Infiltrate the Void Against the Current, Watch the Bloody Night with Cold Eyes

The Anbu captain's declaration, heavy with murderous intent, struck the chaotic streets like a frozen icicle, instantly silencing the boiling roar of the crowd.

Bloodline Detection Barrier!

These five words were sharper than any blade, instantly severing the sliver of hope that had just begun to sprout in Mizuki Han's heart.

He had personally orchestrated this earth-shattering destruction to liberate himself from that physical cage. Yet, the enemy's reaction speed far exceeded his expectations; in the blink of an eye, they had deployed an invisible, intangible, yet infinitely more lethal net that blanketed the entire village.

After a brief moment of stagnation, the crowd erupted into even more desperate panic. The driven civilians were like a frightened flock of sheep, helplessly surging toward the Central Plaza, where unpredictable screening and judgment awaited them.

Mizuki Han's heart, however, grew calm at this moment. Extreme danger often triggered the deepest, almost pathological, level of composure within him. His brain, like a high-precision computer, frantically analyzed the dead end before him.

Follow the crowd? That would be no different than walking into a trap. He and Haku, two pure-blooded possessors of the Yuki Clan's kekkei genkai, would be like two bonfires in the night before a barrier specifically designed to detect bloodlines; they had nowhere to hide.

He had to leave this "mainstream."

"Hold on to me." He lowered his head, whispering a brief command to Haku, who was trembling in his arms from terror, in a voice only the two of them could hear.

His hand remained icy, yet it clamped onto Haku's thin wrist like an iron vice.

Just then, the wooden beams of a nearby burning shop finally buckled under the scorching heat, emitting a piercing crack before collapsing with a thunderous roar!

"BOOM--!"

The massive noise and the incoming wave of heat caused the already terrified crowd to lose all control. Screams and cries mingled together as people instinctively fled in the opposite direction of the collapse, forming a chaotic, clashing tide of humanity.

An opportunity!

A sharp glint flashed in Mizuki Han's eyes. Instead of resisting the push of the crowd, he went with the flow, pulling Haku along and feigning a loss of balance as if bumped, stumbling toward the side and rear. His severed left arm, hidden by his wide clothing, served as the perfect disguise, making his "weak and powerless" image appear incredibly authentic.

"Thump!"

He fell "clumsily" to the ground, using the momentum to shield Haku beneath him. The fleeing civilians had no time to watch their footing; countless feet trampled past them, splashing dirty sewage. Under the cover of this chaos, Mizuki Han moved like a loach, dragging Haku beneath the feet of the crowd and silently rolling into a narrow, shadow-shrouded alleyway nearby.

No one noticed them. In the face of an apocalyptic disaster, everyone was concerned only with their own survival.

Not until the noisy clamor of voices and footsteps faded into the distance did Mizuki Han slowly climb to his feet. The wounds on his body throbbed with intense pain from the tumble, but he merely brushed the filth from his clothes with an expressionless face.

"Move."

He pulled up the still-shaken Haku and stepped out of the alley.

Before them lay a scene entirely different from the area they had just left.

This was a main thoroughfare leading to the edge of the village. The once-bustling street now appeared abnormally empty and deathly silent. The vast majority of the Anbu forces had been dispatched to the epicenter of the explosion for rescue and containment, while the bulk of the garrison was busy driving civilians toward the mass screening.

Here, it had become a "vacuum zone" with the weakest defensive presence in the entire Village of the Bloody Mist.

Darkness under the lamp.

It was the simplest, yet most easily overlooked psychological blind spot.

Mizuki Han led Haku, walking brazenly down the center of the empty street. He did not hug the shadows of the walls, as that would only appear suspicious. He simply maintained the guise of a "refugee brother" limping from his injuries, leading a "little sister" who had been frightened out of her wits, walking numbly and aimlessly.

This posture, in turn, allowed them to blend perfectly into the apocalyptic scene around them.

The soaring flames illuminated the thick blood-mist, making it look like a churning sea of blood. The air was filled with the acrid stench of burning wood, mingled with an unmistakable, nauseating scent of gore.

Mizuki Han's pace was not fast. His gaze appeared unfocused, but in reality, it was like the sharpest radar, rapidly scanning every detail of his surroundings.

He saw a squad of Anbu ninja brutally kick open the door of a civilian home; immediately after, the shrill screams of a woman and the terrified wails of a child echoed out, only to be cut short in an instant.

He saw two figures locked in a life-or-death struggle on a nearby rooftop. One of them unleashed a unique ninjutsu, his body liquefying to evade attacks—the kekkei genkai of the Hozuki Clan. But soon, he was pinned to the wall by several Anbu working in perfect coordination, their blades coated in lightning-style chakra, electrocuting him into a charred husk in an instant.

He also saw a man covered in bone spurs, looking like a mad demon, charge out of a completely destroyed dojo—a survivor of the Kaguya Clan. He laughed wildly, tearing two Anbu ninja apart with his bare hands, but in the next second, he was blown into a spray of flesh and blood by kunai embedded with Explosive Tags fired from all directions.

A massacre.

A cold, efficient... Great Purge targeting all kekkei genkai clans.

This was the night of the Village of the Bloody Mist. Cruel, bloody, and devoid of any reason.

There was no expression on Mizuki Han's face. No sympathy, no anger, not even the slightest ripple of emotion. He was merely a cold-eyed passerby, observing this grand ceremony of death with a gaze that was almost surgical.

He was analyzing. Analyzing the standard composition of the Anbu squads, their attack patterns, and the various abilities the kekkei genkai users unleashed before their deaths.

These were intelligence. They were the capital required to survive in this cruel world.

Beside him, Haku was already stiff with fear. Her small hand was ice-cold, clutching the corner of Mizuki Han's clothes, her teeth chattering. She dared not look at the bloody scenes, burying her face in Mizuki Han's back as if that could shield her from all the terror of the outside world.

Mizuki Han could feel her trembling, but he offered no words of comfort.

Fear was the privilege of the weak. And he would not allow his "possession" to be a mere weakling.

They crossed the street adorned with death and reached a crossroads. Once they passed this point and walked two more streets, they would reach the outskirts of the village—the most chaotic slum. It was a place where all sorts of people gathered, a natural hideout.

However, the moment they were about to step into the intersection, Mizuki Han's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

His pupils contracted slightly under the reflection of the scarlet flames.

The road ahead was blocked.

Not by the ruins of a building, nor by an Anbu cordon.

But by an execution currently in progress, right before their eyes.

In the center of the crossroads, a girl who looked to be only fifteen or sixteen years old was leaning against a toppled stone lantern, gasping in despair. She had rare, flame-like red hair and wore the ninja attire of Sunagakure; she was clearly not from the Village of the Bloody Mist. Surrounding her, four ninja wearing Mist Anbu masks had her tightly encircled in a fan formation.

Pakura of the Scorch Release... The name and the intelligence associated with it flashed through Mizuki Han's mind in an instant.

The hero of Sunagakure, having achieved merits so great they threatened her superiors, was betrayed by her own village. She was lured to the Mist Village under the guise of a "peace mission," which was, in reality, a pre-arranged assassination.

So, it is tonight?

"Give it up, woman of Sunagakure." The lead Anbu ninja's voice was hoarse, carrying the cruelty of a cat playing with a mouse. "Your comrades have already sold you out; you cannot escape."

Pakura's chest heaved violently. Her beautiful face was etched with resentment and fury, a trace of blood staining the corner of her mouth. She glared fixedly at the Anbu, the flames of hatred burning in her eyes. "Despicable Mist... and those damned elders..."

"Enough talk, send her on her way!" Another Anbu, clearly lacking patience, quickly formed hand seals. "Water Style: Water Wild Wave!"

A surging torrent of water erupted from his mouth, sweeping toward the besieged Pakura like a wild python!

This sudden, bloody scene unfolding right before her eyes caused Haku, who had been burying her head behind Mizuki Han, to instinctively look up.

She saw the surging water technique, saw the flames of despair and hatred mixed in Pakura's eyes, and saw the cold killing intent leaking from beneath the masks of those Anbu ninjas.

How similar this scene was to the memories of the slaughter of her own clan!

An uncontrollable fear and grief, stemming from the depths of her bloodline, rushed into her mind in an instant.

"No..."

A faint, tearful syllable spilled uncontrollably from her throat.

In this night filled with battle cries and roaring sounds, this sound should have been insignificant.

But at this moment, it was like a pebble cast into a silent lake.

The Anbu ninja currently performing the technique paused abruptly.

The four Anbu in the encirclement turned their heads in unison toward the direction of the sound—the corner of the street where Mizuki Han and Haku were hidden in the shadows!

Four cold, murderous gazes locked onto them instantly like sharp blades!

Exposed!

All because of one uncontrollable syllable!

Haku's body went completely rigid the moment those four gazes locked onto her. She finally realized what she had done, and endless fear and regret, like a cold tide, completely submerged her.

However, just as she was about to let out a louder scream from terror, a cold hand, stained with dust and blood, reached out from behind her without warning. It covered her eyes gently, yet with unwavering firmness, stifling the scream that was about to escape her lips.