Chapter 8

This world had no sympathy for the weak. Only by mastering power could one tear apart cruel reality.

"Sharingan!"

Two tomoe appeared in his eyes. Saitama clenched his shuriken and sprinted toward a giant tree, racing straight up its vertical trunk.

The technique of gathering chakra beneath his feet to defy gravity was the result of his recent painstaking training.

Kicking off a high branch, he shot back toward the ground like an arrow loosed from a bow.

As he fell, four cold flashes tore through the air in succession.

Before the first batch of shuriken struck, fresh blades were already clamped between his fingers.

His scarlet eyes swept sharply across the field as both arms swung again.

"Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The sounds of metal striking metal rang out one after another. Saitama closed his eyes, twisted at the waist, and landed steadily.

Every shuriken struck its intended target with perfect accuracy.

When he opened his eyes again, his pupils had returned to normal.

His ninja tool throwing had now reached perfection.

Brushing nonexistent snowflakes from his collar, Saitama gathered up the scattered blades. Today's training was over.

"You two want to apply for early graduation?"

The bald academic director adjusted his glasses, feeling that the world was becoming more absurd by the day—

Since when had geniuses become as common as weeds?

The bald official eyed the two Uchiha boys standing in the office suspiciously.

Had his horizons been too narrow for him not to have heard of geniuses like them?

After confirming that neither was joking, he realized he needed to report this to his superiors.

"I need to consult my superiors on this matter. Go back to class for now. You'll be notified immediately once there's news."

He forced what he considered a friendly smile and motioned for Saitama and Shisui to leave.

"Thank you very much!"

Shisui bowed respectfully, while Saitama nodded politely.

In the hallway, Iruka stopped them. "Where did you two just go?"

Saitama answered frankly, "We went to apply for early graduation."

"What?!" Iruka covered his mouth in shock, then showed a look of understanding. "Right... after all, you're from the Uchiha clan."

He lowered his head to look at the floor, his voice gradually falling. Though his physical strength was outstanding, his talent for ninjutsu was **. Even with desperate training, he could barely keep up with the curriculum.

Saitama silently patted his shoulder, then returned with Shisui to their seats in the back row.

Meanwhile, the bald official knocked on the Hokage's office door.

"Kawashima? What is it?" The Third Hokage set down his documents and picked up his pipe.

"Today, two Uchiha freshmen applied to take the graduation exam..."

The Third listened quietly until he heard the crucial information.

"But they've only been enrolled for half a year, and one of them was absent for several months last term."

"Their names?"

"Uchiha Shisui and Uchiha Saitama."

The Third exhaled a ring of smoke and narrowed his eyes. He had seen those two names on the freshman roster. They seemed rather gifted...

"Since they meet the requirements, there seems to be no reason to refuse," he mused.

Kawashima sat upright before the Third, respectfully bowing his head.

"Yes, sir. I'll take my leave, Lord Hokage."

The office returned to silence, broken only by the occasional soft crackle of the pipe.

"Your application has been approved."

Kawashima studied the two precocious children before him.

Though they were only six years old, there was not the slightest trace of childish innocence on their faces.

Their eyes held only an unsettling calm.

"The graduation assessment will take place this afternoon. Last ten minutes against a Chunin, and you pass."

Kawashima adjusted his glasses as he made the announcement.

After bidding farewell to the balding official, Saitama and Shisui walked out side by side.

The noon sun cast their shadows long across the ground.

"Confident?"

"Piece of cake."

Shisui tilted his head, revealing his signature sharp-toothed grin.

As the sun slanted westward, dust drifted lightly over the training ground.

"Who's going first?"

The young teacher serving as examiner adjusted his forehead protector.

Behind him stood two unfamiliar Chunin, the Konoha emblems on their flak jackets glinting coldly.

Shisui stepped forward half a pace. "Please allow me to go first."

His palm rested on his ninja tool pouch, his gaze fixed on the tachi.

"Choose either one. Mind your limits."

The examiner stepped aside to clear the way.

"The gentleman carrying the tachi."

Shisui's tone was steady, nothing like that of a child.

The Chunin who had been chosen narrowed his eyes.

The Uchiha crest was especially glaring beneath the sunlight.

He recalled that silver-haired genius from several years ago, and his fingers unconsciously tightened.

"Begin!"

The instant the examiner's hand fell, two cold flashes collided in a shower of sparks.

The difference in height made Shisui stagger backward in their first exchange.

But he spun at once and lashed out with a fierce roundhouse kick, his clothes sweeping in an arc.

Saitama stood at the edge of the field with his arms folded, but he noticed the probing gaze of the other Chunin.

The gravel on the training ground glowed gold and red in the afterlight, like dying embers.

(

The Chunin let his guard down for a moment, and Shisui's heavy kick slammed into his thigh.

After a brief clash, both sides retreated and widened the distance between them.

Shisui stared fixedly at his opponent, fine sweat seeping from his palms.

He was only a Chunin, yet the pressure was this intense!

He took a deep breath, and his gaze suddenly sharpened like a blade.

A cold flash appeared!

The Chunin lunged forward like a leopard, his slanted ninja blade carrying tremendous force.

Shisui pushed off the ground to meet him, their blades crashing together in a chain of sparks.

Clang! Clang!

Though weaker in strength, the boy moved as nimbly as a fish.

Advancing and retreating, dodging left and right—

Every counterattack that caught a weakness forced the Chunin to hastily alter his move.

The scales of advantage seemed to be tipping?

Anger flared in the Chunin's eyes, and his blade suddenly accelerated. Shisui's offense was gradually suppressed, and after another block—

Bang!

A sharp pain exploded through his abdomen. Shisui was kicked several meters away, his boots scraping dark marks across the ground.

The Chunin swung his ninja blade with a vicious grin, crooking the fingers of his left hand in a taunt.

"Body Flicker Technique... I hadn't intended to use it."

Shisui gripped his blade and charged, but just as the two were about to meet, he suddenly formed hand seals.

The Chunin's pupils shrank sharply!

The moment the afterimage vanished, a bone-shattering blow struck his back—

Boom!

This time, the Chunin flew out like a kite with its string cut, his blade scraping across the stone path with a piercing screech.

(The Chunin spat to one side, surprise flashing across his face.

He had not expected to underestimate this Uchiha boy.

He had even mastered the Body Flicker Technique. No wonder he had the confidence to apply for graduation!

Sheathing his sword, the Chunin slowly rose to his feet.

Based on those moves alone, this kid was qualified to graduate.

There was still plenty of time left. It was a good chance to get in more practice.

Shisui licked his dry lips, his gaze locked on his opponent.

He had seized the initiative with the Body Flicker Technique just now, but the same move would not work twice.

His knuckles whitened around the hilt—ultimately, real skill would have to do the talking.

A thirst for strength churned within his chest.

"Not bad!"

The Chunin pointed his blade at Shisui, a teasing smile on his lips.

"Clang!"

The sound of metal clashing became endless as the two figures tangled in battle without pause.

Ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye.

"The assessment is over!"

When the proctor called out to stop them, Shisui was bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

The match had left him shaken—an Academy student had actually fought a Chunin to a standstill, even gaining the upper hand at times.

Though the examiner had not gone all out...

Shisui solemnly sheathed his sword and gave the examiner a deep bow.

The two formed hand seals and smiled at each other.

"Congratulations on graduating." The Chunin waved cheerfully, admiration hidden in his eyes.

To possess such strength at that age, the Uchiha clan had produced another genius.

"Next, Uchiha Saitama!"

Shisui winked at his companion by the field.

Saitama shrugged with a helpless expression and strode toward the other Chunin.

Judging by his attire, this examiner seemed to specialize in ninjutsu.

"Begin!"

The instant the command rang out, Saitama shot forward like an arrow from a bow.

He had always liked the feeling of controlling the pace.

"Whoosh!"

His first slash missed, the blade cutting through nothing but air.

The Chunin calmly retreated, then flicked a kunai toward his face!

"Clang—"

Sparks flew as Saitama blocked with his blade, the piercing ring tearing across the training ground.

Flames and blade light intertwined, and both figures retreated at the same time after the collision.

"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"

"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"

Scene Thirty-Four

The same hand seals, the same blazing flames!

The onlookers held their breath—this student's hand seal speed was perfectly synchronized with that of a Chunin!

Having used their kunai to halt their retreat, the two completed their techniques before the dust had even settled.

Boom!

The crimson fireballs collided in midair, scattering explosive sparks that scorched black marks across the grass. Amid the rolling heatwave, Saitama spun aside to evade the scattered flames and tightened his grip on his long blade. Twenty paces away, the Chunin brushed sparks from his shoulder, a deep furrow forming between his brows.

His Fire Release... had actually been suppressed?

Was this truly the chakra control an Academy student should possess?

The clash of metal rang out once more as the two figures turned into blurred afterimages. The sparks thrown from kunai and blades were even more dazzling than the flames before.

Saitama felt his blood boiling.

His tongue passed over his dry lips. The boy's pupils abruptly contracted, and the look in his eyes sent a chill down his opponent's neck.

—The hunter had entered his element.

The Chunin understood that fighting spirit. Crushing gravel beneath his boots, he charged.

The instant he leaped up, Saitama's blade reflected a blinding silver gleam as all the strength in his body poured into this slash!

Clang!

Although he blocked in time with his kunai, the chunin was still forced to one knee by the tremendous force. His knee guard struck the ground with a dull thud. Roaring, he threw off the pressure and sent the boy flying several meters back.

Saitama steadied himself and silently assessed the situation: their taijutsu was barely even, but the gap in experience was like an unbridgeable chasm.

A cold gleam flashed toward him!

The chunin's kunai became a silver afterimage, his assault pouring down like a rainstorm. Without activating his Sharingan, Saitama was forced back step by step, the shrieks of clashing metal blending into one continuous sound.

Clang!

As he caught the lethal strike aimed at his throat, Saitama raised his head and met the chunin's cold downward gaze.

A sharp whistle tore through the air—

The boy's toe shot straight for his weak point, the upward kick carrying a piercing shriek that ripped through the air.

(The height disadvantage left me no choice.)

Saitama's underhanded side kick made the chunin's pupils contract sharply, his teeth unconsciously biting into his lower lip.

His right leg twisted sharply, his knee slamming down to intercept the attack with perfect precision and lock Saitama's ankle in place.

In that instant, the deadly whip kick was neutralized before it could do any harm.

Blade and kunai ground fiercely against each other as Saitama suddenly exerted force, pressing his blade toward his opponent.

This slash was not meant to wound him, only to force him back—

Sure enough, the chunin stepped back to evade it, and Saitama took the chance to break away and leap backward.

(My muscles are screaming.)

The dull pain radiating from the web of his hand reminded him of the difference in their strength.

(The odds of winning are slim.)

"Clang!"

Block, then retreat.

Under the airtight assault, Saitama's rhythm had completely fallen apart.

"Mm?!"

The chunin suddenly froze, his fingers whitening as they clenched around his kunai.

The onlookers exchanged glances—why had that storm-like barrage of attacks abruptly stopped?

"My body...?"

A numbness like swarming ants crawled across his limbs. He stared at the battle-ready Saitama in alarm.

(Poison? Impossible...)

(It's that sword!)

"You noticed?"

The boy relaxed from his defensive stance, his long sword angled toward the clear sky.

Lightning flickered across its edge, blooming with a blue-green glow beneath the blazing sun.

"Lightning Release Chakra Nature Transformation?!"

The chunin's pupils trembled violently, his fingers nearly unable to hold on to his weapon.

(You've got to be kidding me!)

How could Saitama possibly give his opponent a chance to catch his breath?