How About I Take You As My Disciple?

"How do you feel?" Madara turned his head slightly, ignoring Hashirama, who was laughing his head off nearby without a shred of dignity, and instead fixed his gaze on Qile, asking in a calm tone.

"I feel like my body's been hollowed out." Qile answered without hesitation.

Hearing this, no trace of surprise appeared on Madara's face; he seemed to have anticipated this situation. "It is merely chakra exhaustion, nothing of consequence. With a little rest, you will recover soon enough."

Qile felt slightly more at ease after hearing this, but he immediately pressed on with impatient curiosity: "Then, did I succeed last night?"

His eyes were filled with anticipation and urgency, desperate to receive a definitive answer from Madara.

Madara remained silent for a moment, staring at the anxious Qile before him, while the scene from the previous night involuntarily surfaced in his mind.

Qile had fumbled through the hand seals, and the moment the final seal was completed, he took a sharp breath. The very next instant, a massive fireball erupted from his mouth, seemingly illuminating the entire night sky.

Although it lasted for an exceptionally short time, Madara knew full well that this was simply because Qile was still young and his chakra reserves were limited.

Naturally, despite being highly satisfied with Qile's talent, Madara remained nonchalant on the surface, showing not a flicker of emotional fluctuation.

He slowly extended his right hand, picked up the teacup on the table, and took a gentle sip. Only then did he nod unhurriedly, signaling his approval of Qile's performance the night before.

At this, Qile couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. For him, he had never expected to be like Itachi, spitting out a fireball on his first attempt; he had only hoped to be like Sasuke, managing to spark a few flames on his first try.

Now that he saw Madara nod, his heart finally settled. If Madara said he succeeded, then he succeeded.

A man of Uchiha Madara's character would never spare your feelings just because you were a child.

"Wow, Madara, you're being a bit harsh. The kid is still so young, and you've already drained his chakra completely." Hashirama stopped laughing at this point, beginning to speak up for Qile.

"Hmph! When we were his age, we were already carrying kunai onto the battlefield at three years old. A mere case of chakra exhaustion—what does that even count for?" Madara said with disdain, as if such a condition was not worth mentioning.

Hearing this, Hashirama frowned slightly. He recalled his own childhood experiences, paused for a moment, and then continued, "But it is precisely because of that that we were able to build the Konoha we have today."

Standing to the side, Qile listened quietly to their conversation, reflecting on the things Hashirama had done and his consistent attitude and behavior toward others.

If Qile had been a native of the ninja world, he would have undoubtedly cast his vote for Hashirama without hesitation when faced with the choice between Madara and Hashirama for the First Hokage.

However, just as the atmosphere between Madara and Hashirama began to grow heavy, the previously somber Hashirama suddenly revealed his unreliable side.

With a simple, honest smile on his face, he said to Qile with great enthusiasm: "Hey, little one, how about I teach you something fun? Come here, come here."

Before he could finish, and without waiting for Qile's consent, Hashirama reached out and pulled Qile to his side, not forgetting to toss the dice in his hand with eyes full of anticipation.

Watching this from the side, Madara helplessly rubbed his forehead, then waved his hand gently toward Yeling, who was standing nearby, and said: "Go prepare dinner. Having slept all day, he will be hungry before long."

"As you command, Clan Head." With those words, Yeling bowed respectfully to the three present before stepping back slowly and departing.

At this moment, Hashirama shouted loudly: "We'll just compare the size of the numbers!" As he spoke, he impatiently tried to hand the dice to Qile.

However, just as the dice were about to fall into Qile's palm, Hashirama seemed to change his mind, pulling his hand back abruptly and declaring: "Considering you aren't familiar with the rules yet, I'll roll first!"

"Madara! Do you want to join in?" Hashirama shouted at the top of his lungs, his face full of excitement.

Unfortunately, faced with such an enthusiastic invitation, Madara showed no reaction, not even sparing him a glance.

Even so, Hashirama was not discouraged; he tossed the dice from his hand without hesitation.

"Five!!!!!!!!"

On the square table, the dice lay still, the number displayed clearly visible.

Hashirama had been watching with bated breath, and upon seeing the number, he suddenly ignited, letting out a loud howl.

The sound was so deafening, like a thunderclap, that it made Qile, standing nearby, shudder.

After his excitement subsided, Hashirama snatched the dice from the table with lightning speed and shoved them into Qile's hand without hesitation.

At the same time, he wiped away his smile and said with a grave, serious expression: "Little one, you have to hold the dice tight just like I did, and then throw them with force!"

As he spoke, he gestured wildly in front of Qile, seemingly afraid that Qile wouldn't understand the technique.

Faced with such an enthusiastic and impatient Hashirama, Qile felt a sense of helplessness, but he could only nod obediently and toss the dice onto the table.

In that instant, Hashirama, who had been sitting steadily, sprang up as if his seat were fitted with springs, his eyes locked onto the rolling dice, not daring to blink.

The next moment, when the dice finally stopped rolling and settled on a "four," Hashirama could no longer suppress his inner ecstasy and threw his head back in laughter, the sound echoing through the room: "Hahahaha! It's a four! Just a little bit smaller than mine! Alright, little one, let's go another round!"

And so, time ticked by. In the period that followed, the smile on Hashirama's face became increasingly exaggerated and twisted, almost to the point of being perverse.

In stark contrast was Qile's complexion; as the game progressed, his face grew darker and uglier.

Even the usually calm and composed Madara couldn't help but feel puzzled after seeing their strange states—was Hashirama's luck really that good today?

Unable to suppress his curiosity, he joined in to play a few rounds himself.

The result was unsurprising: after he entered the fray, he was able to roll higher numbers than Hashirama with ease.

After these two test rounds, Madara was convinced that Hashirama was not cheating.

Which meant that Qile was truly...

At this moment, Qile was being driven to the brink of madness; in the short span of half an hour, he had lost seven or eight out of ten times.

Could his gambling luck really be this abysmal!?

One had to know, this guy Hashirama's gambling luck was notoriously terrible!

While perhaps not on the same terrifying level as his granddaughter Tsunade, it was certainly close enough.

"Hahahaha..."

Ever since the game began, Hashirama's hearty, boisterous laughter had been incessant, continuing until he noticed that Qile's originally fair and delicate face was becoming increasingly sullen due to repeated defeats, at which point he finally reined in his dice-throwing a little.

"Oh my, little one, you still need a lot more practice! Back in the day, I went through countless real-world trials to achieve the god-like gambling skills I have today, so don't you go getting too envious!" Hashirama patted Qile on the shoulder with a beaming smile, his smug and slightly teasing expression truly enough to make one grit their teeth in frustration.

Qile stared wide-eyed at the incredibly arrogant and punchable Hashirama before him, a nameless fire slowly rising in his heart.

At that very moment, he truly wanted to raise his hand and give the man a good, hard slap across the face!

"How about this: you kowtow to me three times, and I'll take you on as my disciple. How does that sound?"

Whether Hashirama did it intentionally or by a slip of the tongue, he suddenly blurted out these jaw-dropping words.

"Hashirama! You've crossed the line!" Madara was the first to snap back to reality, his tone as cold and stern as water from a frozen pool.

"Uh..." Hashirama scratched his head in embarrassment and said sheepishly, "Sorry, sorry, my mistake, my mistake."