Chapter 103: Learning How to Discern the Truth of Information
Every sentence in those notes was born from direct observation, not merely copied from a teacher or book. There were faint sweat stains at the corners of the pages—a testament that this knowledge had been forged under the scorching heat of field training, not in the comfort of a study desk.
Every scenario, every possibility, was dissected with painstaking precision. Even the subtlest facial expressions and minute gestures were analyzed to uncover an enemy's true intentions.
A faint smile that appeared just a fraction of a second too quickly, eyes that shifted ever so slightly an instant before striking, or even a finger tapping against a weapon's hilt—these, to Souta, were secret codes that could mean the difference between life and death.
And so, two months passed.
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Then came the eleventh month, when Souta and the other students began learning the art of gathering intelligence and espionage—a craft that thrived in the shadows, far more dangerous than any open physical battle.
They were taught how to slip quietly into places unseen, to disguise themselves so thoroughly that even someone who saw them daily would fail to recognize them, and to blend seamlessly into their surroundings in order to extract valuable information from behind seemingly trivial conversations.
They learned to identify reliable sources, to separate fact from rumor, and to discover hidden locations from mere fragments of clues that would mean nothing to the average person—a faint footprint in muddy ground, an oil stain at the edge of a door, or a lingering trace of perfume drifting in the air.
Souta absorbed all of this over the span of just over a month. It wasn't a long period, but it was dense, suffocating, and laced with unrelenting pressure—pressure that gnawed at both his physical stamina and mental resolve, shaping him in ways subtle yet undeniable.
Often, Souta's face was smeared with black soot from disguise training, forcing him to merge with the color of the midnight shadows. There were moments when he would crawl between pools of darkness, moving so silently it seemed as though his feet never truly touched the earth.
There were times when he peered through the gap in a tattered curtain, its fabric swaying faintly in the breeze, watching the world from a slit that concealed his entire body. One night, he crouched in the corner of a dark alley, listening to the hushed whispers of two strangers while holding his breath, forcing his body to remain perfectly still even as a rat scurried past his foot.
His ears were now trained to recognize sound patterns—to distinguish lies from sincerity purely by tone, to detect the subtle rhythm in a voice that betrayed doubt even when hidden beneath careful words.
This training was not merely about physical skill or sharp eyesight. It was the art of erasing one's existence amid a crowd, of becoming a presence that was there yet unseen, of knowing everything without a single soul realizing that Souta knew.
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Then came the day before the Graduation Exam—the final, most decisive test—set to begin tomorrow and last for an entire week without a single moment of reprieve.
That afternoon, the sky stretched wide and open, painted in a wash of golden-orange light crawling across the horizon—beautiful, yet carrying the quiet weight of a warning that still managed to pierce the heart.
The air carried the scent of dry leaves and warm earth, yet there was also an invisible heaviness hanging in the atmosphere—heavier than the sky before a thunderstorm. There was no lightning, no looming tempest, but the pressure pressed down on every student's chest, making it hard to breathe, as though they all stood at the very edge of a yawning abyss.
All the students walked slowly toward their homes like soldiers marching to the battlefield, their steps synchronized yet weighed down. There were no lighthearted jokes, no casual murmurs—only the sound of shoes striking the ground and the deep, steady rhythm of breaths, each carrying its own private burden.
Some kept their heads bowed, others stared blankly ahead, while a few clenched their fists now and then, channeling unspoken anxiety into their grip. They conserved their words to preserve their strength, guarding their focus, as though even a single sentence could shatter the concentration they had built up over the course of the entire year.
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Chapter 104: Preparing to Face the Graduation Exam
Meanwhile, Souta stood in the upstairs room of his apartment, silent, his gaze fixed on the darkening sky beyond the window. The silhouette of the distant village melted into the black shroud of night, and among the peaks, the moon began its slow ascent—like a silent guardian watching the world from afar.
Its silvery glow reflected in Souta's eyes, now filled with a cold anxiety. His hands gripped the iron window railing tightly, so tightly that his knuckles turned pale, the chill of the metal no match for the deeper cold that spread through his chest.
And for the first time since the beginning of that year—Souta felt himself tremble. Not out of fear. Not out of doubt. But because of the weight of everything he had learned, everything he had sacrificed, and everything that was now about to be tested in the single week ahead. A test that would not only measure his abilities, but also decide who he would be when all of this was over.
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The next morning, Souta woke unusually early—long before the sunlight could fully pierce through the thin gap in his window curtains. The morning air of Sunagakure was cold and dry, yet it carried a faint scent of the desert mingled with the last traces of night's dew.
His room was still steeped in silence, the only sounds being the steady ticking of the clock and the faint whisper of wind brushing against the outer walls of the apartment.
As Souta slowly opened his eyes, he allowed his gaze to adjust to the dim light. His breath appeared in faint wisps in the cold air, dissolving as if carrying away the remnants of sleep. With a movement that was both sluggish and deliberate, he pushed aside the thin blanket wrapped around his body.
The soles of his feet touched the cold floor, making his brows knit slightly. Lifting both arms to stretch, his joints gave a small, satisfying pop.
He stepped out of his room, passing through the still-empty living area. Simple furnishings—a wooden chair, a small neatly arranged table—were the first things he passed.
A faint morning light filtered through the living room window, casting thin stripes across the wooden floor. Souta's footsteps were measured and calm, echoing lightly in the quiet space.
Heading toward the bathroom, he felt the air grow slightly more humid. Turning the tap, the sound of running water filled the small room. Souta let the cold water wash over his face and body, erasing the last hints of drowsiness.
The freshness seeped into his skin, sharpening his senses. After finishing his bath, Souta returned to his room, drying himself with a towel that felt pleasantly warm from the lingering steam. His movements were steady and unhurried, like someone well-accustomed to preparing himself for important days.
Once dry, he put on the clothes he had laid out the night before—neat, but simple attire.
There was a spark of determination in his eyes, though his lips remained in a neutral line. Leaving his room again, this time he made his way to the kitchen directly opposite the bathroom door.
In that small kitchen, a hint of warmth filled the air as soon as Souta lit the stove. The aroma of instant noodles soon spread through the space, steam curling up from the pot and making the air feel a little more comfortable.
From time to time, he stirred the noodles with wooden chopsticks, listening to the rhythmic bubbling of boiling water. While waiting for the noodles to cook, Souta poured himself a glass of cold milk from the bottle in the fridge. Sip by sip, he drank it, feeling the refreshing chill slide down his throat.
Because today marked the first day of the graduation exam, Souta knew he had to be fully prepared and committed for the days ahead. His mind was focused, leaving no room for distractions.
Yes, the exam was divided into three stages.
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