Chapter 9: Strong Fist Lv2 and the First Day of School

When Shingo and Might Duy delivered the wolf carcasses to the mission desk, the sun had not yet completely set, and the hall remained a bustling hub of activity.

Shinobi who had just returned from outside the village were busy logging their mission reports, while a number of administrative ninja sorted through stacks of documents.

At that moment, the sight of two blood-spattered figures carrying dead wolves through the entrance naturally drew immediate attention. Especially since one of them was Might Duy.

"Isn't that Duy? What kind of mission did he take today, clearing out a wolf pack?"

"And he's even got a little sidekick tagging along with that weirdo."

Scattered murmurs of discussion rippled across the room, carried out without any attempt to hide from Duy.

Duy simply acted as though he heard nothing, continuing to shoulder the wolf carcass straight toward the low-ranking mission registration desk. Behind the long wooden counter, a young man with short gray hair was spinning a pen while blankly staring at a pile of paperwork in front of him. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, giving him a perpetually sleep-deprived look.

The man, Morikawa Ryōsuke, had graduated a few years before Duy, but he was also still a genin. Right now, he was tasked with handling C-rank and D-rank mission registrations at the hall.

Catching sight of Duy, Ryōsuke blinked in surprise before raising his head.

"Yo, Duy. How come you're showing up at this hour today?"

He glanced down at the wolf carcasses dumped near the counter, scratching his head in confusion. "Huh? Was there a beast-clearing mission scheduled recently? How do I not remember that?"

"Ryōsuke, I'm not here to turn in a mission today." Duy brushed the dust off his shoulder and pointed toward Shingo. "It's me and Shingo, this kid here. We ran into these wolves while training in the eastern forest."

"They weren't acting like normal animals. Their eyes were terrifyingly red, and even though they were heavily injured, they had no intention of fleeing and just kept lunging at us. So we brought them here so you all could take a look and figure out what's going on."

Ryōsuke rounded the long desk and squatted beside the wolf carcasses, reaching out to peel back the eyelid of one of the beasts. The dark red eyeball exposed under the harsh lights of the hall carried an ineffable, uncanny quality.

"They're definitely abnormal. You two didn't get hurt, did you?"

"Nope! Don't worry, neither Shingo nor I got a scratch. A tiny little accident like this can't extinguish the burning passion of youth!"

The corner of Ryōsuke's twitching mouth tightened. Even after knowing him for many years, he still felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment whenever Duy brought up youth in public.

"Right, as long as you're fine. Hang on here for a second, I'll go fetch someone from the Medical Corps to take a look. Oh, right, Tsunade-sama just finished turning in a mission, she should still be around. I'll go ask if she can drop by."

Before long, Ryōsuke returned accompanied by a blonde kunoichi.

Tsunade wore a gray combat uniform layered beneath Konoha's standard-issue green flak jacket, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She moved with rapid, purposeful strides, exuding an aura of brisk, decisive efficiency.

She glanced briefly at Duy, then at Shingo. Noting that neither of them bore any signs of injury, she skipped the pleasantries, walked straight up to the wolf carcasses, squatted down, and began her inspection.

Taking advantage of the moment, Shingo cast a careful evaluation at the future Fifth Hokage.

Doing the math, Tsunade should be just turning eighteen right now. Her features still carried the sharp, youthful edge of a burgeoning kunoichi, and her physical stature was vastly different from her later years. Furthermore, looking at her bare forehead, the Yin Seal had clearly not been completed or developed yet.

Upon seeing the bloodshot eyes, Tsunade's tense expression relaxed a fraction.

She then pressed her palm against the side of a wolf's neck. Pale green chakra bloomed from her palm, spreading into a web-like emerald glow across her five fingers.

A moment later, Tsunade withdrew her hand and spoke concisely.

"They were likely just provoked by some external stimulus. Nothing to worry about too much, just make sure they get sent over to the Konoha Hospital for a thorough examination later. Also, tell… never mind, I'll talk to the old man myself later."

After giving her instructions to Ryōsuke, Tsunade turned her attention back to Might Duy. "Good work. But next time you run into abnormalities like this, take them straight to the Military Police Force or the Medical Corps; don't just haul them into the main hall on your shoulders."

Hearing this, Duy rubbed the back of his head with an embarrassed, goofy laugh. "Understood, Tsunade-sama!"

When the two stepped out of the mission desk, their pockets were heavier by the bounty for a D-rank mission.

The Konoha mission hall routinely kept standing assignments on record; alongside regular duties like sanitation cleanup in designated zones or perimeter patrols, there were tasks dedicated to reporting anomalies inside and outside the village. If the intelligence provided was verified as genuine and valuable, a reward commensurate with the information's worth would be issued as mission bounty.

Shingo opened his coin pouch to check, a full ten thousand ryō.

Faced with this unexpected windfall, the two decided to celebrate.

Ultimately, they made their way over to Ramen Ichiraku at the street corner.

Just as the proprietor finished handing a brimming bowl of noodles to a customer with a polite "Please enjoy," he spotted Shingo walking through the door.

"Ah, Shingo! Come on in, what'll you have? Bandai-jisan's treating tonight."

He greeted Shingo warmly while using a clean, crisp white cloth to wipe down the counter.

Ever since Shingo had moved to Kitaki Street, Bandai would always bring home an extra, generously portioned bowl of ramen for Shingo whenever he closed up the shop for the evening. Years ago, fleeing the ravages of war, he had brought his family to settle in Konoha and opened this ramen shop right at the street corner. With his authentic culinary skills, honest character, and a level of cleanliness visible to every customer, his shop had quickly gained a bustling clientele.

At that moment, Bandai's young son, Teuchi, was busy kneading dough with fierce concentration in the back kitchen. Seeing this, Shingo chose not to disturb him.

"Thanks, Ojisan, but you don't have to treat me today."

Shingo fished two hundred ryō from his coin pouch and laid it flat on the counter. "I just collected a mission bounty. Two deluxe ramen bowls, please."

…

Over the next month, Shingo and Might Duy encountered no more feral beasts.

Their training continued as scheduled. In the early mornings, Shingo frequently joined Duy to take on various D-rank and C-rank tasks. Of course, since Shingo wasn't an official shinobi yet, the missions were officially accepted by Duy, with Shingo simply assisting in their completion.

Guy had gifted all of his old training weights to Shingo. While those weights had long become too light for Duy, they were more than heavy enough for Shingo.

Pulling weeds, moving cargo, delivering letters, dredging riverbeds, all while weighed down.

Though seemingly trivial chores, they were phenomenal for tempering physical endurance. Shingo felt that his arrangement with Duy was remarkably similar to Master Roshi training young Goku by making him deliver milk and plow fields with a turtle shell strapped to his back.

Once the tasks wrapped up, the pair would dive straight into their pre-arranged training routine.

First came grueling physical conditioning and strength workouts, followed by Duy's Strong Fist masterclass.

Once Shingo had mastered the core forms and movements of the Strong Fist, the study sessions smoothly transitioned into sparring matches. Although Shingo still fell short of Duy in raw strength, speed, combat experience, and overall mastery of the Strong Fist, the presence of his Mind's Eye allowed him to pull off unexpected, game-changing maneuvers mid-combat.

Time and again, Shingo's unorthodox, highly unconventional strike decisions yielded astonishing results, providing Duy with a wealth of fresh insights and inspiration.

A month of arduous training also added a brand-new skill to Shingo's general skills panel:

[Strong Fist Lv2 (31/200)]

Judging by its level, it was now on par with Shingo's Gentle Fist, with comparable proficiency.

This meant Shingo had successfully bridged the gap left by the absence of his Byakugan, neutralizing the handicap that had previously prevented him from utilizing the Gentle Fist effectively in chaotic combat.

During this month, Shingo trained hard and ate heartily. Coupled with the stacked attribute bonuses from his Warrior class, his height shot up noticeably over the course of a few weeks.

His old clothes, already snug to begin with, had suffered heavy wear and tear from high-intensity training. On the eve of the school term, Shingo made a deliberate trip to a clothing store to purchase a new wardrobe.

Although Duy passionately recommended his signature green spandex jumpsuit, insisting it was breathable, durable, highly flexible, and cheap, the sheer embarrassment of it was a psychological hurdle Shingo simply could not clear.

In the end, he settled on a black short-sleeved top that hugged his frame without restricting movement, paired with loose gray trousers secured tightly at the ankles with binding straps.

Amidst Duy 's deeply sympathetic sigh of "What a waste," Shingo remained entirely unbothered, purchasing four identical sets of the exact same outfit for regular rotation and washing.

The following morning, after washing up and getting dressed, Shingo stood before the mirror, carefully adjusting and strapping his training weights into place.

He then smoothed down the stray locks of hair falling across his temples, confirmed everything was in order, and tied his ninja tool pouch securely around his waist.

Time to move out and head to the Academy.