Shuriken Throwing

After Tobirama Senju left.

Renye rested briefly, then eagerly headed to the training ground.

This was his first time practicing Shuriken Throwing, and he could not help feeling excited.

In the Shinobi World, shuriken were commonly used weapons for shinobi. Throwing shuriken allowed them to attack enemies from a distance, making them ideal for ambushes and assassinations, capable of silently delivering a fatal blow.

Put simply, if you could kill an enemy from afar, why bother engaging in close combat?

If an ambush worked, then ambush them. Eliminating the enemy was the ultimate goal.

Renye looked forward to the day when he mastered his throwing skills, when a single shuriken on the battlefield could take down an opponent. Just imagining it made his blood boil!

Renye took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

Then he slowly raised his arm, leaned back slightly, adjusted his posture, and hurled the shuriken with all his strength.

It was his first training session, so he hoped for a good start.

His standards were not high. As long as he hit the target, he did not care how many rings it scored.

However, ideals were plump, while reality was skinny.

After tracing a crooked arc through the air, the shuriken stabbed into the open ground not far in front of the target.

Forget hitting the bullseye—he had not even hit the target.

The smile on Renye's face instantly froze. His little face flushed red as though someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his heart.

He subconsciously looked around. Once he saw that no one was nearby, he breathed a sigh of relief and muttered softly,

"Good thing nobody saw that, or it would've been far too embarrassing."

He picked up another shuriken and began throwing again.

"Cough, cough. Accident, accident. Again!"

Again and again, the shuriken either veered off from the bullseye or simply fell halfway there.

Renye's forehead was covered in sweat, and his arm had become unbearably sore from repeatedly throwing, yet he still did not give up.

In this perilous Shinobi World, one's own strength was always the most important thing!

Unlike other transmigrators, he did not have a system. He could only grow stronger through relentless effort. If he wanted to become stronger, he could only persist in grueling training.

Renye was actually quite fortunate that he had been born an Uchiha. Whether it was Chakra reserves, ninjutsu talent, or combat talent, the Uchiha Clan was far superior to most other clans. They also possessed the Sharingan, a Kekkei Genkai.

Other than the Uzumaki and Senju, no clan could compare with the Uchiha.

If he had transmigrated into a shinobi from an ordinary clan, that would have been a truly hopeless start. He would not even have a place to cry.

After all, the talent ceiling of ordinary clan shinobi was right there. No matter how hard they worked, they could only get so far. At best, they would reach Jonin level.

Talent determined the upper limit, while effort determined the lower limit.

Well... those three men in green bodysuits who could use the Eight Inner Gates were exceptions.

After who knew how many attempts, Renye stood still once more, took a deep breath, and steadied his mind.

This time, his gaze was especially resolute, and the shuriken in his hand seemed to become one with him.

After repeated practice, he seemed to have found the feeling.

With a whoosh, the shuriken cut a perfect straight line through the air and embedded itself firmly in the target, dead center in the red bullseye.

"I finally did it!"

Renye dropped onto the ground, his arm aching terribly, as if reminding him of the intense training he had just endured.

Beads of sweat continuously rolled down from his forehead, slid across his cheeks to his chin, and dripped onto the ground.

Although his body was utterly exhausted, he looked at the shuriken lodged in the bullseye and revealed a satisfied smile. It was the joy earned through hard work and perseverance.

Seeing that night was about to fall, Renye rested briefly before getting up to gather the shuriken scattered all over the ground and return them to their original place.

Only after finishing everything did he drag his exhausted body back to his room. His clothes were soaked through with sweat, and he needed a good cold shower to ease the fatigue from training.

The afternoon's training made Renye realize that shuriken throwing was not something he could master overnight.

This was only a simple stationary target. In battle, enemies would not foolishly stand still in one place.

"I'll master the stationary target first." Renye considered his future training plans.

Madara Uchiha had not been a defector for long, so the Battle of the End Valley would not happen anytime soon.

And Hashirama Senju seemed to have died only a few years after defeating Madara.

Renye guessed that Hashirama Senju had probably suffered severe injuries in his battle against Madara Uchiha, which ultimately led to his death...

The First Shinobi War broke out around seventeen years after Konoha was founded. That meant Renye still had ten years to develop.

"Ten years doesn't seem like enough..." Renye clenched his fist and muttered to himself.

Wanting to become strong within ten years was almost impossible.

Ten years later, Renye would only be sixteen. He was not some overpowered freak like Naruto or Sasuke, so improving his strength would be very difficult.

"Unless I awaken the Mangekyo Sharingan!" Renye's eyes flickered.

But he quickly calmed down. Forget the Mangekyo—he had not even awakened One Tomoe yet.

Thinking of this, Renye sighed helplessly. "Forget it. I should eat first."

So he went to the kitchen and began preparing dinner.

Because of Tobirama Senju's request that morning, he deliberately cooked extra rice—two huge basins' worth.

The dishes were still mapo tofu and Kung Pao Chicken.

He actually wanted to make something else, but those were the only ingredients in the house.

He could only ask Tobirama Senju to buy more later...

Renye had just placed the dishes on the table when Tobirama Senju returned right on time.

He looked at the four dishes on the table and nodded impassively.

Not bad. They were dishes he liked.

This time, Renye divided the food into two portions, one for himself and one for Tobirama Senju.

His reason was that he was a germophobe and did not like sharing dishes with others.

Tobirama Senju was quite pleased by this. This little brat was rather sensible.

Naturally, he also did not like eating from the same plate as someone from the Uchiha Clan.

At the dining table, neither of them spoke.

Of course, the Uchiha and Senju had no common topics, and neither of them was willing to take the initiative to start one.

After dinner, Tobirama Senju carried the bowls and chopsticks to the kitchen.

"White-haired uncle, there are no ingredients left at home," Renye reminded him.

Although mapo tofu and Kung Pao Chicken tasted good, they could not eat them every meal!

Tobirama Senju paused while washing the dishes. After a moment of silence, he said,

"I'll buy some tomorrow... What ingredients do you want?"

"Anything is fine." Renye stood up and stretched. "I'm going back to my room."

Seeing that Renye was about to leave, Tobirama Senju hurriedly walked out of the kitchen holding a cup of milk. "Drink the milk before you go back."

Renye was somewhat surprised. He was giving him milk again?

He had not expected this old man to be so thoughtful. He knew Renye was still growing.

He took the milk and drained it in one gulp, then returned to his room.

After training all day, his body was extremely tired. He had to get a good night's sleep.

Tobirama Senju looked at the empty cup, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.