Sakura Haruno froze.
Ino Yamanaka froze too.
The few girls beside them who had been ready to keep arguing also fell silent. They looked at one another, unsure how to respond.
They had thought that Naruto would, as usual, stubbornly argue back, saying something like, "I'll do it anyway," or "It's none of your business."
But he agreed?
Just like that?
This couldn't be right, could it?
Something strange was going on. From what they knew of Naruto, they were sure he wouldn't give up so easily. Who knew what bad idea he was cooking up?
After discussing it, the girls decided that Sakura Haruno and two others sitting near Naruto would keep a close eye on him during class.
The bell rang.
Qiushui entered the classroom and walked up to the lectern. He opened the textbook and said, "Today, we'll be covering trap theory."
Looking at the faces below him—some attentive, some indifferent, others bored—he spoke loudly. "This course on trap theory is far more interesting and important than you think."
He closed the textbook and set it aside. "All right, let me ask you something. Suppose you've trained hard for years and are clearly stronger than your opponent, but then you accidentally step into a trap they set and lose for no apparent reason. How would you feel?"
The students exchanged glances. Someone muttered, "I'd definitely be mad."
Qiushui nodded, a hint of meaning in his smile. "Once you become real ninja, what will your primary goal be?"
Thanks to the Will of Fire they had been taught, one student answered immediately, "Complete missions."
Qiushui picked up the thread. "That's right. Completing missions is the goal. But veteran ninja who've spent over a decade struggling through missions won't foolishly stand in front of you and shout, 'Come fight me one-on-one!' They'll do whatever it takes to kill every obstacle and enemy standing in the way of their mission."
The atmosphere in the classroom shifted slightly. These students weren't five- or six-year-old children. As they grew older, they'd lost some of the innocence they'd had at the beginning.
Qiushui spoke earnestly. "You don't have to use traps or underhanded tricks yourselves, but you must understand them. If you don't, you won't recognize them. If you don't recognize them, you'll fall into one. And what happens after that?"
They didn't need Qiushui to spell it out. They knew that whatever awaited them after falling into a trap wouldn't be good.
Qiushui continued, "Think about it. You work hard at the Ninja Academy for six years, finally graduate and become a ninja, then die cluelessly in an enemy's trap on your very first mission without even seeing what the enemy looks like. How would you feel at that moment?"
The classroom fell completely silent.
A few students swallowed unconsciously.
Dying like that... really would be frustrating.
Qiushui studied their expressions and nodded in satisfaction. "So being angry won't help. Your enemy won't give you a second chance. Even if you think you're strong enough that you don't need to set traps, you still need to recognize them. Not so you can hurt someone else, but so you don't become that fool."
With Qiushui's example in mind, the students began to take the lesson seriously.
For the rest of the class, Qiushui didn't teach like an ordinary instructor at all.
He peppered his explanations with jokes, occasionally asked questions about traps, and called on students at random. Whether they answered correctly or not, he offered a gentle comment or a little encouragement.
"That's a good answer. Your reasoning is sound."
"That's an interesting idea. It's not quite right, but at least you thought it through."
"It's all right. Getting it wrong is normal. You'll remember it better after making a mistake."
The students were used to other teachers' rigid, stiff lessons, where wrong answers earned a scolding. Qiushui's teaching style was a breath of fresh air.
So this was what class could be like?
Gradually, they noticed something strange.
The teacher was covering the same dry theoretical material as everyone else. Why were they actually able to pay attention?
They didn't feel restless like they usually did. They didn't get drowsy as the lesson went on, and they didn't feel like doing things unrelated to class.
Instead, they found themselves following his train of thought, wondering what he'd say next and what would happen after each story.
Time slipped by quietly in the relaxed, cheerful atmosphere.
Ever since class had started, a few students had been distracted.
Sakura Haruno kept glancing over at Naruto.
Ino Yamanaka did too.
So did the two other girls beside them.
They were ready to act at a moment's notice. If Naruto did what he usually did—pull a toad out of his desk, or throw something onto the lectern while the teacher had his back turned—they'd rush over and stop him immediately.
They absolutely couldn't let Naruto ruin their chance to listen to their handsome teacher!
However...
Ten minutes passed.
Twenty minutes passed.
Four classes passed.
Naruto stood there the whole time without moving. He didn't make any sneaky little moves, nor did he look suspicious.
On the contrary, he stood perfectly straight, his expression unusually serious.
Anyone who didn't know Naruto's past antics might have thought he was a model student who loved studying.
Sakura Haruno, Ino Yamanaka, and the other girls didn't see Naruto do anything that broke classroom rules before class ended.
They'd wanted to stop him from doing anything bad, and they'd succeeded. So why did they feel a little disappointed?
[Training complete]
[Overall rating: A]
[Training reward acquired—Shuriken Throwing Technique (Max Level)]
The Shuriken Throwing Technique was a fundamental skill every ninja had to learn, and Qiushui had mastered it long ago. He could hold three shuriken securely between the fingers of each hand, and his throwing form looked convincing. But his inconsistent proficiency made his accuracy unreliable, and he struggled to hit enemies in actual combat.
Yet the system-granted [Max-Level Shuriken Throwing Technique] was like a clear stream flowing into his mind. Countless throwing techniques and insights unfolded in the depths of his consciousness: the precise angle of a tilted wrist, the subtle flow of chakra clinging to a blade, calculations for predicting a target's path, and even tactical ideas for striking multiple times by using ricochets. These experiences, once belonging to elite Jonin, were now etched into his muscle memory and fighting instincts as clearly as if they'd been innate.
Qiushui could feel the difference. Before, he could barely control three shuriken between both hands, and his accuracy was poor. Now, he could throw four at a time with one hand and hit the target every time.
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