The Exam Begins

After the proctor finished explaining all the rules—which, in truth, amounted to only one—he vanished from the testing grounds, leaving the examinees to stare at one another in a daze.

Scanning the surroundings, Kanna saw faces filled with grief, resentment, fear, apathy, numbness, and even excitement.

There were one hundred and twenty people in total; they had to fight in pairs, and only those who survived would pass.

Even if your opponent was your friend, your brother, or your sister, you had to strike!

Kanna desperately wanted to quit. He knew that even though he, a transmigrator, had inherited this body, he stood no chance in a life-or-death struggle against these "peers" who had been receiving ninja training since childhood. It would be certain death!

However, the option to quit was non-existent. While the graduation ceremony of Kirigakure was brutal, the resources invested in every class were staggering. The reason was simple: the survival rate for Kirigakure graduates was at most 50%. When accounting for those who killed each other or those who were caught in the crossfire of others' bloodlust, the survival rate often plummeted to between 0% and 40%. In other words, each graduating class produced only about 0 to 50 genin.

From over a hundred people down to a mere thirty or fifty—for these teenagers, what a terrifying mortality rate that was. And what kind of elites would those survivors be?

Under such circumstances, to expect to quit after receiving Kirigakure's meticulous instruction? Impossible! In the history of Kirigakure's graduation exams, there had only ever been victors and the dead; there were absolutely no surviving losers!

In the history of Kirigakure, it wasn't uncommon for students who were initially too soft-hearted to strike their classmates—or even those who were so terrified they wet themselves—to exhibit a strangely cruel personality after being forced to kill a classmate to pass. Whether they were truly cold-hearted or simply became numb after that ordeal, Kirigakure didn't care. As long as you dared to take that first step of killing a friend or family member, Kirigakure would acknowledge your potential; otherwise, you were nothing but trash.

While Kanna was lost in thought, his gaze inadvertently locked with another pair of eyes.

They were eyes filled with a deer-like anxiety, clear and harmless, set within a pair of large, bright pupils.

The owner of those eyes was a beautiful girl—the same one who had reminded Kanna to enter the arena earlier—and she was currently looking at him with nervous intensity.

Is this my opponent? Kanna realized with a sinking heart. Was he truly expected to strike down a ten-year-old girl?

Or, perhaps, be killed by her?

But soon, Kanna's heart turned cold. He saw the girl's expression shift from anxiety to resolve as they locked eyes. She first pressed her hands together in front of her chest, closing her eyes and muttering something, as if in prayer. Then, she took a deep breath, reached to her waist with her right hand, drew a kunai, and held it horizontally before her, staring at Kanna with a guarded expression.

Although she was a stranger to Kanna, he believed that the original owner of this body must have been her friend. Yet, the girl had accepted reality and made her choice.

To kill Kanna, her former friend! Then, leave this hellish place! To carry the weight of the friend she had killed with her own hands and struggle to survive in this world!

This was the most cruel aspect of the Kirigakure graduation exam: companions who once shared meals were now forced to slaughter one another; best friends who had once helped each other, competed, and discussed their dreams were now pushed to make a harrowing choice.

To live? Or to die?

Across the field, people had already steeled themselves. Faces that once smiled at each other were now frozen in frost; hands that once embraced were now gripping weapons tightly. Some were weeping, some were silent, and some were sneering.

Without realizing it, the crowd began to disperse. Some stood in a stalemate in pairs; others turned and fled, their figures vanishing into the wilderness with someone else in hot pursuit. There were even those who, after a brief internal struggle, smiled with relief, hugged their siblings tightly, and closed their eyes to await death.

Kanna snapped back to reality to see the nameless girl slowly crouching, her feet spread apart, assuming a stance ready to strike at any moment.

She's going to attack me! Kanna remained expressionless. With a sudden turn, he retreated behind another group of people, blocking the girl's line of sight.

The exam had only just begun, and other examinees were still struggling with their own opponents, so Kanna wasn't worried about being attacked by anyone other than the girl.

But how was he supposed to defeat her? Kanna had no clue. Winning a head-on fight was impossible; he could only hope for some kind of variable to emerge.

That was right—in this kill-or-be-killed situation, Kanna had also made up his mind: kill her!

If he didn't kill her, he would die!

If he didn't kill her, she wouldn't spare him either!

Betting his conscience, his life, his past, and his future—he would kill her! And survive!

But soon, Kanna would learn that the "variable" he hoped for would be of a truly shocking magnitude.

In the center of the crowd, a boy with his face wrapped in white bandages, short hair standing on end, eyebrows barely visible, and a long sword strapped to his back, suddenly took a step forward, walking toward his opponent without a shred of hesitation.

His pace was firm! And it carried an aura of utter tragedy!

Though his expression was hidden, his opponent—a tall, sturdy boy—could see it in his eyes: the boy intended to kill him!

"Zabuza, are you really going to strike at me?" the tall boy asked, his brow furrowed as he shouted, "Are you going to strike at your own friend? Are you going to strike at your own brother!"

The boy named Zabuza remained unmoved, walking forward step by step.

"If we just join forces and resist! They won't dare do anything to us! Zabuza, wake up, don't fall for the tricks of those adults!" the tall boy pleaded, facing Zabuza directly.

"You're right, I agree," Zabuza said, stopping across from the boy. He reached his right hand behind his back to grip the hilt of his sword, his voice indifferent. "However, goodbye, my friend."

A flash of silver erupted. Before the boy could react, Zabuza swung his blade in a single downward arc, slicing from the boy's skull down to his abdomen, disemboweling him instantly. The boy collapsed and died on the spot.

Thud! The boy's body hit the ground, jolting everyone present. The first casualty had appeared.

No one knew if Zabuza had hesitated before killing his friend, or if he felt any regret now. Even when the act of "murder" was laid bare before their eyes, few seemed surprised.

From the moment they heard the rules, many had already realized that this would be a trial as cruel as hell.

So ruthless! And such a fast blade!

Kanna saw the fallen corpse and the crimson blood spreading across the ground through the gaps in the crowd. His mind was in turmoil, but then, he witnessed something truly inconceivable.

Zabuza, having already "finished" his exam, didn't stop at all. He raised his long sword and swung it in a circle!

Splurt, splurt. Amidst the spraying blood, four more teenagers fell, their faces still etched with confusion and disbelief.

Zabuza's ferocity immediately terrified the surrounding students, but that wasn't the end.

Thud! Zabuza stomped hard, rushed in front of a girl, reached out with his left hand to pin the arm she was using to hold her weapon, and thrust his sword through her left chest with his right hand.

"Cough..." A trace of blood spilled from the girl's lips as her body went limp and slid off the blade.

Kanna's pupils constricted. He knew he had encountered a type of person rare in the history of Kirigakure, yet one that had never truly vanished—a juvenile butcher! A natural-born killer!

While Kirigakure had no shortage of graduates who had killed several people, a Zabuza like this—who killed indiscriminately and without reason—was the first of his kind in history. At this moment, due to the lack of information, Kanna did not realize that the boy currently on a killing spree was the infamous Kirigakure ninja of history, Momochi Zabuza.

Therefore, he also did not know that the survival rate of this graduating class would shatter all of Kirigakure's records, reaching an all-time low of less than 1%.

Without a moment's hesitation, without a shred of doubt, a child who hadn't even earned the title of ninja had slaughtered all one hundred-plus examinees of this class!

(PS: I'm really sorry. After getting home, I've been out playing or hanging out with friends, so I only managed to write this much. The previous "big lottery" has been deleted; this is a rewrite. Now no one can say the opening looks like a student essay or complain that the protagonist's name is trash, right?)