Obtaining that broken half of a kunai containing traces of chakra metal was like finding a grain of gold in a barren vein of ore. Ling carefully hid it in the most concealed corner beneath his bed, cherishing it like a treasure.
Yet extracting that grain of "gold" proved far harder than he had imagined.
[Refining chakra metal hinges on two things: extreme heat, and 'molecular-level filtering and separation' using chakra.] Tobirama began his lesson that very night. [Conventional methods require a furnace or powerful Fire Release Ninjutsu. You have neither.]
Ling's heart sank.
[However,] Tobirama changed tack, his voice carrying a researcher's peculiar obsession, [another possibility exists in theory! No external heat source-only chakra itself!]
[According to energy conversion theory, chakra itself contains immense energy. If you compress it to its limit and subject it to high-speed frictional oscillation at a specific frequency, producing instantaneous heat at the microscopic level, you could theoretically simulate an effect similar to fire-nature transformation! Of course, this is only a theory. Its efficiency would be appallingly low, and its demands on control would be absurdly strict.] There was even a hint of excitement in Tobirama's voice, as though he were admiring a superb experimental challenge. [And that makes it the ultimate test of your current chakra control! Whether you succeed is another matter. The process itself has value!]
Ling listened, dumbstruck. This was practically asking him to build a nanoscale, high-temperature oscillator with his bare hands! And from the sound of it, Tobirama considered this an almost impossible task whose main purpose was to "train" him?
[Try it, you useless brat.] Tobirama gave the order with a cold sneer. [Grip the kunai with both hands and focus your chakra on a single point. Imagine it as a drill bit, as rapidly oscillating particles, as a burning sun! Compress! Create friction! Generate heat!]
His attempts were a disaster. He squeezed out chakra like mad, only to produce either excessive output without enough heat, or unstable control that sent his chakra surging wildly. With a whoomph, the kunai turned red-hot and nearly burned him, yet its internal structure remained unaffected. More than ninety-nine percent of the energy dissipated.
[Idiot! Is your chakra a wild bull? All you know is brute force! Precision! Microscopic control! Feel the energy oscillating and focusing!] Tobirama's roaring nearly shattered his mind. [I'm not telling you to roast it! You need to generate uniform microscopic heat inside it!]
Failure after failure left Ling mentally exhausted, his chakra almost depleted. The broken kunai was even more battered after his efforts, yet he had not extracted so much as a trace of chakra metal.
[Stop.] Tobirama finally called a halt, his voice icy. [It seems that with your current control and chakra reserves, you cannot simulate even the lowest level of 'pseudo-nature transformation.' This approach won't work for now.]
Ling slumped to the ground, filled with disappointment and the sense that he had been played-hadn't this been an impossible task from the start?
[Still,] Tobirama changed tack, [the process of these failed attempts is itself an extreme exercise in chakra control. Your precision has improved by approximately two percent since yesterday. Starting tomorrow, add two hours of 'metal sensing and simulated energy oscillation' practice every day. Not for extraction, only for control training.]
And so another heavy burden was added to Ling's training schedule. Each day, he held that broken half of a kunai, no longer trying to melt it. Instead, he did everything he could to permeate it with chakra, sense the faint response of the chakra metal, and simulate the subtle sensation of "molecular-level filtering."
The process was excruciatingly tedious and progress was slow, but the improvement in his chakra control was undeniable. He found fine chakra manipulation increasingly natural, and both the speed and stability of his Water Blade formation improved.
A setback could turn out to be a blessing in disguise.
His physical training kept intensifying as well. Tobirama had somehow "seen" an outrageously brutal physical training regimen for children-pieced together from fragments of Ling's past-life memories-and made Ling run, frog-jump, and perform grueling shuttle sprints with homemade sandbags strapped to his legs.
Ling's life became a rapidly spinning top: weighted runs before dawn, chakra control and Water Blade practice in the morning, reaction training and "metal sensing" in the afternoon, academic subjects and secrets of the Shinobi World in the evening, and Tobirama's interrogation-style spot quizzes before bed.
He grew visibly leaner and tougher, his gaze sharp and his words few. His gray hair often clung to his forehead with sweat, making him look even more like a small animal constantly on guard.
None of this went entirely unnoticed.
The orphanage children merely thought Ling had become more withdrawn and harder to mess with. But certain adults who occasionally passed the orphanage cast meaningful glances his way.
Once, Ling was doing weighted frog jumps in the backyard, covered in mud and panting like an ox. A middle-aged man in ordinary villager's clothes, with a completely unremarkable face, walked past the fence carrying a basket of vegetables. His gaze seemed to sweep casually over Ling, lingering for a second or two.
Ling was so exhausted that his vision was going dark, and he paid no attention.
But Tobirama suddenly issued a warning from within the spiritual space.
[That man just now! Watch him!]
Ling jolted, instantly becoming a little more alert. He instinctively looked beyond the fence, but the man had already rounded the corner and disappeared.
[What's wrong, Teacher?]
[His gait.] Tobirama's voice grew grave. [He appeared relaxed, but the spacing of every step and the force of every footfall were identical. His muscle recruitment patterns showed rigorous training. He's a ninja, and one skilled in concealment and disguise. His gaze lingered on you longer than ordinary curiosity would warrant.]
Ling's heart plummeted.
Was he from Root? Or the Anbu? The thought came instinctively.
[Impossible to determine. Anbu patrols wouldn't be so furtive. Root is more likely,] Tobirama said coldly. [That scheming brat Shimura Danzō would never overlook a suspicious prospect. Kakashi's visit may have been only the beginning.]
The pressure descended like a tangible shadow.
[We're adjusting the plan again.] Tobirama issued his orders decisively. [All training involving abnormal chakra fluctuations moves to the hours before dawn or late at night. Ensure absolute secrecy. Continue your daytime physical training as usual. You can even be a little more 'clumsy.' From today onward, in front of outsiders, you will play a child who is merely somewhat withdrawn, a little strong, and occasionally plays clumsily with water.]
[Keep that broken blade hidden. Don't take it out to practice unless necessary,] Tobirama added. [We may not have much time left. You must grow stronger, faster.]
Ling nodded firmly, engraving every word Tobirama said in his heart.
He was no longer training merely to become stronger, but to survive.
Those eyes that might be watching from the shadows hung over him like a sword, forcing him to squeeze out every last bit of his potential.
Late at night, when all was quiet, he held the cold, broken kunai and sensed the faint whisper of the metal within it-a whisper that promised infinite possibilities.
Danger was closing in.
But the faint light in his hands was quietly taking shape in the darkness, waiting for the moment it would break free of its cocoon.
Before you continue