socalfunplaces Chapter 370 Fuji Syusuke's Teleportation Array
Chapter 370 Fuji Syusuke's Teleportation Array
Chapter 370 Fuji Syusuke's Teleportation Array
Black Stone pushed through the crowd and ran westward, glancing back as he went.
Chi Quan was still standing there.
Amidst the chaotic crowd, before the collapsing mountainside, and amidst the noise of over 20,000 people, he stood there, motionless, like a knife stuck in the mud.
The mountainside continues to slope inwards.
The speed wasn't fast, but it was unstoppable. That was the power of Earth Release ninjutsu—not an explosion, but a displacement. It hollowed out the bottom of an entire mountainside, causing it to collapse under its own weight. Twelve Jonin activated simultaneously, each responsible for a section of the mountainside, their coordination flawless. This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment ambush; it was a pre-planned, repeatedly rehearsed, and clockwork-precise massacre.
Black Stone suddenly understood why the reconnaissance team had fainted. It wasn't Chi Quan who did it; it was someone else. Chi Quan didn't need to lift a finger; he only needed to stand there, let the Allied Forces see him, let the Allied Forces chase after him, and let the main force of the Allied Forces—no, not just the vanguard, but the entire force—enter this basin.
This is a trap.
It has been from the very beginning.
Outside the western entrance of the basin, the Allied central army is assembling.
Luo Sha stood on a small hillside, watching the vanguard troops enter the basin one after another. He never put down his binoculars. The fog in the basin was too thick, and he couldn't see very far, but he could vaguely see the tail of the vanguard troops still outside the western entrance of the basin, like the tail of a snake writhing on the ground.
"Where is the forward?" he asked the messenger beside him, putting down his binoculars.
"The main vanguard has entered the central part of the basin. Vanguard Commander Lord Blackstone is currently located in the western part of the central basin. The reconnaissance team reports that a lone figure has been spotted in the eastern part of the basin, suspected to be..."
He hadn't finished speaking.
The ground shook.
Luo Sha nearly dropped the binoculars. He steadied them and aimed them again at the basin. Then he saw the north and south walls of the basin collapsing towards the middle.
It's not poured slowly.
It was poured out completely, face by face.
The shrubs, vines, rocks, and soil on the mountainside blended together like two enormous walls, converging simultaneously toward the center of the basin. The rumbling sound took several seconds to reach Luo Sha's location; it wasn't a single sound, but dozens of sounds in a row, like thunder, but more muffled and deeper, as if something was turning over underground.
Luo Sha's hands began to tremble.
It wasn't because he was afraid. It was because he knew what was inside.
Thirty-two thousand people.
The vanguard numbered 3,000, the central army 12,000, the rear guard 8,000, and there were also 132,000 people for logistics, medical, messenger, and exploration.
Most of them have already entered the basin, while the rest are gathering outside the western entrance of the basin, waiting to go in.
"Blow the horn! Sound the siren! All troops halt!" Rosa's voice was hoarse, sounding more like an ordinary person who had seen hell than a general in his sixties.
The trumpeter sounded the retreat.
But it was too late.
The main force of the central army was already near the western entrance of the basin. When the order to retreat reached the front, those at the forefront had already witnessed the collapse of the mountainside. They began to retreat, but those behind them continued to surge forward, and the two forces collided in the narrow passage at the western entrance of the basin. Some were pushed to the ground, some were trampled, and some drew their weapons in the chaos, thinking that there were enemies nearby.
Luo Sha drew his sword, cut off a tree branch blocking his path, rushed down the hillside, and ran towards the western entrance of the basin. His deputy commander chased after him, calling for him to turn back, but he couldn't hear him.
When he reached the western entrance of the basin, he witnessed the most horrific scene he had ever seen in his life.
The north and south walls of the basin have completely collapsed. The rock and soil from the two walls converge in the center of the basin, like two huge mudslides colliding, stirring up dust tens of meters high. The dust obscures the entire basin, making it impossible to see anything except for the grayish-yellow dust swirling in the light, like a huge beast breathing.
But that's not the worst part.
The most terrifying thing is the sound.
The sounds emanating from the dust and mist were not screams or cries, but a more primal, more animalistic kind of muffled groan—the kind of sound that comes out when the throat is blocked by mud and rocks. Someone was shouting "Help!", but the sound, coming from the dust, became muffled and distant, as if separated by several walls. Someone was calling out a companion's name, again and again, the sound growing louder until it became a roar, and then suddenly it stopped.
Luo Sha stood at the western entrance of the basin, his legs trembling.
He wasn't inexperienced in warfare. He fought in three Shinobi World Wars, saw dead bodies, he saw hordes of dead bodies, he saw charred corpses...
Soaked and shredded. But he had never seen anything like it—not killing, but burying. Not killing the enemy face to face, but sealing more than 20,000 people in a huge earthen coffin, letting them die slowly, one by one, in darkness and suffocation.
"Save them!" Luo Sha's voice forced out from his throat. "Save them!"
His deputy commander finally caught up with him and grabbed his arm.
"Lord Rasa! You can't go in! The cliff face is still slippery! Anyone who goes in will be buried!"
Luo Sha shook off his hand and rushed into the dust and mist.
The eastern entrance of the basin.
Shikamaru stood behind the rock, his hands on his knees, his head bowed.
He heard the sound of the mountainside collapsing, the ground trembling, and a faint, discordant sound filtering through the dust from the basin. His hands were trembling. Not from the cold, but because he knew what that sound meant.
More than 20,000 people.
He closed his eyes and clenched his back teeth.
Fire Gate still had his Byakugan active, but his face was deathly pale. It wasn't from excessive chakra depletion; it was because he could see. His Byakugan could penetrate the dust and see what was happening inside the basin—those buried under the earth and rocks, those still struggling, and those who were no longer moving.
Fire Gate's hands were shaking, and his whole body was trembling.
"Fire Gate." Shikamaru's voice was low.
The fire door is not responding.
"Fire Gate!" Shikamaru raised his voice.
Huomen abruptly turned to look at him, his eyes bloodshot as if they were about to drip. His lips were moving, but no sound came out.
Shikamaru walked up to him and placed his hands on his shoulders.
"Turn off the eye roll."
Fire Gate shook its head.
"Turn it off!" Shikamaru shook him hard. "You've already seen it, just remember it. Turn it off now, or your eyes will be ruined."
Fire Gate held on for a few more seconds before finally closing his eyes. The moment his Byakugan closed, he slid down as if all his energy had been drained away. Shikamaru caught him and helped him sit down against the rock.
The sound of teeth chattering came through the communicator. Unlike his usual boisterous self, his voice was very low, as if he were speaking with his mouth covered.
"Shikamaru—in the basin—where are our people?"
Shikamaru pressed the call button.
"We're not among them. They're all outside."
Ya remained silent for a long time.
"Where's Chiquan?"
Shikamaru looked towards the eastern entrance of the basin.
Dust billowed from the basin, like a large, grayish-white cloud, rolling outwards close to the ground. Visibility was less than ten meters; nothing could be seen.
"He should be at the retreat point," Shikamaru said. "Fuji Syusuke set up a teleportation array for him, which will trigger thirty seconds before the Earth Release technique is activated."
"should?"
"should."
Ya didn't ask any further questions.
Shikamaru knew why he didn't press the matter. Because Kiba had also heard that sound. It wasn't a sound that should have come from the battlefield; it was a sound coming from a grave.
The area in the eastern part of the basin is where the dust and fog are densest.
Chiquan stood there.
He was still standing.
When the mountainside collapsed, the ground beneath his feet shook so violently that he almost lost his footing. He still held the knife in his right hand, his left arm pressed against his abdomen—the wound on his abdomen had reopened during the tremors, and he could feel warm liquid seeping from under the bandage, flowing down his side.
The smell in the dust was awful. Dust, mud, broken rocks, and a faint, distant stench of blood. Not just one person's blood, but many people's.
Chi Quan lowered his head and looked at the ground beneath his feet.
He stood at a high point at the bottom of the basin, about half a meter higher than the surrounding ground. This half-meter height difference was pre-selected. When the Earth Escape technique was activated, the rock and soil on the mountain walls would pile up from both sides towards the middle, forming a low watershed along the center line of the basin. The area on the watershed would not be buried, but would be surrounded by dust and gravel.
He stood on the watershed.
All around was a grayish-white dust cloud, obscuring everything beyond ten steps. The ground beneath my feet was still trembling slightly, and the distant sound of collapsing mountain walls gradually changed from a roar to the sporadic sound of falling rocks.
Chi Quan heard a voice coming from the depths of the dust and mist, not far from him.
It was a person shouting. The voice was hoarse and intermittent, as if the throat had been screamed to pieces but was still persisting. It wasn't Japanese; it was the dialect of the Land of Lightning. Ikezumi only understood one word—"Help!"
He didn't move.
The knife was still in his right hand, tip down, planted in the mud.
Another sound came from another direction. Closer still, it was someone coughing, coughing violently, each cough accompanied by a wet, churning sound, as if liquid was swirling in their throat. The coughing lasted for about ten seconds, then stopped.
That's all.
Chi Quan stood on the watershed, knife in his right hand, left arm pressed against his abdomen. Dust drifted past his face, and tiny grains of sand stung his skin like countless fine needles.
His face was expressionless.
It wasn't calmness, coldness, or numbness. It was a blank, empty expression, as if something had hollowed it out.
Shikamaru's voice came through the communicator.
"Chi Quan, report your location."
Chi Quan didn't answer immediately. He looked down at his abdomen—there was blood on the back of his hand, not much, but it was still seeping out.
"The basin is in the middle to the east, at the watershed." He pressed the call button, and his voice sounded like it came from a great distance. "The teleportation array didn't trigger. Fuji Syusuke's mark might be fake."
There was a full three seconds of silence on the communicator.
When Shikamaru's voice rang out again, it had changed tone.
"What did you say?"
"The teleportation array didn't trigger," Chi Quan repeated. "I stood on the marker and waited for thirty seconds, but nothing happened."
"So how did you get out?"
"I haven't come out. I'm still in the basin."
A muffled thud came from the communicator, like Shikamaru punching a rock. Then came Kiba's voice, urgent and panicked, unlike Kiba's usual tone.
"Chi Quan! Run east! Run as fast as you can! The mountain wall on the east side hasn't completely collapsed; there's a gap—"
—
"No," Chi Quan interrupted him. "The gap on the east side was left by me, but if I go out from there, the Allied forces will follow me out through the gap. They haven't all gone in yet; there are still at least ten thousand people outside the basin. If I go out through the gap, I'll run right into them."
"Then what are you going to do?!" Ya's voice was almost a shout.
Chi Quan did not answer.
He gazed at the dust cloud before him. The dust cloud was slowly settling, changing from grayish-white to pale gray, and from pale gray to translucent. The outline of the basin began to emerge—no longer the low-lying, waterlogged, weed-overgrown basin, but a vast, earthen platform, like a construction site. The platform's surface was uneven, littered with piles of rubble and soil; some places bulged like mounds, others sunken like wounds.
Occasionally, one could see a hand reaching out from the cracks in the soil and rocks, or a corner of clothing sticking out, or a pool of abnormally colored liquid flowing downwards.
Chi Quan turned his gaze back.
He heard footsteps behind him.
It wasn't the kind of footsteps that are too synchronized and heavy like those of the Allied forces. This footstep was very light, like a cat walking on muddy ground, with the intervals between each step being exactly the same, and the rhythm as steady as a metronome.
Chi Quan did not turn around.
The footsteps stopped about ten paces behind him.
A voice came from the dust and mist, neither loud nor soft, with an unsettling tone that sounded like laughter but wasn't.
"Chiquan."
Chi Quan turned around.
A person stood in the dust and fog. Tall, wearing a dark gray long coat, with long hair that draped over his shoulders, his face was half-obscured by the dust and fog, only the lower half of his face could be seen—a pointed chin, thin lips, and a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, as if he were always smiling.
"I've been waiting for you for a long time," the man said.
Chi Quan looked at his face without saying a word.
The man took two steps forward, and some of the dust receded from his face. It was hard to tell his age—thirty? Forty?
Fifty? His skin was very pale, unnaturally pale, as if he hadn't seen the sun for years. His eyes were gray, as gray as clouds on a cloudy winter day.
"You don't know me," the man said, "but I know you. I've known you since you were very young."
Chi Quan gripped the knife tightly in his right hand.
He recognized the voice. Not from memory—he'd never heard it before. He recognized it from the brand on the back of his neck. The brand felt as cold as if someone had pressed a block of ice against it. It wasn't Helian plucking the strings in the distance; it was Helian himself standing before him.
"Helian," Chi Quan said.
Helian smiled. Not a loud laugh, but a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth and a narrowing of his eyes, as if he had finally seen something he had been waiting for a long time and that satisfied him.
"You guessed it," he said. "Then you should have guessed it too—Fuji Syusuke's teleportation array isn't fake."
Chi Quan's expression changed.