Load-Bearing Blueprints Breed Malice, Demolishing Foundations Plots Chaos

Firelight danced wildly in the depths of Mizuki Han's eyes, reflecting the cold, precise lines on the Mist Anbu Underground Base: Sector B-7 Core Load-Bearing Structure Map.

It was not merely a blueprint.

It was the skeleton of a giant, skinned and sinewed, laid bare before him.

And he, Mizuki Han, was the butcher holding the blade, preparing to shatter every joint in that giant's body.

The near-maniacal smile curling at the corners of his mouth seemed to drop the temperature of the entire armory by several degrees. The air was no longer filled merely with the cold scent of metal and gunpowder; it now carried a bone-chilling madness that emanated from the depths of his soul.

"Han... brother?"

Haku's voice drifted over from nearby, carrying a hint of cautious trembling. She had already stuffed several large ninja tool pouches to the brim; the Explosive Tags piled at her feet, enough to ignite a small war in the outside world, now looked like cheap, common goods.

She looked up, only to see an expression on Mizuki Han's face she had never witnessed before.

It was not the cold ruthlessness he showed when killing his captors, nor the forbearance he displayed before Kisame, nor the calm calculation he used to outmaneuver Captain Hozuki. It was a blend of two extremes: the excitement of a child who had found the ultimate toy, and the absolute indifference of a monarch looking down upon his own chessboard.

Mizuki Han did not respond to her.

His entire being was immersed in that massive map.

Escape?

That word had never been among his optimal options from the very beginning.

The encrypted scroll he had deciphered had already signed the death warrant for all conventional routes. The exits were sealed by Elder Gen's direct subordinates, and poison gas would flood every corner within seventy-two hours. This was a meticulously planned, silent encirclement; the Mist high command wanted all the "trash" underground to rot away quietly and unknown.

They wanted decorum.

They wanted silence.

But Mizuki Han was determined to give them the grandest, loudest, and most tragic funeral imaginable!

He would make every tremor of this land a stinging slap across the faces of the Mist high command! He would make the soaring flames the only salute to announce his return from hell!

His fingers, pale and slender like sculptures of ice, traced slowly over the highlighted structures on the map.

"The B-3 load-bearing column cluster supports the surface Anbu main office building and the intelligence center..."

"The C-5 load-bearing column is directly beneath the Anbu interrogation department and the prison..."

"The F-9 composite load-bearing structure carries the base's central energy hub. Once destroyed, the backup power will last ten minutes at most..."

His voice was soft, as if he were talking to himself, or perhaps calling out the names of the condemned for the coming destruction.

Each name represented a building on the surface, representing the lives of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Mist ninja.

Haku could not understand the complex structural terminology, but she understood words like "office building," "prison," and "energy hub." Her small face turned deathly pale, and her lips lost all color from fear.

She finally understood what Mizuki Han intended to do.

This person... he wasn't trying to blast a path to safety.

He was going to... blow up the entire world.

This realization hit her like a bone-chilling current, pouring from the crown of her head down to her soles. Looking at the back of the boy crouching on the ground, obsessively studying the blueprints, she felt for the first time that the person she followed might not be a man at all.

He was a monster in human skin, crawled up from the abyss.

Mizuki Han was oblivious to this, and he did not care.

His brain was racing at an unprecedented speed.

Simply blowing up the load-bearing columns would have limited effect and could easily be reinforced by Earth Style users. What he needed was an irreversible, chain-reaction structural collapse.

He rummaged through the metal cabinet and pulled out several other blueprints.

Sewage Pipeline Distribution Map, Ventilation System Layout Map, Chakra Circuit Layout Map...

He laid the sheets side-by-side on the floor. The engineering, physics, and logic knowledge from his past life, long since grown rusty, were squeezed out by his survival instinct. Like sediment stirred from the depths, they began to merge in a bizarre fashion with the ninjutsu system of this world.

His gaze darted rapidly between the maps, and in his mind, a vast and precise demolition model was taking shape.

First, use the sewage pipes to deliver the "Underwater Specialized Type" Explosive Tags to the deepest foundations of the load-bearing columns. The shockwave from an underwater explosion had greater penetrating power and could dismantle the structure from within.

Then, deploy "Delayed Trigger Type" Explosive Tags at key nodes in the ventilation ducts. Detonate them the moment the main structure collapsed, using the pressure differential to force poison gas and flames into the sealed shelters for a secondary sweep.

Finally, the most critical step: concentrate the largest, most terrifying "High-Explosive Improved Type" Explosive Tags on the F-9 composite load-bearing structure that supported the energy hub!

He did not want a simple collapse; he wanted an irreversible vertical plunge driven by gravity itself!

He would make the Anbu main office, the intelligence center, the interrogation prison, the ninja barracks... everything lose its support in an instant, like a castle of blocks with its base pulled out, falling neatly and vertically into the earth!

This would be an unprecedented "live burial"!

Faced with this plan, everyone's life was merely a cold number, a parameter used to measure the effectiveness of the blast.

The Anbu patrolling on the surface, the ninja resting, even the bloodline limit users still locked in other cells... on Mizuki Han's chessboard, there was no difference between them.

They were all pawns.

They were all background props and sacrifices for this grand performance.

"In this game, there are only two roles: the one who sets the rules, and the pawn crushed by them."

A flame called "control" flickered in Mizuki Han's eyes.

He loathed the feeling of his fate being manipulated by others.

Therefore, he would become the only one who set the rules!

"Is it packed?"

He finally lifted his head from the blueprints and looked at Haku.

"It... it is packed." Swept by his icy gaze, Haku shuddered and hurriedly sealed the last giant scroll filled with Explosive Tags.

Mizuki Han stood up, carefully rolled up the crucial blueprints, and tucked them away close to his body.

He walked over to the mountain of "spoils" and casually picked up the heaviest scroll.

The heavy sensation, and the terrifying energy contained within—enough to raze a mountain peak to the ground—finally allowed his heart, constantly suspended by his "fear of insufficient firepower," to settle back into place.

A sense of security was never something granted by others.

It was bestowed by the power to destroy everything, held firmly in one's own hands.

He glanced at the water clock on the wall; less than sixty hours remained until the poison gas was injected.

Time was running out.

He strapped the heavy scroll to his back and picked up two specially crafted black steel short blades, crossing them into the scabbards on his back.

A brand-new Anbu combat uniform, cold weapons, and terrifying firepower capable of leveling everything.

He finally had a bit of capital to challenge this world.

"Follow me."

Mizuki Han did not say another word, turning to walk toward the blown-open door of the Armory.

Outside the door lay a deep, winding underground labyrinth, resembling the intestines of a giant beast.

There, Anbu squads were searching for them, unknown dangers lurked, and the countdown to death was relentlessly approaching.

Yet, Mizuki Han's footsteps did not falter in the slightest.

His figure was elongated by the firelight behind him, casting a massive, distorted shadow at the entrance of the labyrinth, like an ancient demon god about to step onto the battlefield.

Haku hurriedly shouldered two smaller scrolls and stumbled after him.

Watching the back in front of her—not particularly tall, yet radiating a suffocating sense of oppression—a thought uncontrollably emerged from the depths of her heart.

In this underground labyrinth as vast as an anthill, could they truly evade all the search parties and successfully plant these "offerings" capable of destroying everything at those lethal nodes?