Troubled Wind Eleven

Troubled Wind Eleven

Time flew by, and before they knew it, the second-year finals had arrived.

Aburame Tetsumaru had completely adapted to a school life of sleeping through class. Occasionally, while half-asleep, he would ponder the problem of adjusting his meridians.

The moment class ended, he came alive, chatting, joking, and swapping snacks with Inuzuka Tsuyoshi, Yamanaka Yu, Nara Kaya, and Akimichi Daito. They were the closest-knit group.

Aburame Tetsumaru's little circle, along with Uchiha Fūka and Hyuga Tokuma, formed Class A's leading clique. The gap between them and the other students was becoming increasingly obvious.

In the third month after enrollment, Hyuga Tokuma received the "Caged Bird" mark. From then on, he became quiet and withdrawn, melancholy and unhappy, and began wearing a dark gray headband.

Moreover, Hyuga Tokuma took leave from school more and more often, and without anyone noticing, they gradually drifted apart.

Over the past two years, Aburame Tetsumaru had focused on four things: practicing his clan's secret techniques, adjusting his meridians, collecting bugs, and cultivating insects.

During that time, he had also tried taking a shortcut, hoping to escape the stagnant predicament of the Insect Swarm Plan.

His first attempt was to make a crossbow, but just like the martial arts problem from his previous life, it could not adapt to the realities of the Shinobi World.

The arrows flew at around eighty meters per second, which was actually comparable to a shuriken Tetsumaru threw with full force. Combined with the slow firing rate, bulky arrows, and other issues, the few prototypes he made ended up as toys for five-year-olds.

Afterward, Aburame Tetsumaru put considerable effort into forging a short-barreled smoothbore musket. The cost of preparing gunpowder and forging the barrel alone reached one hundred thousand ryo.

The finished product's paper statistics were not bad. Its muzzle velocity could reach two hundred meters per second, and it was powerful enough to kill any ninja.

However, hitting a target at fifteen meters depended entirely on faith, while beyond thirty meters, its power dropped enough for a ninja to evade it. Aburame Tetsumaru had personally tested those figures.

Aburame Tetsumaru estimated that any gun capable of being useful in the Shinobi World would have to be at least a bolt-action rifle. Used for long-range sniping, it would be difficult for Chunin and Genin to escape unharmed.

An automatic rifle could probably pose a lethal threat to Chunin at close range, thereby shaking the status of ninja.

But the technical requirements for integrated brass-cased cartridges were far too high. It was not something Tetsumaru could achieve with the current technological base.

Rifles and bullets were products of the Industrial Revolution, crystallizations of chemistry, material smelting, and mechanical processing. With an industrial system supporting them, they could be mass-produced by the hundreds of thousands or millions. Without one, not even a single rifle could be made.

Do not use Afghanistan as an example. Whether raw materials or critical parts, their workshops did not produce them themselves; they purchased them from industrialized nations.

The Shinobi World's industrial foundation was currently blank. There was no possibility of hand-polishing a rifle into existence.

Yet ninjutsu's power did not stop at rifles. A C-rank ninjutsu was powerful enough to rival a 60mm mortar, while an S-rank ninjutsu was no weaker than a multi-ton Mother of All Bombs. As for Tailed Beasts, they were practically walking tactical nuclear weapon launchers.

Ninja were not idiots. They would not tolerate the development of thermal weapons capable of challenging their position. The Shinobi World no longer had fertile ground for firearms.

Unless one could skip the entire development process and leap directly to the mature level of the late Second World War, with thermal weapons forming a complete system and an industrialized nation backing them, it might be possible to fight ninja through overwhelming production and a complete war system, eventually eliminating ninja through attrition.

How could that be possible? The gap between muskets and a modern warfare system was as vast as a chasm, roughly equivalent to the gap between a newly graduated Genin and Senju Hashirama.

Giving up on modern weapons, Aburame Tetsumaru could only devote all his time to researching the plan, continuing his stubborn struggle with Kikaichū and insects.

Chunin Teacher Domoto Daibutsu entered the classroom with the attendance roster.

"The next class is practical combat. Everyone, assemble at the training grounds."

"Yes!"

"Great! Practical combat is my favorite class."

"Jiro, this time I'm going to beat you!"

"Bring it on! Who's afraid of who?"

The classroom immediately erupted into noise. The students excitedly discussed it as they ran out in groups of three or five.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Three figures jumped out the window, taking a shortcut.

Domoto Daibutsu was surrounded by a crowd of students and had no time to react. Watching Aburame Tetsumaru and Nara Kaya jump out after them, the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably. He hurriedly used Shunshin to appear by the window and stopped the other overconfident students. This was the third floor.

"You bastards! Last year, you idiots broke three legs, and you still haven't learned your lesson!"

"Teacher Domoto, I'm not who I was last year. Please believe in me!"

"Exactly! Teacher, you can't just keep an eye on us!"

"..."

"Baka! Take the stairs!"

What else could he do? Of those six unruly little bastards, four were academic geniuses who got perfect scores in cultural subjects. Add in the gloomy Hyuga Tokuma, and they were precisely the top six in the class, all among the top ten students of their year. Every last one of them came from a major Konoha clan.

Led by Aburame Tetsumaru, they had all become thick-skinned troublemakers. They were either grinning shamelessly or acting as though the world had wronged them. Without a doubt, they were the hardest class the Ninja Academy had ever had to manage.

Whoosh. Hyuga Tokuma jumped out too.

Domoto Daibutsu: ┌(.Д.)┐

The other students: (﹁﹁)(﹁﹁)(﹁﹁)

At that moment, silence spoke louder than words.

Then all the students got excited and howled as they charged toward the windows. Domoto Daibutsu's rage rushed to his head, his reason shattered and ascended to heaven, and he swung his iron fists to suppress them.

More than a dozen students jumped downstairs like dumplings, while more than a dozen children with swollen lumps on their heads lay sprawled around the classroom.

In the chaos, the classroom windows were squeezed loose, shoes were scattered everywhere inside and outside, and the children downstairs had fallen into a tangled heap. Screams, cries, and even louder hysterical laughter rang through the sky, drawing students and teachers from across the school to watch.

More than ten minutes later, a whole crowd of parents arrived.

Then the Sandaime Hokage arrived as well.

Domoto Daibutsu was exhausted. He really wanted to retire.

The final result was not too bad. The students were much stronger than last year. This time, no one was seriously injured and no one suffered fractures. The worst injuries had all been caused by Teacher Domoto's iron fists.

Although they had been delayed, practical combat class still began, and there were now many more spectators.

Yamashiro Teacher, another instructor responsible for Taijutsu education, announced that this practical combat class would be jointly held by Class A and Class B. The results of the matches would count toward their total scores and form part of their final grades for the year.

The moment they heard "count toward their total scores and form part of their final grades for the year," every Class A student sucked in a sharp breath.

At that moment, the seven troublemakers were being punished, standing alone in a row outside the training ground. To their left stood the Class A students, to their right stood the Class B students, and the teachers were across from them. The listless Aburame Tetsumaru stood in the center of the row, utterly inconspicuous.

But upon hearing "count toward their total scores" and "final grades for the year," Aburame Tetsumaru's lazy expression vanished. He snapped upright.

Standing straight, Aburame Tetsumaru was visibly much taller than the other children. Over the past two years, he had grown especially fast. At eight years old, he was already nearly one meter sixty tall, far surpassing his classmates' average height of one meter thirty.

Aburame Tetsumaru also pushed up his sunglasses, concealing his half-lidded eyes. His classmates who knew him well all sensed a murderous aura and shuddered.

Damn it, the score demon had appeared.

Over the past two years, Aburame Tetsumaru had slept during cultural classes, faked illness during physical training, held back during practical combat, and slacked off during Taijutsu sparring. He openly declared that what he hated most was Taijutsu where fists met flesh.

But whenever exams and scoring were involved, or something could affect his final grades, Aburame Tetsumaru became exceptionally serious. He would stop at nothing, had no bottom line, and was terrifyingly ruthless.

During the first year's practical combat assessment, quite a few Class A students had been smeared across the face with salt powder by that bastard. Later, he had used chili powder, pepper powder, and all sorts of other things. The only gentleness he showed was that he used sugar powder when fighting girls.

This year, Aburame Tetsumaru had come up with countless bizarre bugs: paralyzing moths, itch-inducing butterflies, sleep bugs, irritating caterpillars, drunken beetles, glue slugs, bomb stinkbugs...

Thinking of the practical effects of the bomb stinkbugs that this rogue had created, the Class A students and Teacher Domoto Daibutsu shuddered together, recalling that indescribable stench.

Ugh, the nausea was coming back.

The practical combat class proceeded smoothly amid Class A's trembling unease and Class B's utter confusion. Aburame Tetsumaru also took the field twice, knocking out one child with each punch.

This year's elite class did not have any heaven-chosen prodigies like Itachi or Minato. Everyone had received roughly the same education, trained for similar amounts of time, and none had mastered any powerful ninjutsu.

When skill and tactics were similar, physique naturally became the most important factor in actual combat. One meter sixty against one meter thirty was simply that straightforward.

Aburame Tetsumaru's third opponent was a formidable one: Uchiha Shūnen from Class B.

The name Shūnen sounded somewhat like a monk's Dharma name. Who knew whether his parents believed in Buddhism, but Uchiha Shūnen was a highly talented ninja.

Aburame Tetsumaru and Uchiha Shūnen stood in the field and formed the Seal of Confrontation.

"Aburame Tetsumaru, the top student of our year. The second insect user after Aburame Shikuroo to suppress the Uchiha."

Uchiha Shūnen swaggered a few steps to the left, radiating an intense chunibyo aura as he recklessly raised flags.

"The Uchiha will not lose to the Aburame clan. Today, I'll show you what a genius of the Uchiha clan is like."

After saying that, Uchiha Shūnen rapidly began forming hand seals.

"Idiot Shūnen, why are you forming seals? Rush in and fight him! Rush—huh?"

From the sidelines, Uchiha Fūka had been reminding Shūnen that the best way to deal with an Aburame was close combat. Then he suddenly noticed that after taking a few steps, Uchiha Shūnen had begun using Fire Release. The problem was that he was facing directly away from him.

Even more terrifyingly, beyond Shūnen's shoulder, he saw Aburame Tetsumaru reaching into his clothes and rummaging for something. Tetsumaru was facing him directly, and a chill shot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

"Aburame, you bastard, stop!" X6

The six top students of Konoha Year 27's Class A panicked. The cold-faced, gloomy Hyuga Tokuma instantly broke character, swore loudly, and fled in a frantic scramble.

The teachers and students of Class B were utterly baffled. The Class A students collectively retreated, while Teacher Domoto Daibutsu immediately leaped in front of his students and formed hand seals.

Earth Release: Barrier.

On the field, Uchiha Shūnen completed his hand seals, puffed out his cheeks, and spat out three fireballs the size of human heads.

Fire Release: Flame Bullet Barrage.

"Wow, that's a D-rank ninjutsu."

"And it's an improved version of Flame Bullet. It's much stronger than Flame Bullet."

"He truly deserves to be called an Uchiha genius. He can master such a powerful ninjutsu at eight years old."

Those were the words of the Class B students and teachers. But for the teachers and students of Class A, things were entirely different. They had only one thought: Idiot Uchiha, damned Tetsumaru.

The instant Uchiha Shūnen spat out the first fireball, Aburame Tetsumaru also took out his secret weapon.

"Mirror Gu."

After nearly two years of effort, there had finally been at least a tiny bit of progress.

A palm-sized spider crawled out from his sleeve. Its eight legs gripped the back of its owner's left hand tightly, and the spider's back was polished bright like a mirror.

Facing three fireballs, Aburame Tetsumaru remained completely calm. He rapidly formed hand seals.

Wind Release: Troubled Wind Eleven

A powerful gust then appeared from nowhere and blasted forward.

At that moment, the two furry hind legs of the Mirror Gu on the back of his left hand released his arm, folded backward over its body, and began rubbing together. Countless body hairs were scraped loose and scattered into the air by the wind.

Wind Release and Fire Release collided. The Wind Release, infused with more Chakra, overwhelmed the fireballs. One fireball was extinguished, while the other two were blown away.

Wrapped in dust, smoke, and sparks, the Wind Release howled forward and knocked Uchiha Shūnen off his feet.

Troubled Wind Eleven and its sister techniques were actually all the same. They possessed neither sharpness nor cutting properties. The technique itself simply blew wind and had no direct killing power.

The technique's entire force was concentrated in the wind. It had almost no destructive power; the true core lay in whatever was mixed into the wind.

For example, Troubled Wind Eleven blew out the body hairs of the Mirror Gu spider.

These hairs were protein crystals. When large, they were exceptionally brittle and could easily be crushed. But once broken down into fibers almost invisible to the naked eye, their properties abruptly changed, becoming extremely hard.

The fiber thorns were extremely sharp and could easily pierce human skin. Their special protein structure intensely stimulated the skin's nerves, producing an itching sensation.

If someone could not resist scratching, the hard fiber thorns would use the force of the person's own hand to pierce cells, causing injury and a burning pain.

The fiber thorns of Troubled Wind Eleven dissolved easily in water, so they were not very harmful. No aftereffects had been found in experiments, so it was used for internal sparring among teammates.

Its variants, Twelve and Thirteen, were for enemies. Twelve used asbestos. Anyone struck by it would inevitably suffer chronic lung disease, and without treatment from a high-level medical ninja, they would be forced into retirement.

Troubled Wind Thirteen used crystalline thorns condensed from neurotoxic agents. The instant they struck, they triggered severe pain. The unbelievably intense agony could cause unconsciousness or even cardiac arrest.

The poison acted too quickly. Within one minute, its effects would be fully unleashed. Whether the target lived or died depended entirely on individual constitution, making antidotes meaningless. It was an exceptionally vicious thing.

Unfortunately, there had been no opportunity to test the lethal substances in actual combat. They were all conjectures based on animal experiments. Ninja possessed exceptionally strong constitutions, and neurotoxins might very well fail to achieve lethal effects on them.

Class A had reacted so quickly because they had personally experienced five versions of Troubled Wind: the itchy Type One, the burning Type Four, the numbing Type Five, the tear-inducing Type Seven, and the sneeze-inducing Type Ten.

The most disgusting part was that there could be aftereffects. For example, Type Four's aftereffect was acne. What girl would not be afraid of that?

Uchiha Shūnen was hit. Besides him, the Class B students standing near the left side were also caught up in it. The Sandaime Hokage, standing farther outside, had the good fortune to witness the strange sight of more than twenty students rolling all over the ground.

Even Aburame Tetsumaru was startled by the effect. It should not have been this intense.

In an instant, he understood. There was a flaw in his experiments. Rabbits, used as test subjects, had thick fur that effectively blocked most of the thorns, while he had only used a single spider hair when testing it on himself.

Clearly, discussing toxicity without considering dosage was nonsense. Being hit by a large number of fiber thorns produced a terrifying increase in the intensity of the itching.

Aburame Tetsumaru did not dare delay. He hurriedly shouted to the teacher, "Teacher Daito, quickly use Water Release to wash them off! They'll be fine if you rinse them with water!"

"You bastard, I don't know Water Release."

"Who knows Water Release? Hurry and use it on the children!"

"I'll do it!"

As the other teachers present hurriedly began using Water Release, a massive wave surged forward.

Water Release: Great Water Shockwave.

The Sandaime Hokage, standing at a distance, instantly used Water Release. The Sandaime in his prime was at the peak of his strength. Before the group of Chunin had even finished forming their hand seals, the slowest-paced Water Release technique had already arrived.

Just as the wave neared the edge of the training ground, the Sandaime formed the Monkey seal again. "Release."

The five-meter-high wave immediately lost its force, breaking apart into a heavy downpour over the training ground.

The fiber thorns rapidly dissolved upon touching water, and everyone naturally stopped feeling uncomfortable. The only issue was that all of Class B had turned into drowned rats.

The troublemakers from Class A ran back and merged into the larger group, joining all their classmates in furiously berating Aburame Tetsumaru alongside Teacher Domoto Daibutsu.

A veteran rogue with the outward appearance of an eight-year-old and the inner core of a fifty-year-old was a remarkable man. He especially understood the times. His attitude was excellent: he lowered his head, admitted his mistakes, did not talk back when cursed at, and did not fight back when hit...

Well, none of the students dared hit him. They were afraid that the king of fights would retaliate.

The teachers also felt awkward about laying hands on him. No matter what, beating students would be excessive.

Otherwise, that bastard Aburame Tetsumaru would have long since vanished without a trace. He knew when to yield and when to stand firm, understood?

In any case, with things having turned out like this, the Class B students needed to change clothes immediately, and the training ground had become a mud pit. There was no way practical combat class could continue.