🎉STIN: Chapter 40/45

Chapter 40: Training Continues

Several months passed, and in the exclusive training ground deep within the Forest of Death, time seemed compressed and ignited by an invisible hand.

"Hey! Ryo! Take this!" A clear, laughing voice broke through the morning mist.

Kushina, like red lightning, leapt from a branch, her training shoe whistling through the air toward Ryo's face. The angle wasn't complicated, but the speed and power already rivaled most Chūnin.

Ryo didn't even lift an eyelid. His body had already calculated the trajectory.

He sidestepped, twisted his waist, and his left hand, like an iron clamp, caught Kushina's slender but powerful ankle.

There was no wasted motion. His strength was measured and controlled, deflecting the attack with ease.

But Kushina never aimed to land a simple kick.

The instant he grabbed her ankle, her body spun with momentum, like a vine twisting in the wind. Her other leg swept toward his knee joint with fierce spiraling force.

The movement was fluid, carrying a faint breeze. Her shifting center of gravity brought her soft waist nearly brushing his chest.

Bang!

A dull thud echoed.

The strike was stopped cleanly, Ryo standing solid as a rooted tree.

But Kushina wasn't done.

Her blocked leg bent suddenly, her knee driving toward his lower abdomen.

The distance closed instantly.

He could see beads of sweat on her nose, his own frown reflected in her light blue eyes, the way she bit her lip in concentration.

Her breath rushed against him, carrying the scent of morning dew, sweat, and the stubborn vitality of a girl who never held back.

Ryo didn't retreat.

His abs tightened. His grip on her ankle pulled sharply downward toward his chest.

At the same time, he leaned back slightly, narrowly dodging the sharp knee strike with the smallest motion possible.

Kushina's ankle stayed locked in his grip, and her own momentum sent her stumbling forward, her balance gone.

"Ahn~" Her cry carried three parts panic, seven parts mischief.

Ryo's pupils narrowed. That sound was planned.

Before she could really fall, his arm jerked upward, hauling her half a foot off the ground. The movement gave her just enough time to regain balance.

Kushina's other foot touched down lightly. She twisted in mid-air like a red butterfly and landed steady.

Both of them let out a quiet breath.

The air between them tightened again.

Kushina stood still, her ankle tingling with the memory of his grip, the strength and rough calluses on his palm. Even through her sock, the sensation spread up her body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

And she noticed the pause—the fraction of hesitation before he let go. That wasn't the motion of someone simply blocking.

Her eyes locked on him.

Ryo had already released her and turned away, grabbing a water bottle and drinking with sharp, deliberate gulps.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, his movements forceful, as if smothering something. His broad back, muscles taut under the thin black training uniform, faced her.

"Reckless. Charging in close with no stable footing?"

But Kushina caught the faint roughness in his tone.

She stepped closer, tilting her head with a sly smile. "What's there to be afraid of? Ryo-sensei caught me, didn't he?"

Her tone was teasing, her eyes sharp like a fox. "And… you didn't dodge just now, did you? Think my move was good?"

She tiptoed, closing the gap further, her scent of sweat and sunshine almost brushing against his neck.

Ryo's hand froze mid-drink.

He turned suddenly, their faces nearly colliding.

The distance shrank to dangerous proximity.

Kushina's heart skipped a beat.

His black eyes, close enough to drown her, burned like a suppressed volcano and froze like a bottomless abyss all at once, overwhelming in their intensity.

Time paused.

Only the forest breeze remained, and their breathing, hers quick, his measured.

Then Ryo let out a faint "hmph," an unimpressed nasal sound.

He raised his hand and flicked her forehead, not hard, not soft.

"Ow!" Kushina yelped, covering her forehead and hopping back. Her cheeks puffed out. "You block of wood! That hurt!"

"Serves you right," Ryo said flatly. The overwhelming pressure from earlier vanished, leaving only his usual sternness. "If you've got the energy for stupid tricks, put it into your pathetic Rasengan practice."

He reached for another bottle of water.

Kushina didn't feel discouraged by his remarks.

Her inner self cheered wildly. Mikoto didn't lie. This so-called block of wood was changing, bit by bit.

He didn't dodge, didn't shove her away, and even flicked her forehead with an almost casual familiarity.

That was progress.

(To be continued.)

Special thanks to Jeff_Maxilom for sponsoring this extra chapter 🎉🎉🎉

Chapter 41: Hand-Holding Practice?

The training props Ryo prepared were all laid out: tough water balloons and stronger rubber balls. Each stage was an extreme test of chakra "quality" and "control."

Kushina's chakra reserves were vast, but in the balance of "refinement" and "precision," she was still an unpolished gem.

The first stage, breaking water balloons, gave her plenty of trouble.

Her chakra release was unstable. Sometimes the water wouldn't budge, other times she forced it too hard, making the balloon burst and soak her. Each time, Ryo's evaluation was merciless: "Useless."

Her light blue eyes would immediately well up with tears, staring at him with an aggrieved look. "Who's useless… I'm just trying to get a feel for it… Can't you encourage me?"

Wanting to give her a little taste of her own medicine, Ryo walked a few steps closer with a blank expression, pointing at the deflated water balloon in her hand. "A feel? The water flow is chaotic. Chakra is spilling in at least three places. Is that your version of control?"

His tone was flat, but his gaze cut straight through her watery look.

Though his eyes betrayed faint ripples deep inside, his expression remained calm and unshaken.

"You…" Kushina faltered, her tears drying instantly as she glared at him in frustration.

But just as she was about to try again, Ryo spoke. "The chakra on the left is scattered. Pull back three parts of the force to your palm. Try again."

Kushina froze, but followed his instruction instinctively.

Buzz… the water flow inside the balloon instantly became far more orderly and violent.

Though it still burst in the end, the process was clearly different.

"It seems… I'm getting a feel for it?" Kushina's eyes lit up.

This scene repeated itself often.

Kushina's Rasengan training advanced rapidly, from water balloons to rubber balls. Each breakthrough came with her feigned complaints and Ryo's sharp critiques, paired with precise corrections.

A silent understanding grew behind the words "useless" and "clumsy."

Now, Kushina stood at the final stage.

On a thick tree trunk, there was a bowl-sized indentation.

The central fibers were spirally torn apart, curling inward.

The edges were charred, and remnants of violent chakra still lingered.

This was Kushina's Rasengan (prototype) result—though not yet stable, its destructive power was undeniable.

"See Ryo! I told you I could do it!" Kushina's face was flushed with excitement, sweat glistening on her forehead. She tilted her head back proudly, chin raised at Ryo, who leaned against another trunk with crossed arms.

Sweat slid down her neckline, catching the sunlight.

Ryo's gaze swept across the spiral mark. A flicker of recognition flashed in his eyes, gone in an instant. "So-so." The words were short, stingy as ever. He stepped forward, stopping before her.

His tall frame cast a shadow, carrying the smell of soil and fresh leaves.

Kushina's heartbeat quickened. Was it going to be more close-range instruction?

But Ryo simply extended his right hand, palm open, pointing at her. "Release. Focus your chakra."

Kushina froze. Condense a Rasengan against his palm? That was harder than hitting a tree. The smaller target demanded tighter control.

"Scared?" Ryo raised an eyebrow.

"Who's scared!" Kushina snapped back, her competitive fire instantly flaring. She inhaled deeply, concentrating. A pale blue chakra glow spun in her hand, compressing, condensing into a fist-sized unstable sphere.

It hummed loudly, light flickering, edges leaking unstable chakra threads.

"Unstable form. Weak compression." Ryo's voice came from beside her, his breath brushing her temple.

Kushina's expression tightened as she tried to stabilize the chakra. But the harder she pressed, the more unstable it became, spinning violently, threatening to explode. Sweat rolled down her forehead, sliding along the bridge of her nose.

Just as the Rasengan nearly burst apart—

A large hand pressed firmly over hers.

Scalding. Steady. Powerful.

Not an attack, but an unyielding hold over her palm, locking her chakra in place like iron.

Buzz!

Kushina's mind went blank.

It wasn't the chakra that exploded—it was her pulse, her breath, her blood. The heat from his palm shot up her arm like fire, slamming into her chest.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The volatile chakra sphere froze for an instant.

She could feel the roughness of his calluses, the hardness of his muscles, every detail of his grip.

That searing touch was more direct, more forceful, more overwhelming than any accidental contact before.

"The core is here, not scattered." Ryo's voice was low and steady, guiding rather than coaxing.

His fingers shifted slightly against the back of her hand, controlling the chaotic flow with ease, steering its energy as if it were his own.

Kushina stood frozen.

Her cheeks, neck, and ears flushed crimson. Blood roared under her skin.

A thought screamed in her head: He's doing this on purpose!

"Focus." Ryo's sharp command cut through her haze. His grip tightened, pulling her hand inward.

The force of his control was absolute.

Her stray thoughts scattered instantly, dragged back to the Rasengan in her palm.

Under his firm hold, the violent chakra, like a flood meeting its dam, suddenly found its path.

(To be continued.)

Special thanks to Jeff_Maxilom for sponsoring this extra chapter 🎉🎉🎉

Chapter 42: Release the Hand Already

The light suddenly intensified.

Then, like a tamed wild horse, it converged, collapsed, and condensed in an instant.

A smaller, brighter, but extremely contained and terrifyingly stable pure blue energy sphere appeared in the center of their tightly clasped palms.

It was no longer a turbulent nebula, but a miniature storm core, compressed to the extreme and packed with destructive force.

It spun at high speed, emitting a deep, powerful hum. The surrounding air was compressed so tightly that a visible transparent vortex formed.

It was done.

A stable, condensed prototype of the Rasengan.

"Do not let it dissipate." Ryo's voice was low, with a hint of barely perceptible tension.

His hand still firmly covered hers, as if they were sharing this dangerous energy sphere.

Kushina completely forgot about the Rasengan itself.

All her senses were occupied by that astonishingly hot hand enveloping hers, guiding her.

His breath brushed her hair as he spoke, the subtle pressure of his chest almost against her back, all of it burned into her senses.

Her body trembled slightly, not from fear, but from this unprecedented, heart-racing, blood-stirring closeness.

Could he feel it? What would he think?

Time seemed to stretch endlessly.

The training ground was silent, with only the deep, steady hum of the Rasengan and the increasingly clear heartbeats of the two, intertwined and almost indistinguishable. Thump, thump, thump…

Like two birds trapped in a small cage, colliding and trying to break free.

This damned tacit understanding.

Ryo clearly felt the delicate, searing warmth of the back of her hand, and the slight sweat from tension.

The air felt thick like honey, sweet and suffocating, with a hidden thrill.

No one spoke, no one moved.

Ryo's gaze stayed on their joined hands and the incredibly stable Rasengan.

Kushina lowered her head, her flushed cheeks almost buried in her chest, but her senses were like antennae, frantically catching his breath, his warmth, and the pressure of his hand.

He had not let go. He had not pushed her away.

This realization shot through her like an electric current, leaving her dizzy with delight.

In the end, the Rasengan's own energy consumption broke the stillness.

Maintaining a stable form required immense mental focus, and Kushina, having just mastered it, could not sustain it for long.

The stable blue light flickered.

Ryo reacted instantly.

"That's enough."

He spoke quietly, and at the same time, his hand finally left the back of hers.

In an instant, the scorching heat in her palm vanished. A strong sense of loss, mixed with the relief of release, surged into her chest.

Kushina felt a chill on the back of her hand. The sensation of being enveloped, guided, and controlled was withdrawn, leaving only cool air and clear sweat. Was it hers, or his as well?

She pulled back her still trembling hand, almost reluctantly.

The condensed Rasengan lost its final support. Its light flashed and went out, dissolving into specks of blue that faded into the air.

Ryo stepped back, keeping a safe distance.

"The form is there, but the duration is too short. Refinement and instant burst are lacking." His voice returned to calm.

"Keep practicing. Do not get cocky just because you got it once."

Kushina, blushing, couldn't look straight at Ryo, but she felt her heart like a tipped honey pot.

He held my hand for so long and did not pull away.

A surge of accomplishment mixed with sweetness made her want to scream.

She did not snap back or tease like before. She raised the hand he had covered and gently clenched her fist, as if the heat still lingered.

A soft, proud smile appeared on her face. Her voice was clear.

"Got it, Ryo-sensei. I won't let you look down on me." That "sensei" no longer carried teasing or malice, but a sweet, sticky undertone only they understood.

The scent of sweat from their training still hung in the air, and invisible threads were already quietly coiling, drawing the two figures closer.

(To be continued.)

Special thanks to Jeff_Maxilom for sponsoring this extra chapter 🎉🎉🎉

Chapter 43: Graduation Day

Just as Ryo and Kushina were in their ambiguous back-and-forth, time flew by.

Graduation season arrived.

The relationship between Ryo and Kushina was stuck at the critical point of being more than friends but less than lovers.

On the day of the graduation exam, the heat wave was so intense it felt like smoke was rising from the cracks in people's bones.

The air at the Konoha Ninja Academy training ground was so heavy it seemed filled with lead dust, and every breath hurt the lungs.

Cicadas screamed in the trees, each shrill cry slicing through the oppressive silence like a death warrant.

The center of the grounds, under the July noon sun, was a blinding pale white that made people dizzy.

Everyone in the stands twisted their necks to stare at the figure at the edge. Wearing the Hokage's robe and puffing on a pipe, it was none other than Sarutobi Hiruzen.

His presence was a needle to the heart of the crowd. Whispers boiled like oil doused with cold water, crackling twice before dying in their throats, leaving a silence choked by awe.

"The Third… is he really here?"

"Idiot. This class has his disciple's disciple, Namikaze Minato, and that… monster Ryo."

The buzzing died completely when Sarutobi Hiruzen's indifferent gaze swept over them.

All attention turned to the two figures in the arena.

Namikaze Minato stood under the scorching sun.

His golden hair flashed sharply.

He stood straight as a javelin. Deep in his blue pupils, like charcoal sealed in a furnace for two years, a fire burned fiercely, finally breaking through the lid to lock onto the target opposite him.

His lips were pressed tight and pale. A faint tremor traced his jawline. It was not fear, but the humiliation and resentment of more than a dozen crushing defeats over the past two years, piled like a mountain and finally finding a crack to explode through.

The name carved into his bones—Kamiyama Ryo.

An iceberg that never melted hung over his "genius" title. The shadow was so deep it made him breathless.

Every time.

He gave everything every time. The result?

The outcome never changed. He was always the one on the ground, face bruised and swollen.

That bottomless despair had almost dragged him into the abyss countless times.

Not to mention…

Minato's eyes, like a snake's, could not help but drift to the sidelines.

Fiery red, like a flame.

Kushina stood on tiptoe, trying to stuff a candy into Ryo's pocketed hand. Her little face was flushed, stubborn to the end.

Ryo's face was expressionless, like a white porcelain mask. The hand in his pocket did not move, not even a fingertip.

She felt it was not enough, waved her little fist, and gestured angrily.

Finally, Ryo flicked her hand away, impatient. She exploded, jumping up to pounce and strangle his arm.

Ryo simply extended a slender finger and pressed it lightly against her sweaty forehead, like flipping a spring switch.

The red-haired chili pepper could only stand there, madly punching the air, unable to reach him.

But her sea-blue eyes stayed on Ryo, filled with pure, blazing joy and dependence, so strong it seemed to burn.

Phew.

Minato's heart felt pierced by a poisoned scorpion's sting, the pain spreading through his blood.

He suddenly turned away and took a deep breath of hot air, his throat stinging.

His hands clenched at his sides, nails digging crescents into his palms.

Uzumaki Kushina.

He had chewed on that name in his mind for two whole years.

Her gaze, her smile, every bit of that fierce vitality… would always, always be alive only for Ryo.

No matter how much progress Minato made or how many praises he received from the instructor, in Uzumaki Kushina's ocean-blue eyes, he would always be just the long, blurry, insignificant shadow cast by Ryo on the ground.

Today was not just about winning or losing.

Today, he would shatter the iceberg in his heart and drag that damned dignity out of the shadows.

He had to win.

Otherwise, he would never escape this demon barrier in his lifetime.

At the other end of the arena, the atmosphere was completely different.

Ryo's tall frame leaned lazily against a low wooden post at the edge of the training ground, like he was lounging on the porch at home.

His fiery red hair covered half his forehead. His eyelids drooped, half open, half closed. Through the narrow slits, his gaze was empty, unreadable.

The stares, the whispers, even the exploding battle intent, seemed separated by thick glass, unrelated to him.

It was the complete laziness born from crushing everything.

A graduation exam today, just a stamp on a useless academy life.

It was rare for his real self to show up in the past two years. The one sitting in class every day was only a shadow clone to deal with school.

If Minato knew, his worldview might collapse.

As for the flames in Minato's eyes, Ryo felt they were less annoying than the cicadas dying above his head.

Ryo knew the original timeline. This yellow-haired kid would be an incredible Fourth Hokage. For the village, he would sacrifice himself and his wife.

A hero.

On that point, Ryo acknowledged it, and still found it unpleasant.

It was dangerous. A man ruthless enough to include himself in the collateral.

Ryo knew himself. He was a practiced egoist who protected only his own.

Otherwise, why did he not apply for early graduation, or just let a shadow clone handle the academy?

Because Ryo had no intention of becoming anyone's tool.

For Konoha?

For the Will of Fire?

Ridiculous.

Get close to Namikaze Minato?

He was not some clueless cosplayer ignoring reality.

He had a system.

The Strongest Legacy System.

He did not need to cling to anyone.

That yellow-haired kid with spiky hair?

At best, a strong passerby.

He had no time to think about him, and no interest in a second look.

(To be continued.)

Special thanks to Jeff_Maxilom for sponsoring this extra chapter 🎉🎉🎉

Chapter 44: Minato’s Killer Combo

"Kamiyama Ryo! Namikaze Minato!"

Kimura Shū's voice cut through the stuffy air, a hoarseness in his throat like a string about to snap.

Minato's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the bitterness rising in his chest, his eyes suddenly sharp.

Each step he took on the ground sounded like a heavy war drum, pounding on everyone's hearts and making their scalps tingle.

And Ryo?

Lazily, he straightened his back from the wooden stake and slowly walked into the center of the field.

His hands?

Still buried deep in the pockets of his black pants.

That casual air was like taking a stroll after dinner to help digestion.

"Both sides, form the Confrontation Seal!" Kimura Shū's voice trembled, almost cracking at the end.

Minato's expression was solemn, his movements precise. His right thumb pressed against his index finger, left palm turned upward, forming a standard Confrontation Seal. Like a believer receiving an oracle, sacred and dignified.

Ryo paused.

His right hand finally, reluctantly, painfully slowly slid out of his pocket.

No hand seals, no killing aura.

He simply raised his arm half-heartedly, flicked his index finger with his thumb nail, the motion casual and even insulting.

Countless gazes locked onto that lazy motion.

Uchiha Mikoto stood just behind Kushina, silent like a shadow.

She tilted her head slightly, making space for Kushina's excitedly swaying red hair. Her gaze fell on Ryo's fingertip movement, so casual it seemed unreal.

Her delicate face was calm and unruffled.

But beneath her dark sleeves, her hands gripped her clothes so hard that the fabric was deeply indented, her knuckles turning bloodless white.

And Kushina?

Her excitement was like insects crawling through her veins. She rubbed her palms together, her small mouth opening and closing silently. "Ryo! Victory!" The lip movement was clear.

Seeing her closest companion pour out such pure, almost worshipful fervor toward that figure's back…

An indescribable bitterness swelled in Mikoto's chest, sour and aching.

That towering figure, sharp like a blade, hadn't he also left an unforgettable mark in her naive heart, keeping her awake at night?

In youth, who didn't have a first love?

But he could only be Kushina's sun.

Mikoto forced that inappropriate flutter down with all her strength, turning her head toward the swaying tree shadows in the distance.

Only by suppressing the storm in her chest with icy self-control could she keep her face expressionless.

"Begin!"

Kimura Shū's sharp shout was like a fuse lit, sparks instantly igniting.

The spot where Minato had stood blurred, erased like chalk under an eraser.

His figure dissolved.

Only golden shockwave ripples remained, his terrifying speed tearing the air apart.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Ear-splitting sonic booms!

Almost at the same time, three figures appeared, each with golden light and killing intent, lunging at Ryo from the front, left, and right like poisoned golden arrows fired from a giant crossbow.

Kage Bunshin! The clones carried the same chakra fluctuations as the original. No delay, perfect coordination.

A flawless execution, using shadow clones to their maximum potential in real combat.

"Three! There are three Minatos!"

"Damn! That's more than twice as fast as last month!"

"Kage Bunshin can be used like this? I'll be damned!"

The stands exploded in shouts of shock, students craning their necks, eyes bulging.

The assault only grew fiercer.

The three lunging Minatos left golden afterimages in mid-air. Their four arms had already split into six blurs of light.

A violent crimson aura of Fire Style.

A sharp azure edge of Wind Style.

Both almost simultaneously enveloped their arms, fire snakes wildly dancing on their left, wind blades forming on their right. No hand seals. Pure chakra nature manipulation.

"Fire!" The central Minato roared.

The crimson chakra on his left arm compressed into a blazing fireball, the size of a head, its destructive heat roaring through the air like a meteor straight at Ryo's face. The air twisted violently, the smell of burning filling the field.

"Wind!" The clone on the left overlapped his shout.

The azure chakra condensed into a terrifying wind cone, small as a bowl's mouth, shrieking like a soul-chasing poisoned needle, shooting at Ryo's waist. Its trajectory intersected perfectly with the fireball's outer edge.

Whoosh—Boom!

The compressed wind cone slammed into the crimson fireball, instantly detonating it several times over. The crimson burst into a blinding white blaze that seemed capable of incinerating everything.

A destructive shockwave of white fire mixed with countless wind blades, like a giant net of death. The hellish wind and fire swallowed everything in front and to the left of Ryo.

Scorching heat waves distorted vision.

And just as that blinding light devoured sight—

The clone on the right vanished, his body dissolving into the scorching air like a ghost, leaving no trace.

The real killing blow was hidden behind the incandescent curtain. A stealth strike, a perfect feint.

Minato had displayed the extreme of his current strength from the start: overwhelming taijutsu speed, clone feints, and the fused use of Fire and Wind chakra.

This was no longer the level of a mere academy graduate.

The stands fell silent.

Every spectator was frozen, unable to breathe.

Even Hiruzen's hand holding his pipe paused. His cloudy old eyes fixed on the center of that raging wind-and-fire hell, on the red-haired boy who still seemed motionless.

(To be continued.)

Special thanks to Jeff_Maxilom for sponsoring this extra chapter 🎉🎉🎉

Chapter 45: Desperate Trump Card

"Beautiful! That combo is flawless!"

"Wind-Fire Combo! Overpowered! Is it beyond C-rank already?"

"All blind spots sealed! There's even a killer move hidden behind! Minato-kun… is too strong!"

On the training ground, gasps erupted like waves.

All the students watched with flushed faces, completely ignited by Namikaze Minato's precise tactics and fierce offensive.

On the high platform, Hiruzen finally let a faint smile curl on his lips, the smoke from his pipe curling upwards.

A cold glint flashed in his eyes, carrying a trace of imperceptible appreciation. Good kid. Perfect timing, chakra control is flowing smoothly. Jiraiya finally did something right. This talent, this calmness… he's a good prospect.

On the field, the situation shifted in an instant.

The scorching white fireball, capable of devouring everything, and the violent wind blade tearing through the air roared like demons, threatening to shred the lone red-haired figure in the center of the arena, Ryo, into ashes. Not even dust left behind.

A hair's breadth away. Life hanging by a thread.

Ryo moved.

Facing an overwhelming combination that would trouble even a Jōnin, he merely raised his right hand.

That's right.

The very hand that hadn't received candy from Kushina, the one always kept in his pocket, stayed in his pocket.

He simply used his free left hand, raising it casually.

Fingers spread, palm forward.

No dazzling hand seals.

No complex jutsu.

He didn't even bother changing his expression.

Boom!

An earth-shattering roar.

The ground beneath his feet trembled violently.

The twin dragons of wind and fire slammed into the air in front of Ryo's palm.

Where was the expected gruesome scene of flesh flying, bones snapping, blood spraying?

Nowhere.

The furious energy, enough to seriously wound a Jōnin, slammed into an invisible, mountain-heavy barrier.

Shockwaves. Explosions. Scorching heat that could melt steel. Razor wind blades that could cut a man into ribbons. All of it was nailed in place by an absolute, immovable force in front of that palm. Not an inch advanced.

All the students' eyes nearly popped out.

Ryo's hand was steady as an ancient boulder. Space itself twisted and compressed around his open palm.

The roaring flames and shrieking wind blades fought desperately, yet couldn't even stir a ripple against the domain formed by monstrous chakra and his terrifying body.

Why? Because he was strong enough.

He hadn't been pummeled by Tsunade-hime's fists for nothing these past two years.

That experience, being beaten half to death, had long since taught him how to use brute strength violently.

On top of that was the physique inherited from Shanks, and the abyss-like sea of chakra inside him.

Quantity had long since become quality. It had sublimated.

What ninjutsu? What tactics?

In the face of absolute power, all of it was paper.

"Empty… empty-handed… he blocked it?!"

"Shit! That's a B-rank combination ninjutsu! He pressed it down with one hand?!"

The stands erupted. This time it wasn't admiration, but fear. Gasps of cold air echoed one after another. Many girls' faces turned pale.

As the explosion smoke and blinding flames formed a blazing curtain, the true killing move came.

A figure as fast as golden lightning tore through the smoke like a phantom.

From Ryo's blind spot, the rear right corner, where the clone had disappeared before, it struck with a piercing attack.

Only now did they realize—this was the real body. Minato's real body.

That devastating wind and fire assault just now?

A feint. All of it was a feint, just to create this fatal strike.

The moment the enemy "hard-counters" a frontal ultimate move, drained of strength, unable to respond with new power… that was the instant to kill.

Minato's body turned into a golden streak.

Speed, surpassing his limits.

The kunai in his hand was no longer ordinary steel.

A violent, eerie blue lightning glow wrapped tightly around the blade, crackling, hissing with a shriek that stabbed into the heart.

Lightning Release: Ground Flash!

Not a jutsu, but pure destructive lightning compressed and bound to the kunai, forged into one killing strike.

An earth-shattering stab.

This was his trump card, his final defiance.

Two years of grueling training.

Two years of humiliation.

Kushina's sparkling eyes whenever she looked at Ryo.

All of it turned into a silent roar in Minato's chest, driving this strike. Ryo, be defeated! I will shatter the wall that is you!

The kunai tip, carrying lightning that could pierce everything, condensed all of Minato's spirit and rage, all his hope.

The timing and angle were flawless. Ruthless. Directly aimed at the unguarded back of Ryo's heart.

In Minato's eyes, the light of victory burst brilliantly. I won! This time…

But.

Just as the lightning-wrapped kunai tip brushed the fibers of Ryo's shirt, the warmth of his body close beneath—

Ryo's body, steady as a mountain, didn't shift an inch.

Only the bronzed muscle of his back, the suffocatingly thick latissimus dorsi, rippled once.

The next second.

Clang! Crackle-crackle!

There was no sound of flesh pierced.

Only a hideous screech that set teeth on edge, like a rusty saw grinding on indestructible alloy.

The kunai tip, forged from Minato's will, wrapped in lightning, bent instantly. The edge curled. The blade ruined.

And then—

The compressed Lightning Release chakra, lethal enough to kill a Jōnin in a flash?

Pop.

Like a bubble crushed by an invisible hand, it vanished.

The eerie blue sparks scattered instantly, gone without a trace.

Boom.

The light of determination and two years of burning will in Minato's eyes shattered like fragile glass.

In its place, overwhelming astonishment, helpless confusion, and a freezing despair, like falling endlessly into an abyss.

How… is… that… possible?!

Minato's mind was blank, only those words echoing in the void.

(To be continued.)