A great ninja war is a world-level event.
Even if the battlefield isn't in your own country—and is extremely far away—it still draws attention from the entire shinobi continent, and even overseas nations.
When something big happens on the battlefield, the news spreads across the whole shinobi world at lightning speed.
The person at the center of that event instantly becomes the topic everyone is talking about.
Anyone who accomplishes something major in a ninja war—even if they were a complete nobody before—can rapidly become a famous figure known across the shinobi world.
The Konoha Sannin and the White Fang aren't the best examples.
Before fighting Hanzō, and before killing Chiyo's son and daughter-in-law, they were already elite jōnin listed in every nation's shinobi handbook—commanders on two fronts, no less.
The best example is Might Duy from canon's Third Great Ninja War.
He was only a genin, but with one Eight Gates burst he nearly wiped out the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist—seven ace combatants. The survivors spread the Eight Gates' name to every corner of the shinobi world.
From then on, the Eight Gates became universally known.
Its fame was so huge that Duy's son, Might Guy—who also mastered the Eight Gates—could later become one of Konoha's main ace forces purely through taijutsu, even without mastering two or more nature transformations and despite being weak at ninjutsu.
Another similar case is Uchiha Shisui, who created Phantom Body Flicker.
Despite having overwhelmingly strong genjutsu, he earned the title "Shisui of the Body Flicker," and his fame likewise became nearly universal.
And then there's Minato Namikaze, who single-handedly killed dozens of Iwa ninja and became the Third Great Ninja War's breakout super rookie in an instant.
Right now, Gojo Yoru is walking Minato's path—only with even more weight behind it.
First he injured the salamander and forcefully stepped onto the shinobi world's grand stage.
At that time, he was just a rising new star.
Because "injuring" isn't "killing," and ninja combat is an information war.
Many people believed Yoru had only managed to hurt the salamander by relying on the first-encounter surprise of Flying Thunder God.
Once his intelligence was exposed, repeating that feat should be nearly impossible.
The next four months seemed to confirm their guess.
Even though Yoru had Flying Thunder God, he didn't become the star of the probing phase, and no more news of him taking action surfaced.
It looked like he was simply too weak, and Konoha had tucked him away under protection.
But no one expected that when Yoru finally acted again, he would immediately produce a super S-rank achievement:
Instant-killing Sunagakure's intelligence king and fifty-four Anbu.
That was a real, undeniable feat—and it happened after Flying Thunder God was already public.
Anyone who saw the photo couldn't help but feel a chill.
What kind of speed—what kind of power—could make an elder of a Five Great Village and fifty-four high-tier combatants die dismembered without even the chance to react or counterattack?
Could the Second Hokage—who invented Flying Thunder God—do that?
Did he ever produce a record like that?
Just as Might Duy made the Eight Gates famous, Yoru's renewed rise also pushed Flying Thunder God back to the top, turning it once again into a super S-rank secret known by everyone.
And it even hinted at surpassing its creator.
If Yoru racks up a few more great merits with Flying Thunder God, and enough time passes, Senju Tobirama might "lose the copyright"—and people may start calling it "Black Flash's Flying Thunder God."
The gradually spreading title "Fastest in the Shinobi World" is the greatest recognition of Yoru's strength.
The battlefield's situation is quietly changing.
Chiyo is about to go berserk.
Hanzō and Ōnoki, having learned from Ebizō's death, are taking different countermeasures.
And this news naturally reached someone's ears.
"Madara-sama… that brat with Flying Thunder God has done something big again—"
In a dim underground space, White Zetsu's upper body rose from the earth and told Uchiha Madara about Yoru's instant-kill of fifty-five Sand ninja.
At the same time, it handed Madara the photo—a photo that would soon be mass-printed by newspapers and spread across the entire shinobi world within days.
Madara wasn't interested in the first part. A technique that could kill Izuna—if it couldn't reach this level, Tobirama wouldn't even deserve to be noticed by him.
But when Madara saw the photo, the three-tomoe Sharingan in his eyes narrowed slightly.
Then he looked at White Zetsu.
"Did you see that brat strike?"
"No."
White Zetsu shook its head, helpless. "Just like you said, Madara-sama—we can't track a Flying Thunder God user. The moment we finally find his position, he teleports, and we have to search again."
"We're afraid he'll notice us, and we don't dare plant Spore Technique on him."
Madara straightened a little, holding the photo with both hands. His Sharingan's dynamic vision ignored the darkness, absorbing every detail.
A few seconds later, he asked again.
"During your previous surveillance… were you discovered?"
"Absolutely not," White Zetsu swore.
"Then it isn't about sensing… but we still must be careful," Madara said coldly. "Checking a secret base and laying barriers is basic shinobi common sense. They were Sunagakure's intelligence king, plus Anbu skilled in reconnaissance and assassination—they wouldn't make such a low-level mistake."
"Yet the photo shows Flying Thunder God formulas all over the ground."
"That means one of three things."
"Either that brat has an infiltration and stealth ability so strong—like your Hiding Like a Mole Technique—that he can ignore barriers and detection, plant formulas under their feet, and then instant-kill them with Flying Thunder God and Flying Thunder God Slash."
"Or… his Flying Thunder God no longer needs formula anchors, and he can teleport objects from a distance."
"Or—this was staged afterward."
Madara glanced at the photo again, eyes deep.
"He's using Flying Thunder God and Flying Thunder God Slash to hide another ability."
"That hidden ability is the true key to why he could instant-kill them."
No matter which it was, it successfully caught Madara's interest.
White Zetsu's eyes widened, panic rising.
"You're kidding—he has an ability like our Hiding Like a Mole?! Then… have we actually been discovered, and he's just pretending not to know?"
"Hiding Like a Mole is your unique ability," Madara said. "Unless he awakened Wood Release, it's impossible for him to detect you when you're merged with earth and vegetation."
"It's probably a secret technique similar to Invisibility Release, or a bloodline limit."
"If it were only those, there'd be no need to hide. Konoha spreading this photo means plenty of clever people will notice what's strange and will take countermeasures."
"The Rain brat may have already noticed his chakra-concealment ability months ago."
"He's hiding something bigger—maybe that's why that monkey values him so much and is raising him as the new generation's model."
Madara considered it, then decided against ordering White Zetsu to monitor Yoru—pointless.
If too many Zetsu were involved, and an accident happened and the brat noticed them, it might disrupt his plans.
So Madara ordered:
"Increase surveillance on the Land of Rain. If that brat enters Amegakure, watch him closely."
"He's closely tied to the current Nine-Tails jinchūriki and may have a natural fondness for redheads. Don't let him approach Nagato. If necessary, have Obito attach to someone and stop him."
White Zetsu suggested, "Should we have Obito kill him?"
"Don't offer opinions if you don't have a brain," Madara snapped. "He's an agility-type. Wood Release has obvious wind-up. Obito wouldn't even finish casting before the brat disappears."
Having idiots like this as subordinates really did tire Madara out sometimes.
"Do as I instructed. From now on, anything involving that brat—report it to me."
Madara waved a hand, closed his eyes again, and used the Demonic Statue to continue extending his life.
Madara didn't notice that a figure inside the Demonic Statue—one that occasionally used Yin–Yang Release through the tubes to influence his will—had heard everything.
That figure was Kaguya's third child: Black Zetsu—besides Isshiki, Kaguya, and the sages of the three holy lands, the third thousand-year-old schemer of the shinobi world.
Like Madara, Black Zetsu wasn't interested in Yoru killing fifty-five Sand ninja.
That was just low-tier creatures squabbling.
If the method hadn't involved space–time—Flying Thunder God—Black Zetsu wouldn't even have listened.
But Madara's analysis drew his attention.
The first two possibilities would make Yoru extremely troublesome.
And the last possibility made Yoru reek of mystery.
More importantly: Yoru's front was the border line facing the Land of Rain. Once the war entered its next stage, he might enter Amegakure—and the chance of him encountering Nagato would not be low.
A troublesome, secret-bearing person approaching the Rinnegan was something Black Zetsu absolutely could not allow.
After all, he'd spent a thousand years, manipulating who-knows-how-many generations of Indra reincarnations, finally waiting for this era's Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama.
If something happened to the Rinnegan, Black Zetsu didn't know how many more years he'd have to wait for another pair as outstanding as Madara and Hashirama.
So Black Zetsu decided to move personally—go observe what Yoru really was.
…
Yoru had no idea he'd attracted Madara's interest, and that the shinobi world's No. 1 ancient schemer had fixed his sights on him.
Hiruzen told him to rest a few days, and he genuinely went on leave.
Over those days, he teleported the Sannin back to the border base, then bounced between Konoha and the hot-spring town.
The "hot-spring town" was a major pleasure district in the northeast of the Land of Fire.
Despite the name, it was basically like Tanzaku Town in the southwest—casinos, hotels, and entertainment everywhere. It was just closer to the Land of Hot Water, so the hot-spring business was more developed.
This was where Konan now lived.
From the moment Yoru decided to train Konan, he formed an idea.
Months later, that idea had become a plan.
Konan was the core of it—Yoru's hidden trump card.
To keep that card concealed, aside from the first three days, every time Yoru came to meet Konan or teach her in populated areas, he disguised himself.
Only inside the warded home he rented and set up did he remove the disguise.
And when checking Konan's progress, he didn't do it in the hot-spring town; he took her to uninhabited zones in other countries.
After four months, Konan had gone from a normal civilian to a trainee ninja.
In canon, she could develop a secret technique from a hobby—so her chakra control was extraordinary from the start.
With Yoru's protection, she learned tree-climbing, then water-walking, and mastered Body Flicker in two months.
Once her chakra met the requirement, she began learning the Academy basics; now she'd learned Transformation Technique too.
That growth rate couldn't compare to Nagato or Uzumaki Kushina—monsters with Kage-level potential.
But if placed in any Five Great Village's Academy, she'd absolutely be called a genius.
Power wasn't her biggest change.
Her biggest change was her spirit.
With Yoru's "rich sponsor" lifestyle, a professional nutrition plan, and a strict training schedule—three meals a day, early sleep and wake, reading and training—Konan's cheeks had turned soft and fair. That baby fat felt completely different from Kushina's round face, and Yoru couldn't stop himself from pinching it.
Every time Yoru visited, besides checking progress and teaching basics, he also explained shinobi world common knowledge, power tiers, and secrets known only to a handful—or to a transmigrator like him—expanding Konan's horizons.
As her understanding grew, her gaze and bearing slowly shed childishness.
Her increased mental energy improved chakra production; combined with her unusual physical vitality, her chakra pool rose noticeably.
Yoru was satisfied.
Given more time, he could start teaching her about bloodline limits and secret techniques.
When that day came, he'd "mix in" personal material—Jiraiya's experience developing secret techniques.
Once Konan hit a bottleneck, and she was alone at home folding paper to pass the time, she would inevitably start experimenting.
Paper Style would be born naturally.
Konan's growth was already fast.
Anyone who becomes Kage-level is never ordinary—they just need guidance.
But compared to Kushina, Konan's light was still dim.
Not just Konan—aside from Nagato, who would eventually master six nature transformations in a year, the young geniuses of these generations were "roadside strays" next to Kushina.
Konoha 35, August 18.
At the abandoned training ground, Yoru and Kushina finally had a long-overdue no-rules duel.
And—he got absolutely mauled.
Without using space–time chakra, Yoru rated as a veteran chūnin in a sensor's evaluation.
At eleven years old, veteran chūnin strength was already excellent.
Even Yahiko, after three years under Jiraiya, was around that level—arguably worse than Yoru.
After all, Yahiko didn't have Uzumaki sealing arts, nor an unsealed Rasengan.
Because Yoru's chakra pool was limited, Fire Release: Rasengan was basically his current ceiling.
As for the "monster strength" Kushina learned from Tsunade—Yoru didn't qualify to train it.
It was chakra-burst control, which required massive chakra as thrust.
Back when Kushina didn't have it, Yoru still had to dodge her hits.
Now that she had it, even dodging became difficult.
The burst chakra was like a storm, creating brief stun effects on Yoru.
In taijutsu, Yoru was completely outclassed.
If he could use a blade, he could easily one-shot her—but he'd be cheating. He'd be like Hanzō: the natural counter to anyone with obvious wind-up.
Genjutsu-wise, Yoru had little talent.
Or rather, his genjutsu aptitude still wasn't enough to learn the forbidden Bringer-of-Darkness Technique.
With only basic genjutsu, he couldn't control Kushina at all.
Kushina, with chakra burst, didn't even need hand signs—she could break Yoru's genjutsu easily.
Fortunately, she wasn't a genjutsu specialist either. And because Yoru had Lightning Release nature transformation, her basic genjutsu was useless on him.
As for ninjutsu—
"Big Ball Rasengan!"
Watching Kushina leap into the air, lift a swirling sphere the size of five basketballs, and slam it toward him, Yoru's eyes flashed with genuine amazement.
For a moment, he felt like he was seeing the prophesied child's silhouette in her.
The old hype came rushing back.
He didn't hesitate. He Body Flickered away.
Boom—!
The Big Ball Rasengan detonated, carving a massive meteor crater into the ground, dust blasting skyward.
"Cough, cough—!"
From the dust, Kushina climbed out—despite being the caster, she looked completely gray and grimy. She stared at Yoru and grinned smugly.
"So? Surprised?"
"I was really surprised," Yoru praised honestly. "But then I remembered it was you, and suddenly it felt… inevitable."
Kushina's grin grew even wider.
"I wanted to make it bigger, but my chakra control and monster strength still aren't there yet. Later I'll show you the complete version and make you jealous, Mr. Inventor."
"I know what the complete version looks like," Yoru said, unable to resist needling her. "I even named it: Super Big Ball Rasengan."
"Come back and brag when you learn Rasenshuriken."
"Hmph! If Big Ball Rasengan doesn't stop me, Rasenshuriken won't take long either!"
Then she looked at him with a provocative grin.
"Trash-talk Yoru, your strength sucks. You won't go in close, genjutsu doesn't work, and your ninjutsu needs me to hold back. If I don't even use shadow clones to cast elemental jutsu, all you can do is run, right?"
Smack!
A palm cracked onto Kushina's head. She stumbled forward, nearly falling.
"Give you an inch and you start a dye shop," Yoru snapped. "On a real battlefield, you'd be dead in one swing."
"Then don't use Flying Thunder God!" Kushina growled, clutching her head.
Yoru shot back, "Then you don't use substitutions, elemental jutsu, monstrous strength, Rasengan, or sealing."
Kushina immediately choked on her own words, face going red. With the anti-gravity red hair flaring up, she looked like a self-propelled tomato.
Yoru wore the same smug smile and crooked a finger at her.
"Why bare your teeth? If you're mad, come hit me."
"Stop running and I'll kill you!"
She charged—only to be led around like a dog by Yoru.
When night fell, Gojo's house was warm and bright.
Earlier she'd been a raging chili pepper; now Kushina was lively in the kitchen. Under Yoru's guidance, she finally made a decent-looking cake.
"Yoru, happy birthday. You're a year older."
Yes—today was Yoru's birthday.
Before he could thank her, Kushina leaned close with a wicked grin.
"If the two of us walked down the street, who would guess you're actually a month younger than me?"
"Smiling that deviously—what are you about to say?"
"Yoru. Call me 'Onee-san.'"
She revealed her plot.
But Yoru didn't get angry at all. He nodded easily.
"Sure. Equal exchange: you call me 'dad,' and I'll call you 'onee-san.'"
"Trash-mouth Yoru! Your mouth is still disgusting!"
Kushina completely lost.
They ate the first slice of cake, then—just like last year—started a full cake war.
Because it was wartime, Konoha had temporarily shut down the night market.
After cleaning up, Yoru walked Kushina back to the "Big Pillar's" mansion.
At 9 p.m., Yoru lay on his bed with hands behind his head, eyes full of expectation as he stared at the ceiling.
Minute by minute, his hope turned into disappointment.
When midnight passed and a new day began, the familiar pre-evolution symptoms still didn't arrive—no irregular heartbeat, no rising temperature, no drum-like pounding in his chest.
"…So it really didn't come again. Looks like next year is the decisive moment."
Months ago, Yoru had formed a theory: evolution might be tied to the body's cell-replacement cycle.
That birthday evolution at age six left only some cells able to extract space–time force.
If it truly followed a precise cycle, maybe it was once every six years.
If next year still brought nothing, then his theory was wrong—those cells were simply all he had.
Breaking the capacity limit would rely on the Strength of a Hundred Seal—or on scientific body modification.
If not for that brief inner-vision of a black heart, and his gut instinct… he might accept that.
But that flash, that black heart, and his intuition told him: it would come again. It had to.
The disappointment left him sleepless for hours; he didn't fall asleep until 4 a.m.
And while he rested, the battlefield's situation had already shifted.
~~~
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