Pushing Aside the Burden, Fighting Alone; Water Clone Tests the Depths

Time, at this moment, was stretched like a string pulled to its absolute limit.

The Mist Anbu squad leader, a Jonin-level powerhouse, stood there in silence like a mountain rising from the depths of hell. His very existence was enough to crush every shred of hope and every tactical scheme within this space.

Fear?

No, that word did not exist in Mizuki Han's dictionary.

His body was sounding alarms he couldn't control; his muscle fibers twitched from extreme tension, and his blood flow seemed to slow to a crawl. Yet, this was not fear, but the most primal stress response of a living creature when faced with the suppression of absolute power. Under this pressure, his brain instead began to operate at an unprecedented, extreme level.

Run?

Impossible. The fact that the opponent had silently breached the layers of his Ice Thread Perimeter Net meant that he was being completely overwhelmed in both speed and perception. Any attempt to turn and flee would be a fatal opening, inviting a thunderous strike.

Fight?

The odds of victory were infinitely close to zero. He had only just raised his chakra to the Chunin level, while the man before him was a Jonin who had spent years immersed in the path of slaughter—a true backbone of the Mist Anbu. Every Jonin had the blood of hundreds of ninjas on their hands; they were living encyclopedias of death.

What to do?

Every analysis, calculation, and deduction was completed in 0.01 seconds. Mizuki Han's gaze shifted from the hawk-like, sharp eyes of the Jonin to Haku, who stood beside him, frozen stiff and pale with terror from the horrific aura.

Dead weight.

A cold, ruthless term surfaced from the deepest part of his heart.

In a battle of this caliber, Haku's presence was not an asset or a variable, but his sole and most lethal liability. She would become a hostage, a shackle on his movements, and the most unstable "negative factor" in all his tactical gambits.

Therefore, before the battle began, this "negative factor" had to be completely removed from the chessboard.

"Don't move."

Mizuki Han's voice was so low it was almost inaudible, yet it reached Haku's ears with perfect clarity.

Haku shuddered, looking at him in a daze.

The next second, Mizuki Han moved.

His action came without the slightest warning. Instead of lunging at the enemy, he pivoted sharply, slamming his shoulder into Haku with brutal force!

"Bang!"

A dull thud echoed.

Haku's small, thin body was sent flying like a discarded ragdoll by the immense impact. She let out a short gasp, her body tracing an arc through the air as she flew precisely toward a narrow maintenance tunnel entrance to the side and rear, barely wide enough for one person.

Mizuki Han had used a calculated burst of strength, showing no mercy. Haku felt as if her internal organs had been displaced, the searing pain nearly causing her to black out. The last thing she saw as she tumbled into the darkness of the tunnel was Mizuki Han's profile, cold to the extreme, and eyes that held no apology and no warmth.

He wasn't saving her.

He was simply... discarding an inconvenient piece of luggage.

"Stay hidden. If you dare come out, I'll kill you first."

The icy words were the last thing she heard before falling into the darkness.

Having done this, Mizuki Han didn't even look back. He slowly straightened up, his aura undergoing a subtle change. If he had previously carried the hesitation of someone burdened by "dead weight," he was now a blade fully unsheathed, a weapon committed to a desperate, all-or-nothing strike.

He stood alone, calm, facing the mountain of despair known as a "Jonin."

The Anbu squad leader opposite him had not moved from the start. He watched Mizuki Han's "housecleaning" with interest, a flicker of imperceptible approval in his eyes, as if he were admiring a promising wolf cub displaying its innate ruthlessness.

"Interesting. Being more ruthless to your own than to your enemy—you're a natural for our line of work." The Jonin finally spoke, his voice raspy, like two rocks grinding together. "Pity, you chose the wrong path."

Mizuki Han did not respond.

He was using this precious time during the dialogue to frantically circulate the chakra within his body.

His Chunin-level chakra reserves surged through his meridians. Following the "Three-Part Chakra Principle" etched into his soul, he had to make the most rigorous allocation.

Thirty percent remained as his trump card for escape, sinking deep into his dantian, ready to handle the worst-case scenario—such as using Ice Release to seal his wounds or create an escape route the moment he was critically injured.

Forty percent served as his capital for a lethal strike, highly condensed and ready to erupt. This was the core power he would use to find an opening and land a fatal counterattack.

The remaining thirty percent was his "conventional weapon," available for probing and maneuvering.

"You destroyed the Armory, killed Captain Hozuki, and even intended to blow up the entire base." The Jonin's tone was flat, as if he were stating a trivial matter. "Elder Gen is not pleased. He sent me to bury you, and your plans, right here."

Mizuki Han's pupils contracted slightly.

The enemy knew his plan!

This meant that from the moment he stepped into the Armory, all his actions might have been under the surveillance of higher-ups. Captain Hozuki was perhaps merely a pawn pushed forward to test his strength.

"It seems it's a fight to the death today, then." Mizuki Han finally spoke, his voice equally cold. The Black Steel Short Blade slid into his hand; he gripped it in a reverse hold, the tip pointing diagonally at the ground, assuming a standard assassination stance.

"You don't have the qualifications to negotiate with me." The Jonin shook his head, a cruel, cat-and-mouse expression on his face. "However, I can give you a chance. Use all your skills; if you can make me move a single step, I'll grant you a quick death."

This was ultimate contempt.

And the most naked form of humiliation.

Mizuki Han's face remained devoid of expression. Anger would only cause blood to rush to his head and cloud his judgment. What he needed was absolute, icy rationality.

His gaze swept over the dry ground beneath the Jonin's feet, the complex metal structures around them, and the water seeping from the cracks in the rock wall.

Too little intelligence.

The opponent's nature, favored ninjutsu, and combat style—everything was an unknown.

Under these circumstances, rashly using that forty percent of his lethal chakra was no different from a gamble with abysmal odds.

He could not afford to lose.

Therefore, he had to probe. He needed to exchange the smallest possible cost for the most valuable intelligence.

Mizuki Han's left hand quietly formed two seals.

Boar, Dog.

These were the basic starting seals for the Water Clone technique.

He took half of the thirty percent of chakra he had allocated for probing and mobilized it in an instant.

Splash—

Not far from his feet, a puddle of water he had drawn earlier to set up an Explosive Tag suddenly surged violently. A figure, identical to Mizuki Han, slowly rose from the water.

The facial features, height, clothing, and even the Black Steel Short Blade held in a reverse grip were exactly the same.

A textbook Water Clone.

"Oh? Starting off with a clone technique?" The playful smile on the jonin's face deepened. "You want to use such childish tricks to test my depth? Little brat of the Mizuki Clan, your capacity is limited to just this, then."

Before the words had even faded.

Mizuki Han's true body and the Water Clone moved!

It was not the clone charging alone; the true body and the clone launched a surprise attack simultaneously from two completely different directions!

The Water Clone charged head-on in the most direct and ferocious manner, lunging straight for the jonin's face. The short blade in its hand traced a sharp arc, aiming directly at the opponent's throat.

Meanwhile, Mizuki Han's true body pushed off the ground, his frame hugging the floor like a sliding shadow. He moved at high speed along the complex metal structures, maneuvering to circle around to the jonin's side and rear!

A feint?

No, this was dual pressure!

Using the clone to draw attention to the front, forcing the opponent to block or dodge and thereby reveal an opening, only for the true body to launch a lethal strike from a blind spot! This was one of the most classic and efficient tactics in the art of assassination.

Facing this sudden, murderous pincer attack, the expression on the Anbu squad leader's face did not change in the slightest.

He did not even move his feet a single inch.

He simply watched the fiercely aggressive Water Clone lunging from the front, as if watching a moth that didn't know its own strength throwing itself into a raging fire that could incinerate everything.

His hands slowly rose, forming an incredibly archaic and strange seal that Mizuki Han had never seen in any of his memories.

How would that jonin respond to Han's probe?