Seeking a Hidden Corner in the Slums, Seizing a Basement by Force

Even the rain in the slums seemed thicker than elsewhere. Every drop that struck them brought a lingering chill and stench.

In the darkness, the bone-chilling sound of chewing paused for a moment. A few greedy eyes, like those of wild dogs, peered out through the gaps in ruined shacks and the shadowy mouths of drains. They were scavengers in this lawless land, the lowest sort of carrion feeders. They survived by stripping clothes from the dead and living off scraps, and sometimes preyed on anyone who looked vulnerable.

To Mizuki Han and Haku, they were two helpless pieces of meat. A boy with his left hand severed, covered in blood, and a little girl with mud and rainwater on her face but skin still soft and delicate. In this hellhole, such a pair represented a certain kind of "high-value" currency.

"Lucky us... A rat just died, and now two fresher ones have come along."

A burly man with a face full of boils emerged from behind a pile of rotten planks. He carried half a rusty iron pipe. As he moved, three more men, gaunt and sharp-eyed, closed in from different directions, subtly sealing off Han's escape route.

The burly ringleader stared at Haku, who was hiding behind Han, and his Adam's apple bobbed. He let out a nauseating laugh. "Leave the girl here, and I'll be merciful enough to let you, you one-handed cripple, crawl away."

Terrified, Haku clutched Han's clothes and buried her face against his back, her body trembling uncontrollably. She had seen this kind of malice too many times. She knew what would happen if she fell into their hands.

Mizuki Han didn't take a single step back. He didn't even change his breathing. He stood quietly in the rain, his remaining right hand hanging at his side. His oversized gray coat was soaked through and clung to his pale, emaciated frame.

He was very weak now. The solid ice in his lungs had begun to melt, and waves of pain through his meridians battered his focus. His ruined left arm felt as heavy as if an iron ingot were tied to it. He didn't even have the strength to refine a trace of chakra.

But did he need ninjutsu to kill these lowlifes, who didn't even possess chakra?

"Where do you hole up?" Han's hoarse voice rang out in the rainy night, calm and without a ripple of emotion.

The burly man froze, apparently unable to understand what the one-handed cripple was asking. Then he burst into a shrill laugh. "Hahahaha! You little cripple, have you lost your mind? Asking where we hole up..."

Before he could finish, Han moved.

There was no earth-shaking burst of chakra, no flashy opening move. It was a pure killing technique, honed through countless near-death battles and stripped of every unnecessary motion.

Han pitched forward, his legs driving off the muddy ground with tremendous force. Like a black arrow skimming the earth, he crossed the three meters in an instant and crashed straight into the burly man's chest.

The man's laughter died in his throat. He instinctively tried to swing the rusty pipe, but Han's right hand was already reaching out. A kunai, scavenged from an Anbu and still stained with dried blood, had slipped between his fingers.

"Shhk—"

At an extremely tricky angle, the kunai plunged beneath the man's jaw, through a soft, undefended spot, and sank in to the hilt. Its sharp tip sliced through the windpipe without resistance and pierced straight into his brain.

The man's eyes flew wide. His body collapsed into the mud like a puppet with its strings cut, without so much as a scream.

The three other thugs were still laughing along with him. Their smiles froze, turning to utter horror. None of them had seen how the frail cripple had killed their boss in an instant.

Han didn't pause. Using the force of withdrawing the kunai, he dropped into a low slide through the mud, dodging a rusty short sword swung at him from behind. As he slid, he planted his right hand in the mud and twisted his body in an impossible angle, the edge of his kunai slicing precisely through the man's ankle artery.

"Ah!" The second thug screamed and fell.

Han sprang up at once and stomped hard on the man's shattered ankle, using it to propel himself half a meter into the air. The cold kunai traced an arc of death through the night rain and plunged directly into the third man's left eye, driving deep into his brain.

It all happened too fast. From his sudden attack to the deaths of three men, barely three breaths had passed.

The last thug was already paralyzed with terror. His weapon clattered to the ground, and he dropped to his knees in the muck. "Don't kill me! Please, sir... spare me!" He frantically kowtowed, splashing mud across his face.

Han walked slowly toward him, holding the bloodied kunai. His icy gaze from above was more piercing than the winter rain in the slums.

"I'll ask you one more time. Where do you hole up?" Han's voice remained steady, but carried an irresistible pressure.

"D-down there! Behind that pile of trash cans... There's a basement made from an abandoned sewage reservoir..." The thug pointed to an inconspicuous corner nearby, his voice shaking.

"Lead the way."

Five minutes later.

The thug tremblingly moved aside several foul-smelling boards and pushed open a heavy, rusted hatch. A concrete staircase leading underground came into view. The space below wasn't large, and its low elevation made it feel cramped, but it had reinforced walls and a fairly sturdy iron door. Some rotten quilts and assorted junk covered the floor. The air reeked of damp and mold, but it was already an excellent hiding place amid these ruins.

"M-mister, it's here. No one but us ever dares come near this place. C-could you let me go now?" The thug's face crumpled as he begged meekly.

Standing at the entrance, Han quickly scanned every corner of the basement. After confirming there were no hidden passages or traps, he nodded slightly.

"Take care of the bodies outside. Dump them at that intersection. I want everyone nearby to know what happens if they come close."

"Y-yes!" The thug bolted up the stairs, rolling and scrambling as if he'd just been pardoned.

But the instant he turned around, Han hurled the kunai in his hand. It shot like a bolt of cold lightning and struck the thug in the back of the head with a muffled thud.

The thug pitched forward onto the stairs. Blood slowly trickled down the concrete steps.

Only the dead kept secrets. The unwritten rule in this area was that leaving bodies out in the open would intimidate the other hyenas and let them know this territory belonged to someone ruthless.

Han lowered his hand, and his body swayed violently. His strength, pushed to the limit, gave out completely. He slid down against the rusty iron door and sat on the ground.

Haku, who had silently followed behind and watched the swift massacre, hurried over. Straining, she dragged the corpse away, then slowly pulled the heavy iron door shut and fastened several thick bolts from the inside.

"Click. Click."

As the last bolt slid into place, utter silence fell over the basement. This cramped space had temporarily become their only shelter from the storm.

The moment he heard the bolts slide shut, the nerves Han had held taut to their limit finally relaxed, almost imperceptibly. In that instant, the injuries he had kept suppressed for so long broke free like a savage beast escaping its cage, launching a full-on assault.

An intensely unnatural flush spread rapidly across his cheeks, and his body temperature, which had been icy, began to soar at an alarming rate. Black blood, thick with a rank stench, seeped from the wound through his chest. But the most deadly threat was his already necrotic left arm.

The frenzied ice crystals within the left arm he had forced himself to use for the forbidden Ice Release technique were no longer restrained by chakra. They began racing along his severed meridians, spreading toward his heart and across half his body!

Han's vision darkened. Even his breath seemed to carry sparks of scorching fire. He could feel his body being torn apart by two extreme forces: the flames of a raging fever and the absolute cold of crystallization.

Haku had just turned around when she saw Mizuki Han, who had been leaning against the door, collapse heavily onto the filthy bedding.