other part was his own logical reasoning from his past life. He ignored the original meanings of the symbols and began to analyze them from a purely mathematical and informational perspective.

"Frequency of occurrence... this 'well' symbol appears twenty-three times throughout the text; it's the highest frequency symbol. In any language system, high-frequency words are usually prepositions, conjunctions, or the most basic subject-verb-object structures..."

"Combinatorial patterns... this 'well' symbol is always followed by numbers. Meanwhile, the 'spiral' symbol is followed by directional arrows..."

His fingers traced lightly over the scroll as he whispered to himself in a language only he could understand.

The original owner's memories provided the "key" to the lock. His past life's logic provided the "method" to turn it.

The two collided, merged, and reorganized at high speed within his mind!

A startling deduction formed in his heart: this wasn't a descriptive document at all, but rather... a program execution table!

"The 'well' symbol isn't 'sector,' it's 'valve'! The numbers are the valve IDs!"

"The 'spiral' symbol isn't a squad code, but 'main pipeline'! The arrows point to the direction of the gas flow!"

"Then, this symbol I've never seen, the one like an hourglass... it's a countdown!"

Mizuki Han's breath hitched. He jerked his head up, staring fixedly at the largest hourglass symbol at the very top of the scroll, marked in blood-red cinnabar.

Next to the symbol, a number was clearly written—"seventy-two."

Not seventy-two days, nor seventy-two minutes. In the Anbu's timing system, this unit represented... hours!

From the moment the purge began, within seventy-two hours, the entire underground Anbu base—from Sector A to Sector F—would have the "No. 3 Neurotoxin" injected into all main pipelines and branch valves in three phases, conducting a thorough, no-blind-spot "ecological cleansing" of the entire underground network!

In other words, this was a death warrant.

Everyone trapped underground, no matter where they hid, had less than three days. After three days, this place would become a literal gas-filled tomb.

At the end of the scroll, a scrawled note added: all surface exits have been physically sealed and taken over by troops directly under Elder Gen; anyone attempting to break through is to be killed on sight!

A desperate situation.

A completely sealed, shrinking cage of death.

"Brother Han, are we..." Haku looked at Han's increasingly grim expression, her voice trembling, "are we... out of places to run?"

"Run?" Mizuki Han slowly raised his head. In those pitch-black pupils, there was no despair, no fear—only a flame burning with extreme coldness.

The corners of his mouth curled into a sinister arc.

"Why would we run?"

He tucked the scroll away and stood up, his gaze piercing through the darkness toward the depths of the intricate tunnels.

"Haku, remember. When everyone thinks a certain path is the way to survive, that path is guaranteed to be a dead end." His voice was low, yet carried an unquestionable certainty. "Right now, every rat in this underground base is surely rushing toward the exits like madmen. Guess what's waiting for them there?"

It was a net cast wide, a slaughterhouse prepared long in advance.

This was the simplest form of psychological warfare.

"We are not running." Mizuki Han's voice was like a Siberian cold front, causing the surrounding air temperature to drop. "We are going to kill our way back."

Haku was completely stunned. She opened her mouth, utterly unable to comprehend the meaning of those words.

Kill their way back?

Outside, the area was swarming with organized Anbu search parties. There were only two of them—one severely wounded, the other a child. How could they possibly fight? Wasn't this just throwing their lives away?

Mizuki Han seemed to see right through her thoughts. He coldly explained, "Right now, they are at their most scattered and chaotic. They are like headless flies, searching this maze for 'rats' like us. Their formations are loose, and their vigilance is constantly dropping. This is our only chance."

"Once we wait until the end, when everyone is forced toward the exit, they will tighten the encirclement and form an absolute numerical advantage. By then, we won't have even the slightest shred of a chance."

A glint of an ambitious warlord flickered in his eyes.

What he intended to do was not to flee.

He intended to completely reverse the roles of hunter and prey within this massive underground labyrinth!

He would take the initiative, utilizing the complex terrain to hunt down those isolated, small search squads. He would trade their lives for the resources and time he needed to survive! He would use their blood to pave a bloody path to freedom!

The plan was insane to the extreme!

"But... there are so many of them..." Haku's voice carried a hint of tears.

"The more there are, the easier they are to kill." Mizuki Han cut her off. He pulled the sharp steel wire he had looted from a corpse out of his pocket and wound it twice around his fingertip.

"We don't need to confront them head-on. We only need to... set a trap they cannot refuse."

His gaze fell upon the jagged, water-logged, and complex terrain surrounding this abandoned limestone cave.

This would become his first hunting ground.

Just then, the distinct sound of footsteps and conversation drifted from around the corner of a nearby passage.

"Team Three, Area C-7 search complete. No targets found."

"Copy that. Moving to Area C-8. Maintain vigilance; those two missing guys were last seen near the C-8 sector."

Mizuki Han's body tensed instantly. He signaled to Haku, and both of them vanished into the shadows behind a massive stalactite.

He licked his cracked lips. Far from being nervous, his eyes betrayed a hint of the excitement a hunter feels when they spot their prey.

The first batch of guests had delivered themselves so quickly.

Facing the incoming organized search squad, how would Han, with his extremely limited resources, overcome the strong with the weak and complete this seemingly impossible reversal?