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As he returned home, bruised and battered, Sasuke Uchiha naturally couldn't avoid his parents' questioning.
He wanted to prove himself to his father—Uchiha Fugaku—but there was no way he'd admit he had picked a fight and gotten beaten badly. How could he tell them that he'd challenged someone head-on and lost so miserably?
So, Sasuke came up with an excuse. He claimed he had stood up for a classmate being bullied and bravely took on a group of attackers—defeated most of them, but was ultimately overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
In his young mind, bearing the name "Uchiha" should count for something. Surely the Uchiha name was worth at least a hundred people, even if the numbers didn't quite add up.
But to his surprise, his parents—Fugaku and Mikoto—were left speechless by his story. If they remembered correctly, their pride and prodigy, Itachi Uchiha, had only managed to defeat ten opponents at Sasuke's age.
And now their younger son was claiming he had fought a hundred?
Sasuke, of course, had no idea what they were thinking. Seeing them fall silent, he misunderstood their reaction and assumed they were disappointed that he hadn't defeated them all.
So, after dinner, he ran straight to his older brother, pestering Itachi to train with him. At the same time, he cautiously asked about the boy he'd fought earlier—Ye Dou.
That question alone kept Sasuke awake all night.
Because Itachi had told him something that shook him to his core: that during the fight, Ye Dou hadn't even used his full strength. In fact, he had been carrying a weighted training tool the entire time.
Sasuke didn't want to believe it, but he knew his brother would never lie to him.
So, when Ye Dou walked into class the next day, Sasuke glared at him, his small face twisted with frustration and resentment.
"Next time... I'll definitely beat you!" he shouted as Ye Dou passed by. The declaration lacked arrogance—if anything, it was tinged with doubt.
Ye Dou glanced at him and responded coolly, "If you want, come find me this afternoon."
Like hell I will, Sasuke thought. He couldn't agree—he didn't have the guts. But refusing outright would've been too humiliating. So he turned away, sulking in silence.
Back at his desk, Hyūga Hanaho leaned over with a friendly smile and held something out.
Ye Dou frowned and said coldly, "What are you doing?"
"Sharing my bento," she replied cheerfully. "Want a rice ball?"
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[Scene Transition – Months Later]
Spring passed, and autumn came. In the blink of an eye, the time of the Uchiha clan's downfall—at Ye Dou's hands—was drawing closer.
Under the roaring waterfall of the Naka River, Ye Dou stood, clad in a black training robe. Sword in hand, he slashed through the water crashing down from dozens of meters above.
The sheer force of the water could crush an ordinary person—but not him. Even under the weight of gravity-enhanced pressure, he remained unmoved. With one foot forward and the other back, he gripped his shinobi blade tightly and slashed again and again, as if trying to cleave the waterfall itself.
While natural waterfalls lacked the precise control of adjustable training weights, the sheer, constant force of nature pushed his limits further than any equipment could.
Compared to standard weight training, this method had proven even more effective—but only after weeks of brutal adaptation.
He wouldn't have made it this far without Hyūga Hanaho and Might Guy.
But when either of them was unavailable, he trained here alone.
This wasn't the cliff where Uchiha Shisui had once taken his own life—it was a different place, with better scenery and better conditions for his intense physical cultivation.
After three to four months of this brutal regimen, Ye Dou's progress was undeniable.
His chakra control had refined dramatically. His reserves, once unstable, were now dense and potent—suitable for a chūnin-level shinobi.
His rapid progress was due in part to his unique body. His cells brimmed with vitality, and as his physique grew stronger, so did every aspect of his power. Only rare clans like the Uzumaki or Senju could match such natural regeneration and endurance.
Though the gap between genin and chūnin was narrow, many genin could defeat lower-tier chūnin in battle.
But the leap to jōnin was different. True jōnin were elite soldiers—battle-hardened, intelligent, and deadly.
Becoming a chūnin was relatively straightforward: your jōnin instructor recommended you for the exam, and you passed.
But jōnin? That was another level entirely.
A shinobi had to demonstrate leadership, mastery of multiple jutsu types, tactical skill, and mission success under pressure. And crucially, they had to be recommended by the village's Kage.
It was no wonder the process was strict—after all, jōnin often led squads of rookies into deadly missions. Their survival, and the mission's success, depended on their skill.
Most jōnin possessed at least one powerful, unique jutsu.
Ye Dou, however, couldn't be judged by normal standards.
With the power of the Gravity Fruit, his techniques and abilities far surpassed the ordinary. If the Ninja World classified jutsu by rank, even his weakest techniques would start at B-rank, with many reaching A- or even S-rank—bordering on forbidden jutsu in scale.
Though he'd never left the village or undergone formal missions, sometimes raw power and talent alone were enough to defy conventional wisdom.
Now that his chakra had reached chūnin level, he felt genuinely excited.
But what thrilled him even more was mastering one of the Rokushiki techniques: Soru (Shave).
Though still rough and not yet second nature, even basic use of Soru drastically boosted his speed in combat.
If he fought Sasuke Uchiha again now, he could likely end it in an instant.
The technique was both simple and brutally demanding: stepping on the ground dozens of times within 0.36 seconds, using the accumulated force to move at blinding speed.
Ye Dou wasn't quite there yet—but he was close.
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