Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 412: God’s Downfall (4)

Dragon Raja 3

Open the Well of Bones and take the god? Shio didn’t believe the Oni Clan could pull it off. The god was the remains of the White Empress, a violent and cruel entity. Who could take it? Then, would they open the Well of Bones to let the god flow into Red Well via the Akagi River and drown it in the five thousand tons of mercury below? That was exactly what the Yamata no Orochi had planned to do.

Shio realized he needed to figure out the Oni Clan’s objective before he could come up with a countermeasure. Logical analysis was his specialty.

“Miyamoto-kun! The results of the second acoustic probe are out,” an engineer’s voice came through his headset. “The rock layer thickness near the Akagi River is still 20 meters, but the noise data from the rock layer is strange! You must come take a look!”

Shio rushed to the control station. The data had already been transmitted to the screen, showing noise data as a wildly oscillating line. This clearly wasn’t caused by a minor earthquake; the amplitude was too uniform. It looked more like the work of some mechanical device.

The engineer extracted another sound wave sample for comparison and found that it matched the noise data almost perfectly.

“The comparison is with the sound wave profile of our own tunneling machine,” the engineer said, looking into Shio’s eyes.

Shio understood instantly. There was another super tunneling machine digging through the rock layer. No wonder there had been strange rock layer noises following them for days.

There were originally two super tunneling machines. When the English Channel Tunnel was excavated, one started from each side and met in the middle to halve the excavation time. But at the Shirakami Air Base, they had only seen one machine. Where had the other gone? Japan had imported the machines to dig a new undersea tunnel—it wouldn’t make sense to import only one.

The other machine is in the hands of the Oni Clan, who are digging a tunnel that will connect to the one excavated by the Yamata no Orochi.

After collapsing the Yamata no Orochi’s tunnel entrance, the water from Akakikawa and the deity within it will flow into the Oni Clan’s tunnel. The Oni Clan has already prepared another underground space nearby to capture the deity.

What a flawless plan: using the Yamata no Orochi’s tunnel while diverting the deity into their own trap. On Chinese mahjong tables, this kind of tactic is called “cutting off the winning hand”—a term Shio had heard before.

Such a scheme required an unfathomable depth of calculation, complete intelligence, and the consideration of all variables to deduce the only viable course of action. Shio couldn’t believe a human could achieve this, but the Osho had done it. Perhaps he truly wasn’t human.

Shio calmed down, his body gradually cooling, like steel hardening after being forged. His brain began operating at even higher speeds. Escape was never an option; whether the Osho was human or not, Shio would stay and gamble against him in this match.

The Osho’s plan was perfect, each step tightly interlinked. Shio appreciated such opponents.

When it came to strategy, Shio had never conceded to anyone. He firmly believed that humans didn’t need overwhelming force. Even with a sliver of strength, as long as it was applied at the critical point, it could topple mountains.

With each passing second, Shio’s chances diminished. Yet, in such moments, his excitement only grew. His eyelashes fluttered rapidly, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. Whether at the University of Tokyo or during his time at Cassell College, he had maintained a peculiar habit: during exams, he wouldn’t even glance at the questions for the first two-thirds of the allotted time, simply sitting there daydreaming.

After two-thirds of the time had passed, as others began handing in their papers, he would finally start answering. Starting with a time disadvantage, his thinking speed had to be triple that of others. This self-imposed challenge forced his brain to accelerate. The closer to the end, the faster he became. He would often finish writing at the exact moment the bell rang—and he always topped the class.

The Osho’s plan must have a flaw because killing Ryoma Senichirō was undoubtedly a risky move. It also exposed the Oni Clan’s crucial infiltrator within the Yamata no Orochi. The Osho had dispatched the Kanto branch to make up for weaknesses in the plan.

If Shio could locate that weak point, he could overturn the situation. A true strategist flips the battlefield in the final moment!

Suddenly, in the darkness, a cold light flashed, aimed at Shio’s neck. It was a fire axe, wielded by an engineer. As Shio lowered his head in thought, this engineer, who had been stationed near the tunneling machine, turned back as if to leave the tunnel.

But just as he passed by Shio, he drew the fire axe hidden at his side. Weapons were prohibited in the tunnel, but metal tools were plentiful.

At the same time, a sharp screwdriver pierced the heart of Shio’s assistant, blood spraying everywhere.

The killing spree erupted. Several people on the work platform were struck down, their heads smashed by hammers or throats crushed by pliers. The engineers split into two factions in an instant: killers and victims.

Shio had made a grave mistake—he had placed too much trust in his colleagues at the Ganryū Research Institute. There were Osho’s moles in the institute. The Osho wouldn’t give him a chance to devise a counterstrategy. No matter how brilliant a tactician, a severed neck can’t come up with a plan.

Everyone knew Shio had no combat ability and carried no bodyguards.

Victory was imminent for the assailants, but a slender engineer behind Shio suddenly grabbed his collar and yanked him away, saving him from the axe blade.

Even after narrowly escaping death, Shio didn’t flee. He sat on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

This gave the assailant a second chance. The axe came down toward Shio’s head, but it stopped mid-swing, unable to move another inch.

Someone had gripped the axe blade—a slender engineer, the same person who had saved Shio earlier. No one knew when they had appeared. The figure stood silently, hand extended as if holding a cup of coffee.

The next moment, a black, slender object stabbed into the assailant’s throat. The blood-stained blade withdrew slowly, revealing a black military dagger.

The figure placed Shio on a chair, then leapt onto the elevated work platform. They moved like a speeding bullet, darting and weaving through the crowd. Each collision marked another strike and withdrawal of the dagger, its curved bloodstains flashing briefly before disappearing.

Shio continued laughing, the sound laced with madness. Before he finished, the cleanup was complete.

The slender figure stood atop the platform, dagger lowered, a trail of blood dripping onto the metal surface. The remaining engineers knelt one by one before collapsing to the ground.

Just a minute ago, the tunnel had been bustling with activity. Now it was silent as death. The only ones breathing were Shio and the mysterious rescuer.

Shio panted heavily, trying to calm himself but couldn’t suppress bursts of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” the slender figure tilted their head, looking at him.