Bang!
A dull thud rang out, followed by a short, sharp cry.
The bar of soap Naruto had infused with chakra and thrown with standard concealed-weapon technique traced a perfect arc through the air and struck Jiraiya squarely in the back of the head.
The impact was not strong, but the humiliation was immense.
Jiraiya's scalp went numb. His wooden clogs slipped, and he lost his balance. Like a large bird shot down by a slingshot, he flailed wildly as he tumbled over the dividing wall, landing in the men's bath with a huge splash.
"Cough, cough, cough... Who? Who launched that sneak attack?!"
Jiraiya emerged from the water in a sorry state, wiped the water from his face, and angrily scanned his surroundings.
Naruto had already put on his training clothes at an unhurried pace. His black short-sleeved shirt and long pants outlined his lean, capable frame perfectly. He stood expressionlessly beside the bath, looking down at the white-haired man in the water.
"Peeping pervert."
His voice was not loud, yet it pierced Jiraiya's ears as clearly as an ice pick.
Jiraiya froze. He recognized the boy before him: golden hair, blue eyes, and six whisker-like marks on his cheeks. Wasn't this Minato's son?
He had expected the child to be surprised, curious, or to scream and shout like an ordinary kid. Yet the other party's reaction was as still as dead water. That was not the reaction a child should have.
Jiraiya tried to salvage his dignity. He rose from the water, puffed out his chest, struck what he considered a dashing pose, and pointed his thumb at himself.
"Kid, watch your mouth! I'm one of Konoha's legendary Sannin, the Toad Sage himself, Lord Jiraiya!"
He waited for the boy to show an admiring expression.
However, Naruto merely tilted his head. There was not the slightest emotional ripple in his icy blue eyes, as if he were analyzing an unknown object. When he spoke again, the words were exactly the same as before.
"Still a peeping pervert."
Naruto paused.
"At your level, you can be called a Peeping Pervert Sage."
Jiraiya's smile stiffened on his face.
He felt as though he had punched cotton—no, a block of solid ice. What was wrong with this kid? Where was Minato Namikaze's sunny, cheerful personality? Where was Kushina Uzumaki's fiery enthusiasm? How had none of it carried over to him?
A storm churned within Jiraiya's heart. He suddenly realized that he, this irresponsible godfather, might have missed far too much.
Over the next few days, Jiraiya launched a "gentle offensive" against Naruto.
He believed that the boy must have lacked affection, which was why he had become so "unlovable." He would use the warmth of his own heart to melt this little iceberg!
The first day, outside the training grounds.
"Yo, Naruto! Training hard? I'll treat you to Ichiraku Ramen! A large bowl with extra chashu!" Jiraiya waved enthusiastically.
Naruto stopped, glanced at Jiraiya, then looked at the sky.
"Fine. There are five minutes until my dinner time. The timing is perfect."
At the table, Jiraiya animatedly recounted his "heroic exploits" from his travels, trying to make Naruto laugh. Naruto said nothing and quietly ate his ramen.
Ten minutes later, Naruto set down his chopsticks. His bowl was spotless, and he had even finished the broth.
"Thank you for the meal." He stood and gave a slight bow. "My eating time is over. I need to return for night training."
With that, he turned and left without the slightest hesitation, leaving Jiraiya alone to stare blankly at the empty bowl.
The second day, at a street corner.
"Naruto! Look! A new limited-edition popsicle, soda flavor!" Like a child showing off a treasure, Jiraiya ran over holding two popsicles.
Naruto accepted one and examined the ingredient list.
"High sugar content. Not recommended on non-training days. However, it is acceptable as an energy supplement."
He ate it expressionlessly, then accurately tossed the stick into a trash can some distance away.
"Thank you. I still have 1.2 kilometers left on my patrol route. I need to continue."
With that, he vanished around the corner.
Jiraiya stood there holding his own nearly melted popsicle, utterly disheveled in the wind. Why was this kid like a robot? Even eating was like carrying out a mission?
A deep sense of frustration and sorrow filled him.
At the Ichiraku Ramen stand, he once again "ran into" Naruto eating alone. This time, he did not approach him. He merely sat at a distance and observed in silence.
He discovered that every movement Naruto made while eating seemed to have been precisely calculated. The height at which he lifted the noodles, the speed at which he delivered them to his mouth, the number of times he chewed, the angle at which he drank the broth... everything was efficient to the extreme. There was no enjoyment, no savoring—only the fastest possible intake of energy.
This was not eating. It was clearly refueling a precise killing machine.
Jiraiya's heart sank bit by bit.
What had this child gone through all these years to be worn down into this state? Third Hokage, was this how you took care of Minato's child?
Training Ground Seventeen.
Naruto gripped the savage Chainsword in his hand as chakra surged through his body.
"Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique!"
He shouted low, poured chakra into the Chainsword, and swung it forward with all his strength!
Bzzzz—!
More than a dozen phantom Chainswords appeared in the air, but the moment they formed, they flickered and warped violently like a television screen with a poor signal. Then, with a soft pop, they all vanished like soap bubbles being punctured.
He had failed again.
Naruto stopped moving and began reviewing the attempt.
The core of this technique was shaping chakra into clones identical to the original. Shuriken were small, light, and simple in structure, so they were easy to replicate.
But the Chainsword was different.
Its weight, complex mechanical structure, and irregular center of gravity all presented exponentially greater challenges to chakra shaping and maintenance. His chakra output just now had been too concentrated around the hilt and too thin at the tips of the teeth, making the clone structure extremely unstable.
"I need more precise chakra control, as well as a deeper understanding of the weapon's nature..."
He had to understand every component and every inch of this sword's center of gravity as intimately as he understood his own body.
Just as he was deep in thought, an extremely faint sound of cloth brushing against something came from behind a nearby tree.
Naruto did not turn around.
His senses had long since locked onto that location.
There was a chakra signature—weak, but constant. The other person had remained there for more than ten minutes. The same spying behavior had occurred over the past two days as well.
He slowly slid the Chainsword back into the slot on his back, turned around, and fixed his icy blue eyes on the tree.
"Hinata Hyuga."
His voice was cold, devoid of even a trace of warmth, as though he were reading an indisputable report.
"What is the purpose of your surveillance? Three consecutive days of stalking require an explanation."
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