Ignoring the Massacre, Hiding His White Eyes; Extreme Self-Interest Reveals His True Nature

Four killing intents, almost tangible, pierced the thick blood mist and shadows at the street corner, pinning Mizuki Han in place.

The temperature in the narrow corner plummeted. It was the cold scrutiny of high-ranking ninja, who regarded life as utterly worthless. If Han's muscles tensed even the slightest bit on instinct, or his chakra showed the faintest stress response, a storm of ninjutsu would greet him the very next second.

At this absolute moment of life and death, Mizuki Han's mind entered an inhumanly cold state. He clamped a hand over Haku's little face, twisted with fear, and pressed her frail body hard against his chest.

No counterattack. No Hand Seals. Not a single unnecessary movement.

He forcibly suppressed the battle instinct buried deep in his bones, withdrew every last bit of the chakra that had just recovered into a blind corner of his core, and even imitated the ragged breathing of a refugee with consumption, making each breath quick and broken.

"Two strays passing by. Kill them."

The Anbu ninja who had been preparing to unleash Water Wave gave a cold snort. His Hand Seals remained unchanged as he casually flicked his hand.

Whoosh!

A Kunai gleaming with cold light sliced through the night, bringing with it a brief burst of air, and shot straight for Mizuki Han's throat.

That was enough to test whether the other man had a ninja's instincts. An ordinary person wouldn't even react in time, while a ninja would surely dodge.

The Kunai rapidly grew in his vision. Han's nerves screamed in alarm, but his body, which should have dodged, was as stiff as a frozen tree. He only made a token, terrified flinch backward.

Because his retreat was so slight and clumsy, the edge of the Kunai grazed his shoulder, slicing it open. Warm blood gushed out at once, staining his filthy gray coat red.

"Ah!" Han deliberately let out a shrill, strangled scream, like a mouse with its tail stepped on, and collapsed heavily into the muddy puddle beside him, trembling all over like a sieve. His only remaining right hand clutched Haku to him, making him the picture of a one-armed crippled brother, completely broken as he tried to protect his little sister.

He hadn't dodged. He hadn't used chakra to protect himself. A genuine good-for-nothing.

"Tch. What a waste of effort. They're just a couple of squealing bugs." The Anbu ninja who had thrown the Kunai pursed his lips and looked away, disgust clear in his eyes.

For efficient killing machines like them, wasting even a single unit of chakra on civilians at a time like this would mean neglecting their mission.

Yet, in the brief moment the Anbu were distracted by those two "civilians," the prey surrounded in the middle of the intersection found an opening.

"Scorch Release: Extremely Steaming Murder!"

A flash of desperate madness crossed Pakura's blood-smeared face. Ignoring the chakra draining from her body, she bit the tip of her tongue and formed an intricate series of Hand Seals.

The moisture in the air was sucked away in an instant. Three dark orange fireballs radiating terrifying heat appeared around her as if they were alive. The wood in the rubble around them caught fire from the sheer heat before the flames even touched it.

"Watch out! Fall back!"

The lead Anbu's expression changed. That was a terrifying Kekkei Genkai capable of instantly vaporizing the water in a person's body, leaving them a mummy. The four Anbu could no longer spare a thought for the two bugs in the corner. They surged with chakra and rapidly retreated, while also unleashing Water Release to defend themselves.

The clash between Water Release and Scorch Release kicked up a vast cloud of white steam in the middle of the street. With Pakura's desperate counterattack, the battle gradually shifted toward another street.

From beginning to end, Mizuki Han remained sprawled in the muddy water in a twisted pose. His right hand was like a red-hot iron, welded to Haku's face, keeping her from making a sound and from seeing this cruel scene.

[High-purity combined reaction of Wind and Fire chakra bloodlines detected—Pakura of Scorch Release.]

[Talent rating: Extremely high.]

[If successfully fused, the host's Ice Release will undergo a mutated evolution, gaining the dual extremes of hot and cold. Mark as the first hunting target?]

The system's cold prompt rang abruptly in his mind.

Through the gaps between his fingers, Mizuki Han watched the red-haired figure fighting amid firelight and steam.

The dual extremes of hot and cold? An extremely high talent rating?

It was tempting. At full strength, he would absolutely have been like a venomous snake lurking in the dark, waiting for both sides to wear each other down before going in to finish them all off.

But not now.

His left arm was useless, the wound in his lung was bleeding, and he barely had enough chakra to perform even the most basic Water Clone. To get involved in a meat grinder where even an elite jonin could die at any moment, all for a high-yield gene?

That would be stupid.

"No. Suppress all prompts about this target."

Han issued the order decisively in his mind. He didn't hesitate for a moment, nor did Pakura's desperate resistance stir the slightest bit of so-called sympathy in him. This was the Shinobi World. Every second, someone was struggling to survive. What did it matter to him if others were betrayed or slaughtered?

He removed his hand and lifted Haku, who was on the verge of suffocating, out of his arms.

"Did you see that clearly?" Han's voice was faint amid the deafening roar of ninjutsu, yet every word cut like a blade.

Haku gasped for breath, her shoulders jerking. If Han hadn't covered her mouth, her scream would already have turned them into two corpses on the ground.

"They're going to kill her... just like they killed our clan..." Haku's voice was thick with sobs.

"So what?" Han used his mud-smeared right hand to grip Haku's chin, forcing her to look at him. "Are you going to rush over and save her? With those hands that can't even hold a Kunai steady?"

Haku went cold under Han's pitch-black gaze and shook her head frantically.

"Remember. In this damned place, compassion is a death sentence. You can't even keep yourself alive, yet you pity someone else? That's arrogance. And the arrogant die fast."

Han released her, stood up, and grabbed Haku's sleeve again, ignoring the fresh wound on his shoulder.

In the distant street, Pakura's roars and the Anbu's sneers grew fainter and fainter. The purge in the blood mist continued without end. The Kekkei Genkai survivors dragged from their homes, the civilians crying out in despair—all of them were nothing more than worthless scenery in Han's eyes.

He led Haku onward, trudging toward the slums at the edge of the village like a soulless walking corpse.

Rain began to fall at some point. The cold water washed the blood from the street and the grime from his ashen coat.

Half an hour later.

The buildings ahead grew low and dilapidated. The air no longer reeked solely of blood; now it stank of excrement, spoiled food, and moldy wood. Not a single light shone in the narrow alleys. Only greedy eyes, like those of hungry stray dogs, occasionally gleamed in the darkness.

The slums. The last lawless corner of Kirigakure, and the last place of refuge for the scum, criminals, and desperate souls abandoned by the village.

Mizuki Han stopped. He sensed several ill-intentioned gazes around him. Though he and Haku were dressed in filthy clothes, Haku's delicate face was a sin in a place like this.

Han's right hand slowly reached for the Ninja Blade smeared with mud at his waist. Just as he was about to deal with those reckless lowlifes, a bone-chilling sound of chewing suddenly came from the darkness ahead.

"Crk... crk..."

A corpse missing its lower half was suddenly dragged into the shadows by something.