Main World.
Konoha Year 29, summer.
Imperial Palace, Training Ground.
The night breeze blew in from the garden, carrying the fresh scent of grass and the faint warmth of summer. The lights surrounding the Training Ground shone white on the bluestone paving, stretching the children's shadows long, like a pack of restless little beasts.
Toyotomi Yinglang stood at the edge of the Training Ground, his hands clasped behind his back, his moon-white Kariginu fluttering gently in the night breeze. A faint smile rested on his lips as his gaze settled on the two five-year-olds in the arena.
"In the ring, injuries and deaths are inevitable." His voice was calm, yet every word was perfectly clear. "But I don't want to see you in intensive care, much less have you fight your way into the Underworld."
The implication was clear: no serious injuries, and certainly no deaths.
The children all understood.
Jilan nodded, Ryukōshi remained expressionless, Jin Zhiyin frowned slightly, Senrin hugged the sweet dew bottle tightly, Moro stayed silent, and Yōsa clenched both fists.
"Those of similar strength will fight." Toyotomi Yinglang swept his gaze over the children. "Liying, Chengkong. You two first."
Liying stepped out of the group, his golden hair gleaming softly beneath the lights, his One-Tomoe Sharingan turning slowly in his eyes. He was five, at the level of an ordinary Jonin, and his battle intelligence had already begun to stand out among his peers. His steps were steady and unhurried, each falling in the same rhythm, as though he were measuring the distance.
Chengkong stepped out from the other side, his black hair fluttering gently in the night breeze, his One-Tomoe Sharingan likewise turning slowly in his eyes. He was five, at the level of an ordinary Jonin, and the power of the Time-Stop Devil Fruit