Poison Gas Spreads into a Dead End, Trigger Pulled Without Hesitation

The pale yellow mist, carrying a cloying scent like rotting nectar, did not drift; instead, it clung to the cold metal floor like a liquid with actual weight, flowing forward slowly and inexorably.

Wherever it passed, the moss growing stubbornly in the corners and crevices withered and carbonized instantly, and the thick, damp stench in the air was replaced by a more aggressive, nauseating sweetness.

This was the scent of death.

Haku's pupils contracted to the limit as she saw the encroaching yellow mist. Her small face drained of all color, turning even paler than the ice crystals on Mizuki Han's severed arm.

Fear, like countless cold steel needles, pierced from the soles of her feet straight into her brain. She held Mizuki Han up with all her might, her arms wrapped around his waist trembling violently from the effort, her teeth chattering audibly.

The escape hatch was less than a hundred meters ahead.

But now, those hundred meters had been completely transformed into a dead end leading to the underworld by this silent, toxic fog.

A dead end in front, no retreat behind.

They had been driven into a true corner.

"Han... Brother Han..." Haku's voice was choked with sobs, filled with undisguisable despair. "The... the poison gas..."

Mizuki Han did not answer.

His gaze was terrifyingly calm; those pitch-black eyes were like two bottomless, frigid abysses, clearly reflecting the pale yellow hue of the encroaching end.

Excruciating pain, weakness, dying...

These words were merely cold data streams in his mind, not emotions capable of shaking his will.

A calculator does not stop functioning because its casing is damaged.

His brain was still analyzing frantically at a speed far beyond that of an ordinary person.

Poison gas spread rate: 0.5 meters per second.

Time to reach current position: approximately 90 seconds.

Lethal time after human inhalation: based on the rate at which it corroded the moss, no more than 3 seconds.

And they were still fifty meters away from that only safe point. In their current state, even without the poison gas, it would take at least two minutes to cover that distance.

Every path to survival had been calculated and sealed off.

The person who designed this Great Purge had clearly taken everything into account. He wanted not only to kill all the "rats" underground in the most brutal way possible but also to enjoy their pathetic, helpless struggles once they were driven into a corner.

Unfortunately, he had chosen the wrong audience.

Mizuki Han never performed in scripts written by others.

He was his own director.

"Be quiet."

He finally spoke, his voice as raspy as two pieces of rusted metal rubbing together, yet carrying an absolute calmness capable of piercing through all panic.

These three words acted like an invisible barrier, instantly strangling the scream about to erupt from Haku's throat. She looked at Mizuki Han's blood-stained yet cold profile, and her heart, gripped by fear, miraculously found a sliver of peace.

It was as if, as long as this person was still here, the sky could not fall.

Mizuki Han slowly raised his intact right hand, which was tightly gripping the detonator remote.

His movements were slow—so slow that Haku could see every subtle shift.

His arm trembled from exhaustion, but his fingers, especially the thumb poised to press the button of destruction, were as steady as a block of eternal, unmelted black ice.

Not a tremor, not a ripple of emotion.

His gaze swept calmly over the poison gas that had spread to within fifty meters, then he looked down at the small, blood-red flickering LED on the remote.

That light, like the eye of a devil, was issuing the most insane invitation to him in the darkness.

Destroy everything completely.

Bury this steel cage that imprisoned him, judged him, and tried to erase him, along with all the high-and-mighty rule-makers inside!

Since you will not give me a way to live.

Then I will make sure no one has a way out!

This was Mizuki Han's logic.

A pure, cold, and utterly insane warlord's logic, devoid of morality or sentiment.

He looked at the red button, and the corners of his mouth curled into an extremely subtle, icy arc.

It was not a smile; it was the calm of someone who had found the optimal solution, bordering on satisfaction.

Then, with a composure that bordered on blasphemy, his thumb pressed down.

"Click."

A faint, almost negligible mechanical click rang out clearly in the underground passage shrouded in poison gas and despair.

Haku's heart skipped a beat in that instant.

She watched, wide-eyed, as Mizuki Han's thumb pressed the red button all the way down without a moment's hesitation.

Time seemed to have been hit with a pause button.

On the detonator remote, the red LED that had been flickering rhythmically stopped instantly, replaced by a constant, eerily deep crimson glow.

There was no earth-shattering roar as imagined.

There was no violent shaking to rock the foundations of the earth.

The world fell into a strange, suffocating silence.

Only that pale yellow mist continued its steady, relentless advance, now less than thirty meters away from them.

Had it failed?

An absurd thought flashed through Haku's mind.

However, the next second.

"Hum—"

It was not a sound.

It was a vibration.

A low, heart-stopping resonance transmitted from the depths of the earth, from the very skeleton of this steel fortress!

The metal walls on both sides of the corridor began to groan under the unbearable strain. Overhead, dust that had accumulated for who knows how many years drifted down like falling snow.

Immediately after, the first explosion echoed from deep underground, far in the distance.

"Thud..."

The sound was muffled and remote, as if someone were striking a thick, leather-covered drum deep within the earth with a giant hammer.

Then, a second, a third...

"Thud... thud-thud..."

The explosions moved from far to near, growing denser and clearer! It was like an ancient, sleeping beast awakening from the depths; every beat of its violent heart made the entire underground base tremble!

Sector B-3, load-bearing pillar!

Sector C-5, interrogation department!

Sector A-1, the foundation of the Anbu main building!

One after another, the demolition nodes precisely calculated by Mizuki Han began to detonate in a chain reaction, like a string of firecrackers ignited in a preset sequence!

"BOOM—!!!"

The first truly deafening explosion erupted not far beneath their feet!

A visible, terrifying blast of air, mixed with gravel and smoke, surged back from the corner of the corridor!

Mizuki Han instinctively shielded Haku, using his own broken body to withstand the brunt of the first shockwave!

"RUMBLE—!!!"

The symphony of destruction finally played its most violent movement!

The ground beneath their feet arched upward like a sea hit by a magnitude-ten earthquake, then collapsed downward with a brutal force!

Haku let out a short cry of alarm, losing her balance entirely.

Mizuki Han held her tightly, letting his back slam heavily against the metal wall, which was twisting from the violent deformation. A heart-wrenching pain flared from his severed arm, causing his vision to blacken once more.

Overhead, the sturdy alloy ceiling developed hideous cracks amidst the hair-raising sound of twisting metal!

Countless pipes and wires burst open like veins and nerves torn apart by a giant, spraying blinding electric sparks and high-pressure steam!

The entire world, at this moment, began a frantic, irreversible... collapse!

Amidst the earth-shattering destruction triggered by the chain explosions, this underground fortress—the symbol of the Mist Village's darkness and order—was being torn apart and pulverized inch by inch from its very foundations by the most primal violence from within!

In the center of the ruins about to be swallowed, Mizuki Han looked up. Through the falling rubble and smoke, his gaze seemed to pierce through hundreds of meters of rock, catching a glimpse of that blood-red night sky belonging to the Mist Village.

What kind of earth-shattering destruction would this grand firework, ignited by his own hands to bury everything, cause? And what kind of magnificent expressions would those high-and-mighty rulers wear?