In the autumn of Konoha's fifty-ninth year, the sky was clear and the air crisp.
On the outskirts of the Death Forest.
A gray-haired boy stood before a wooden training dummy in an open clearing.
The boy had delicate features and wore brown short sleeves and shorts. A white bandage was tied around his forehead, and his pale pupils were particularly eye-catching.
Staring ahead in complete concentration, the boy assumed the opening stance of the Eight Trigrams Palm.
"Gentle Fist Art: Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms."
As his voice rang out~~~
The gray-haired boy suddenly moved, so fast that he left a string of afterimages behind.
"Two Palms!"
"Four Palms!"
"..."
"Sixty-Four Palms!"
The gray-haired boy's footwork was nimble and elegant, his strikes flowing as smoothly as clouds and water, a feast for the eyes.
Thud, thud, thud...
For a moment, palm shadows filled the air like butterflies dancing among flowers. Every one of the gray-haired boy's strikes landed solidly on the wooden dummy, producing sounds like pearls falling onto a jade plate. Their marvelous rhythm was utterly captivating.
As his voice faded~~~
The gray-haired boy was slightly out of breath, but a delighted smile appeared on his face.
Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms—flawless!
The boy's name was Hyuga Hayato, and he was a member of the Hyuga Branch Family. Hayato was only twelve this year, yet he had already mastered a secret technique that only the Hyuga Main Branch could use. Who would believe it if he told them?
However, Hayato was not getting carried away.
Originally, he had merely been an ordinary civil servant in China on Blue Star. With no connections, no wealth, and no bright future, he had lived like a salted fish. He had thought that life would continue until the day he retired.
Forrest Gump had