Elite Chunin Secure the Core, Twelve Traps Set a Killing Game

A piercing alarm, like countless red-hot steel needles, frantically stabbed into every nerve ending of the underground base.

It was a shriek that could make the soul tremble, mixed with the ear-splitting hum of overloaded chakra circuits after the seal was forcibly broken.

"Boom—!"

The explosion of the granite foundation became the heaviest drumbeat in this symphony of death.

Outside the corridor, the two elite Chunin, like sculptures, their pale masks seemed to come alive at this moment, contorting into expressions of extreme shock and fury. Their bodies reacted faster than their brains; violent chakra erupted from beneath their feet like a volcanic eruption, instantly turning them into two blurry afterimages, charging madly towards the steel giant door that had been pried open!

Chaos was the best cover.

The instant the two lost their composure in their rage, their attention completely drawn to the damaged giant door, a deeper shadow silently slithered out from the drainage ditch in the corner of the corridor.

Mizuki Han's movements stirred no wind, splashed no water. He was like a ghost born of the darkness and filth, using the gust of wind kicked up by the two Chunin's charge as cover. In a bizarre posture, almost gliding along the ground, he slipped through the heavy steel giant door just before it could completely close.

Almost the second he entered, from the darkness behind the door, those two scarlet eyes blazed with light!

A chakra fluctuation, far more condensed and colder than that of the two Chunin outside, like an invisible giant wave from the deep sea, crashed out!

"Intruders, die!"

A hoarse, low voice, like the grinding of metal, echoed from the depths of the darkness.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two dull thuds. The two elite Chunin who had just reached the door were repelled several steps by this pure chakra wave, as if they had hit an invisible wall!

"Captain Hozuki!" one of the Chunin steadied himself, kneeling on one knee towards the darkness within the door, his voice filled with fear and shame.

The door did not close.

The bottomless darkness slowly receded.

Mizuki Han held his breath, shrinking his entire body into the shadow cast by a row of huge weapon racks, revealing only one eye, staring intently at the scene behind the door.

This was the outer area of the armory, a large circular buffer room. The dome was high, with rows of standard steel weapon racks neatly arranged, hung with Kunai, shuriken, standard short swords. The air was filled with the cold smell of mixed oil and metal.

And in the center of the buffer room, a man sat cross-legged on a stone seat made of black basalt.

He also wore the Mist Anbu uniform, but without a mask, revealing a face covered in small scars, weathered by time. He was about thirty-five or thirty-six years old, his eyes closed, but in the center of his brow was inlaid a ruby the size of a pigeon's egg, emitting a scarlet glow.

Those eyes, not belonging to a human, originated from this gem!

He was the "Captain Hozuki" mentioned by the two elite Chunin, the guardian of the armory's core area. A genuine elite Chunin! And one of the very top tier among elite Chunin!

"The seal foundation was cracked from the inside by physical means, a technique... unheard of." Captain Hozuki did not open his eyes, the red gem on his brow flickered, as if he had seen through everything that had just happened. "The intruder is very smart, knowing how to exploit loopholes in the rules. He is here now."

His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone present, and also reached Mizuki Han's ears.

Mizuki Han's heart clenched violently.

Discovered! No, not pinpointed, but the opponent had confirmed, through intelligence analysis, that he was in this area!

What a terrifying opponent! Calm, rational, possessing strong intelligence analysis capabilities, and absolute confidence in the area he guarded.

The two kneeling Chunin heard this, immediately stood up, back to back, their ninja swords drawn, and vigilantly scanned every shadow around them.

"No need." Captain Hozuki stopped them. "He is cautious and will not show himself without absolute certainty. You two, go seal off the outer passages. From now on, not even a fly is allowed in. Leave this to me."

"Yes!" The two Chunin dared not disobey in the slightest, immediately accepted the order, turned, and retreated from the buffer room, returning to guard outside the damaged door.

The entire huge buffer room was instantly left with only Mizuki Han and the cross-legged Captain Hozuki.

And that scarlet gem, flashing in the darkness like a demon's eye.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Captain Hozuki did not move, he remained seated cross-legged, like a stone sculpture. But the aura emanating from him was like an invisible net, covering the entire space. Any slight abnormal chakra fluctuation, any extra sound, would immediately draw his thunderous strike.

He was waiting.

Waiting for the intruder, who thought himself clever, to reveal himself.

Mizuki Han also did not move. He was like a real stone, blending into the shadow of the weapon rack. His heartbeat was forcibly suppressed to the lowest level, his blood flow slowed, and even his breathing became almost imperceptible.

His brain, however, was running at an unprecedented speed.

Force his way in? The opponent was an elite Chunin with some kind of powerful sensory ability. In a head-on confrontation, he wouldn't even have a ten percent chance of winning.

Assassinate? The opponent sat firmly in the center, unmoving, giving him no chance to get close.

This was a dead end. A dead end more unsolvable than facing the two guards.

Mizuki Han's pathological "paranoia" was screaming alarms, his soul was screaming, urging him to flee this place immediately.

However, his extreme rationality firmly suppressed this instinctive impulse.

Escape? Where to escape? The seventy-hour death countdown still hung over his head. This was his only hope.

If he couldn't win by force, he had to win by wit.

Mizuki Han's gaze slowly swept across the entire buffer room. The terrain here was much more complex than the outside corridor. Rows of weapon racks formed natural visual obstacles. The ceiling was covered with intricate ventilation ducts and load-bearing beams. The ground, due to the constant low temperature, was covered with a thin layer of frost.

These were all elements that could be utilized.

A bold, meticulous plan, filled with cold calculation, was drawn in his mind, stroke by stroke, like the most precise architectural blueprint.

What he had to do was not to find the enemy's flaw.

Instead, he would personally create a stage of death for his enemies, one riddled with fatal flaws!

He slowly reached his uninjured right hand into a drainage trench beneath him.

The cold water, carrying a faint, metallic tang, submerged his fingertips.

The performance had begun.

The next three hours were, for Mizuki Han, a long and agonizing dance performed on the edge of a blade.

Like a master watchmaker, he held his breath, pouring every ounce of his focus into the micro-manipulation of his chakra.

The first hour.

Controlling streams of water thinner than a strand of hair, he silently wove a massive, nearly invisible web across the floor of the buffer zone. This web connected the base of every weapon rack and reached into the shadows of every corner. Then, he infused it with the nature transformation of Ice Release, instantly freezing the water into nearly transparent threads of ice.

This was his tripwire, the central nervous system of his trap.

The second hour.

He began to set his killing blows. He silently retrieved dozens of the most common, nondescript shuriken from the weapon racks. He then used the ice threads to secure these shuriken within the blind spots of the ceiling pipes and beams, blades pointing downward. The end of every shuriken was connected to the main web of ice threads on the floor.

Next, he used his chakra to condense a layer of extremely thin, non-reflective, yet incredibly slick ice over several key pathways, cleverly camouflaging them with dust. This was designed to shatter the balance of any enemy moving at high speed.

The third hour.

He began to set his decoys. Using Ice Release, he created several ice mirrors at sharp, calculated angles in remote corners. These mirrors could refract distant light to create blurred, fleeting afterimages at specific angles, while also subtly reflecting sound to create false sources of noise.

Twelve traps.

One linked to the next, each ring interlocking with the last.

From the floor to the air, from sight to sound, from physical constraints to psychological misdirection, he had constructed a complete and lethal chain of death.

As he carefully connected the final ice thread to the base of the weapon rack where he was hiding, Mizuki Han slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

His forehead was drenched in cold sweat, and his face appeared even paler from the excessive consumption of chakra.

Yet, his eyes shone with an astonishing intensity.

It was the gaze of a hunter, one who held everything in his grasp.

Three hours had passed.

On the central stone throne, the Hozuki captain remained motionless, as if he had fallen asleep.

However, the crimson gem between his brows pulsed with a cold, rhythmic light, proving that he had never once let his guard down.

He was an experienced, patient old hunter.

Mizuki Han watched him, a cold curve touching the corner of his lips.

He knew that against an old fox like this, conventional bait would be useless.

He had to give him a reason he could neither refuse nor ignore, one that would force him to rise from that perfectly secure stone throne.

The traps were set, the killing field prepared.

How would this experienced Chunin be lured, step by step, into this web woven of ice and death?