Akira started complaining about the Ninja Academy again.
Today was Saturday—and there were still classes.
Wasn't this child abuse?
Elementary school students… well, little brats didn't have human rights. If there were any kind of "organization," Akira would have reported the Ninja Academy for abusing children…
Helplessly, he still had to go to school on Saturday—more miserable than a senior in their final year of high school.
Akira declared that if one day he became the principal of the Ninja Academy, he would absolutely… cancel even Sunday breaks and give only one day off per month.
Those who've been drenched in rain want to tear apart others' umbrellas…
That was human nature—not pettiness.
Carrying her small backpack, Kurenai Yuhi pouted so much she could hang an oil bottle from her lips. Her tone was sour and faintly resentful. "Akira, why is your brain so easy to use? Why can you learn such complicated things after seeing them only once…?"
Yesterday she had been struck again.
That pervert Akira—after watching Father demonstrate the basic taijutsu once, he could already imitate it decently.
As for her, she had watched several times and only remembered part of it.
They both had one brain—why was the gap so big?
Akira couldn't explain it. He had cheats enabled. Could a cheater be ordinary?
He simply spread his hands. "Is there a possibility that you're just too dumb?"
This time, Kurenai didn't retort. She only let out a small sigh, carrying a subtle sense of having seen through worldly matters. "Sigh…"
Compared to Akira, she really did seem a bit dumb…
"Kurenai, that attitude won't do." Akira felt this was unacceptable. A six-year-old child shouldn't be self-deprecating.
He completely forgot that he was the one who had struck her just now…
Akira decisively poured her a bowl of chicken soup for the soul. "No matter what difficulties you encounter, don't be afraid. Face them with a smile. The best way to eliminate fear is to face fear. Persist—that is victory! Come on, Aoli Gei!!"
"..." Kurenai suddenly felt second-hand embarrassment. Her toes curled inside her shoes. She wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say…
Akira had another episode. Recently, the frequency seemed quite high…
Was there a cure?
"If you don't respond, I'll feel very awkward, okay? I even encouraged you," Akira said helplessly. Silence had many meanings. Getting no response was awkward.
Kurenai pursed her lips. "Akira, how about we find time to see a doctor? For your bad habit—see if it can be cured!"
Akira shot her a sidelong glance. "What nonsense are you talking about? I'm not sick. Why would I see a doctor?"
"You are!"
"I'm not!"
While chatting idly, the two quickly arrived at the Ninja Academy.
They weren't late.
But someone was. The King of Tardiness, Obito Uchiha—late seven or eight times a week—once again used the same excuse: helping an old grandma cross the street.
Wasn't it basically confirmed by now?
That old grandma was White Zetsu in disguise. Uchiha Madara had already set his sights on Obito so early—truly deep scheming.
Today was still theory class—learning mathematical knowledge about projectile trajectories in ninja tool throwing.
Some students scratched their heads, faces pale; others looked calm and composed.
You could tell the difference between poor students and top students just from this.
One class period passed quickly.
"Ring ring ring—" The dismissal bell rang.
Obito sprang up from his seat and rushed over to Akira, wearing the relaxed expression of someone who had just survived torture. "Akira, I brought the money. Where's your 'practice questions'?"
A customer at the door—greet with a smile.
Akira beamed warmly. "Money in one hand, goods in the other. Don't worry—there are no middlemen here."
"Here!" Obito pulled out quite a few coins from his small wallet and placed them on Akira's desk, excitement in his voice. "Quick, quick, let me see what 'practice questions' are!"
This drew Kurenai's sidelong glance. Her gaze was extremely strange. She truly felt Obito was a warrior!
Akira wasn't in a hurry. His tone became serious. "Let's be clear first—I don't accept returns or refunds. Especially not refunds. Once the deal is done, it's final. If you agree, we proceed."
Obito thought for a moment and asked, "Can practice questions really improve my written exam scores?"
Akira nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't deceive a classmate."
"Alright then. The money's yours."
"So generous, boss!"
After pocketing the coins, Akira took out a prepared notebook from his bag and handed it over with a smile. "Looking forward to our next cooperation!"
"If it works…" Obito replied casually and flipped open the notebook.
The moment he looked, he froze.
Th-this-this…
What was this?!
Familiar numbers, familiar words—but when combined together, they made him completely confused.
Given wind speed, the weight of the senbon, the distance between person and target, the person's strength, the velocity of the thrown senbon…
Finally asking: at what angle and how much force is needed for the senbon to hit the bullseye…
This part he could barely understand. After that, it felt like reading a heavenly book…
And what were those symbols?!
Some kind of ninjutsu formula symbols?
Obito looked suspiciously at Akira. "This is what you call practice questions? It looks similar to what Teacher Oda teaches us in theory class—but also different? Is this really useful?"
"Of course it's similar. They're basically the same type of questions. Otherwise, how would it be called practice?" Akira said matter-of-factly, rubbing his thumb and index finger together to indicate a tiny amount. "It's just slightly harder. The further you go, the harder it gets."
"As for those symbols, the last page explains them. Go figure it out yourself. Over a hundred questions—more quantity, no extra charge."
"Oh, and I run an honest business. If you don't understand, you can come ask me. Two after-sales services included!"
Akira patted his chest confidently. "Trust me. As long as you finish these questions—or even just part of them—and understand the principles, your grades will definitely rise!"
In his previous life, six- or seven-year-old kids couldn't even fully recognize characters. Yet in this world, they were already learning mathematical theory about projectile trajectories…
They hadn't even started two-digit addition and subtraction, yet they were attacking higher-difficulty math problems. Students in this world were truly miserable!
Oh well. It wasn't him who was miserable—so it didn't matter.
Teacher Oda's questions were too shallow—elementary level. Akira could solve them at a glance without even thinking.
As for whether Obito could understand—probably yes.
Even though Kurenai would shout "What kind of terrible questions are these?!" she could still solve some of the simpler ones…
"Actually, once you understand the logic, it's not hard at all. Obito, I believe in you!" Kurenai chimed in at this moment. Having someone suffer with her made her happy.
She couldn't be the only one tasting the bitterness of practice questions!
"Alright… I'll try!" Obito, hearing Kurenai say that, ultimately let the desire to improve his grades and make Rin Nohara look at him differently take the upper hand.
If practice questions could improve his written scores—he'd practice!
He had to raise his written exam scores and make Rin see him in a new light!
Then…
Then…
His face went numb.
For the first time in his life, he experienced the pain of grinding practice questions.
At the beginning, it wasn't hard—almost the same as the teacher's questions, just phrased differently. He could barely solve them.
Later on, the more he looked, the more exhausted he felt. Even squeezing his brain dry, he couldn't figure out the answers…
The painful mask returned to his face.
Spending money to buy this—wasn't he just paying to suffer?!
But they had already agreed—no returns or refunds. He couldn't be someone without integrity.
Rin had heard what he said earlier. No matter how painful it was, he could only grit his teeth and endure…
Finally—
Obito collapsed.
"Ahhh! What kind of terrible questions are these?!!"
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