Lower Shinobi.
Middle Shinobi.
Upper Shinobi.
Special Jōnin.
Kage.
And beyond that—figures whose strength bordered on legend.
In the ninja world, through relentless training, many could rise to become outstanding shinobi. Yet no matter how diligent one was, there existed a ceiling to that "outstanding" status. Only a rare few could step beyond it.
Conversely, there were those born with extraordinary advantages—individuals blessed by bloodlines and special inheritances. These people were destined to shine from the moment they stepped onto the battlefield.
They were the wielders of Kekkei Genkai.
And at this very moment, within the Chūnin Exam grounds, a talented shinobi with a Kekkei Genkai was being utterly overwhelmed—brutally so.
"Too slow."
"Watch the timing."
"When you use ninjutsu, your eyes shouldn't be on your hands—watch your opponent. Learn to predict."
Ryoma stood calmly in place, raising a single hand to block the girl's attack as if it were nothing.
The day before, Mei Terumi had agreed to accept his so-called special training. And tonight, Ryoma had finally begun.
He wasn't even using ninjutsu.
Even though he deliberately limited the strength of his Wood Clone, the result was still crushing. Each time Mei began forming seals, before her chakra could fully circulate, Ryoma was already beside her—knocking her down without mercy.
Bang!
Her body slammed heavily into the ground.
Mei's expression darkened as she struggled to rise, trying desperately to analyze the rhythm and pattern behind Ryoma's movements. But no matter how carefully she observed, no matter how much she adjusted her timing—
It was useless.
For two straight hours, Mei lost count of how many times she was thrown to the ground.
Her initial confidence shattered.
Her pride, once held high as a prodigy of Kirigakure, was ground into the dirt.
Ryoma spent those two hours making her understand one thing:
This was hell.
If this were a real battle to the death, she would have died a thousand times over already.
Finally, with her chakra completely exhausted, Mei could endure no more. She collapsed where she stood, her shoulders trembling as quiet sobs escaped her lips.
This training—far harsher than any mission or cultivation she had ever experienced—had stripped her bare. Everything she once relied on, her strength, her reputation, even her Kekkei Genkai, felt laughably fragile before Ryoma.
At this moment, Mei Terumi truly realized how weak she was.
"Waaah…"
Her composure finally broke.
Tears streamed down her face as she cried openly, kneeling on the ground. Anyone else would have rushed to comfort her—such a beautiful girl crying so helplessly was enough to stir pity in any heart.
Anyone else.
Ryoma merely stood to the side, watching with an indifferent gaze. He made no move to comfort her.
A strict teacher forges strong disciples.
Since he had decided to guide her, he had no intention of holding back. In the past, Kakashi and Obito had both been beaten bloody under his training. Mei was no exception.
Seeing that her crying showed no sign of stopping, Ryoma spoke coldly:
"Crying won't make you stronger."
This was not the time for empty sympathy.
Mei's talent was undeniable, but she relied far too heavily on her Kekkei Genkai. Her taijutsu, her combat awareness, her battlefield instincts—all of them were riddled with flaws.
Ryoma's goal was simple:
Make her see those flaws clearly.
Then force her to change.
Under his chilling gaze, Mei slowly stopped sobbing.
She now fully understood how terrifying the man before her truly was.
She wiped her tears roughly, as if trying to erase all weakness from herself. Her eyes, red and swollen, burned with a complex mix of humiliation, fear, and stubborn resolve.
This wasn't training.
It was unilateral abuse.
And yet… she was the one who had agreed to it.
"Alright," Ryoma said at last. "That's enough for today."
Mei's stamina and chakra were completely depleted. Continuing would only cause harm, not growth.
He gestured toward the side. "Come rest."
"Hmph!" Mei snorted, struggling to her feet. "Don't think being nice now will make me forget what you did."
Ryoma said nothing and turned away.
Watching his figure fade into the darkness, Mei hesitated only a moment before hurriedly following after him.
Night fell.
Stars glittered across the sky as faint smoke curled through the forest.
By the campfire, Mei stared unblinkingly at the roasted meat in Ryoma's hands, saliva unconsciously pooling in her mouth.
After such merciless training, her hunger was unbearable. Her stomach protested loudly.
"Here."
Ryoma handed her a large piece of meat, roasted to a perfect golden brown, rich with aroma.
This forest had been carefully selected after thorough investigation. Its ecosystem was stable—clean water, abundant wildlife—perfect for maintaining a shinobi's physical condition during extended training.
Mei accepted the meat silently.
For the first time that night, the firelight reflected softly in her eyes.
Of course, shinobi could also sustain themselves with soldier pills, but the taste of those things was something ordinary people simply couldn't endure.
After taking the meat from Ryoma's hand, Mei Terumi immediately opened her mouth and devoured a large chunk, eating like a refugee who had just escaped a famine.
As the rich flavor spread through her mouth and warmth filled her stomach, Mei felt that this meal might very well be the most delicious one she had ever eaten.
Only then did she notice that Ryoma himself wasn't eating at all.
Instead, he sat cross-legged on a rock nearby, quietly resting.
"…You're not eating?" Mei stopped mid-bite and tilted her head, looking at him with mild confusion.
"Don't mind me. Just eat until you're full," Ryoma replied calmly.
He didn't bother explaining that his body no longer required food—or that the one sitting here was merely a Wood Clone, which had no need to eat in the first place.
Naturally, Mei knew none of that.
To her, it looked like Ryoma was deliberately leaving the food to her.
Her head lowered slightly, and an almost imperceptible blush crept onto her face.
"So… this guy actually cares about me? Maybe he's not as terrible as I thought."
She finished the remaining meat in just a few bites, then let out a satisfied burp.
Immediately afterward, she froze.
Her eyes widened as she hurriedly covered her mouth, then looked up at the night sky and said seriously, "That was just an accident. Beautiful girls don't burp!"
Ryoma showed no reaction at all.
He remained seated, silent and unmoving, as if he hadn't heard a thing.
"Damn it… pretending to be aloof again," Mei snorted.
She flopped down onto the ground beside the campfire and promptly fell asleep.
Time passed quietly.
Suddenly, a subtle disturbance rippled through the surroundings.
Behind the mask, Ryoma's eyes snapped open, a sharp cold light flashing within them.
Whoosh—
Whoosh—
Whoosh—
The sound of air tearing apart rang out from every direction.
In the next instant, more than thirty shinobi emerged from the shadows, encircling the campfire from all sides.
Their movements were swift and precise, clearly well-trained.
Mei, who had been asleep moments earlier, sensed the danger immediately. Her eyes flew open as she sprang to her feet, chakra surging instinctively through her body.
The peaceful night shattered in an instant.
(End of Chapter)
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