Chapter 14 | Achivement System in Naruto

Chapter 14

— Onoki (Third Tsuchikage) —

The early morning light of Iwagakure, filtered through the high, narrow windows of his office, did little to warm the stone. Onoki, the Third Tsuchikage, felt the familiar ache in his lower back as he pushed himself to his feet. Another day, another mountain of paperwork that threatened to bury a village already mired in war. He walked to his desk, the massive, carved stone monstrosity that had belonged to his predecessors, and scowled.

He grumbled under his breath at his own short stature, a lifelong annoyance that time had done nothing to soothe. With a slight, almost imperceptible pulse of chakra to his legs, he launched himself upward, landing softly in the high-backed chair with a quiet sigh. He was the Tsuchikage, grandson of the First and student of the Second. He would not be defeated by furniture.

He made a single, precise hand seal. From the shadows in the corner of the room, a figure in a porcelain mask dropped to one knee, placing a heavy stack of scrolls and files on the edge of the desk before melting back into the darkness. The day's reports.

The state of the war was… complicated. It was a stalemate, a slow, grinding attrition of resources and lives. What had started over border disputes and the Fire Daimyō’s ridiculous tariffs had devolved into this endless quagmire. Onoki was tired of it. He was old enough to have lived through two of these continental bloodbaths, and he often cursed the day his master, Mū, had seen fit to pass on the hat.

Still, it was his duty. He pulled the first file toward him. Konoha's White Fang, Sakumo Hatake, was a persistent thorn in his side. A new report detailed how Hatake and his genin team had single-handedly destroyed a medium-sized supply shipment meant for the front lines. And that wasn't even mentioning the damned Namikaze brat, whose speed was becoming a legend that cost Iwa dearly. If it wasn't for the Explosion Corps putting in the work, they'd be at a significant disadvantage. Thankfully, bombs solved a great many problems.

He scanned the next report. Kirigakure was ramping up its attacks on their eastern shipping lanes. Kiri's numbers were not a threat, but their tactics were savage, born from a brutal training regimen that valued victory above all else. He'd have to reinforce the sea routes. Kumo, meanwhile, was playing the long game, waiting for one side to weaken before they pounced. He would not give them the chance. He would poke the hornet's nest just enough to keep them occupied.

He summoned a shinobi with a flare of chakra, gave a series of clipped, precise orders for squads to be dispatched to the Kumo border, then dismissed him. The nitty-gritty planning could be left to the captains.

Next were the mission reports. He started with the failures, a bitter but necessary meal to begin the day. He flipped through several, each one a small, frustrating piece of the larger stalemate. One, however, caught his eye. It was a mission sabotage failure, but it was flagged with a Person of Interest marker. A three-man chunin squad ambushed by a Konoha genin team. Two of his chunin were dead. The third had escaped.

The sheer unlikelihood of it made him lean forward. He read the survivor's debriefing. Two of the genin, a boy and a girl, had worked together to take down one of his chunin with a well-coordinated assault. But it was the third genin who had earned the POI designation. The surviving chunin's testimony was laced with disbelief. The now dead Chunin had lunged at the boy, his kunai aimed to cripple, but the blade had screeched against the genin’s skin, barely breaking the surface. Before that, the boy had moved with a speed the chunin admitted he could not properly track.

Konoha and their damned freaks. The White Fang's own brat, Kakashi, had already graduated and was sowing chaos on the front lines, already earning a B-rank bounty.

This report was thorough. The survivor had met with a sketch artist. The drawing had been sent to their informant in Konoha, and since genin records were not yet classified at the highest levels, a match was found. Yuuki Kagurazaka, Anko Mitarashi, and Asuma Sarutobi. The last name was telling. And their sensei… Orochimaru of the Sannin.

The name "Sannin" had become infamous after their battle against Hanzo the Salamander. Even Onoki was not arrogant enough to assume a clear victory against Hanzo. To have one of the three training a team that included the Monkey's son and this new anomaly… this was no ordinary team. This was a special project.

He made another hand seal. The ANBU operative appeared again, kneeling silently.

"Issue new bounties," Onoki commanded, his voice hard as stone. "The genin Asuma Sarutobi and Anko Mitarashi are to be designated C-Rank. And Yuuki Kagurazaka… B-Rank. I want our shinobi to know that if they see this one, they are to treat him as a threat equivalent to a newly-minted Jonin. And I want to be informed of any and all encounters."

“Yes, Lord Tsuchikage!” The Anbu replied, as he once again faded into the darkness.

— Yuuki Kagurazaka —

I was lying on my futon, trying to relax. We had been given a few days off after our last mission, a rare break in the relentless schedule. But relaxing was a skill I had yet to master. Knowing what the future held, every moment not spent training felt like a moment wasted. My body and mind, however, was protesting. The exhaustion was a deep, physical ache that went beyond simple muscle soreness. I had realized from the start that what I was doing was unhealthy. I decided on a compromise. I would use these four days, but only for light training, a maintenance routine rather than pushing my limits—

A soft pop and a shower of colorful confetti erupted around me. I flinched, letting out a groan. Fuck the System.

[Achievement Accomplished!]

The rolls had been coming in frequently lately, though their effects were more subtle than my other abilities. [Wo)man on Mission] had been invaluable, a mental anchor that let me power through the stress and fatigue of our missions. [Martyr] was a grim sort of insurance policy, a final guarantee that if I went down, I wouldn't go down alone. The major one, however, had been [Martial Arts Prodigy]. It had completely reshaped my understanding of combat. The change was so profound, so fundamental, that I knew with certainty that if I were to face my sensei or the Hokage in a pure hand-to-hand fight right now, I would likely win. That's how ridiculous the perk was.

I watched as the screen refreshed with the new achievement.

[Get Entered into the Bingo Book (B Rank)]
[Achievement Rank: MID]

My thoughts came to a screeching halt. Wait, wait, wait. The fuck? Oh, fuck me. It had to be the escaped Iwa chunin. He must have made it back and reported what he saw. A B-Rank bounty. Ugh. This was going to make everything more dangerous. Missions would be more complicated, every rogue shinobi looking for a payday would see me as a walking sack of ryō. People would know about me. I grimaced, a knot tightening in my stomach. I wondered what the entry would say. Would it mention my speed? My durability? This was exactly the kind of attention I never wanted. 

My grimace deepened. Another mid-level reward to roll. I just hoped it was something that could help me deal with the new, very large target painted on my back.

[Rolling for MID level reward…]
[Result: Age Bringing Glory]

[Age Bringing Glory] (Refinement Chapter)
Age is a strange thing to the Shinigami. While the general rule is that the more powerful one is, the slower one ages, it can often move at different rates for unique individuals. Two captains of similar age may look entirely different, one a beautiful woman in her middle years and the other a wrinkled old man, despite the old man being by far the more powerful. But unlike mortal beings, the minds and bodies of the Shinigami rarely become frail. However old you may become, you appear to retain the full capabilities of your youthful prime. An aging elder’s body still bulges with muscular power and a thousand year old doctor’s mind remains as sharp as ever. The Reiatsu flows out strongly and indeed, there are some ways in which this age only makes you more deadly. The passing of years will slowly, independent of your actual training or learning, reveal to you secrets and developments to your skillset. The idle consideration given to one’s powers or skills happens to uncover new ways to use old tricks, a method to slightly improve your control over a fire-based release or give a flash of inspiration to solve a long mulled over problem. These improvements come slowly but steadily, mainly to the things that you focus on in life. A legendary Kido Master would naturally find his spells and casting of spells to improve as he grew older.

At first glance, this was a relatively useless perk in the short term. It didn't make me faster or stronger right now. But, in the long run? Age was a very real factor here, a weakness many shinobi discarded until it was too late. Hiruzen's age was the very reason he would eventually fall to Orochimaru, his body no longer able to keep up with his mind and will. This perk erased that possibility for me.

That wasn't even to mention the idle growth the ability provided. It was a guarantee against stagnation. It would ensure that I never truly got stuck, that I would always find an answer, a new way to improve, a path to grow stronger. As I processed the implications, I felt a subtle but undeniable shift within me. It wasn't a rush of power, but a deepening, a sense of a well that had just expanded. My chakra reserves had grown, a rough estimate putting it at a twenty percent increase. It was a solid, immediate benefit from a perk designed for the long game.

Still, a B-Rank bounty. I was now a known quantity, a target. The thought was sobering.

Just as I was about to push myself off the futon to begin a light training routine, there was a sharp, distinct rap on my door. It wasn't a normal knock, it was a triple-knock which usually meant that this was Shinobi business.

I opened the door to find a figure in the stark black and grey of the ANBU, their porcelain weasel mask betraying no emotion.

"The Hokage requires your presence," the operative said, their voice a filtered, toneless rasp. "Immediately."

There was no room for questions. I just nodded, grabbing my sandals and following the silent figure out into the afternoon. We didn't head for the Hokage Tower. A genin making repeated, unscheduled visits there would start rumors, and the last thing I needed was attention on me. Instead, the ANBU led me on a long, circuitous route through the quieter backstreets of the village, ending at a discreet gate set into the wall of the Hokage's personal residence. It was my usual way in.

The ANBU let me through the entrance and then simply vanished, melting back into the shadows. I walked the familiar wooden corridors to the room where I had my meetings with Hiruzen. As I approached the shoji door, I could hear the low murmur of voices. He wasn't alone.

I slid the door open and stepped inside. Hiruzen sat at the low table, a cup of tea before him. My brows raised and my guard went up as I saw there was someone else in the room. I forced myself to relax as I recognized her. Tsunade Senju, the Slug Princess of Konoha. She sat opposite the Hokage, her back ramrod straight. She was wearing a simple grey kimono-style top over the standard blue shinobi pants, the top showing an ample amount of cleavage. I registered the details, processed it, and immediately gathered myself, my focus shifting to the far more pressing question of why she was here.

"You called for me, Hokage-sama?" I asked, giving a respectful bow.

"Ah, Yuuki. Sit down," Hiruzen said, his tone even. I did as he asked, taking my usual spot at the table, acutely aware of the third person in the room. "Yuuki, this is my former student, Tsunade. As you know, she was also the teammate of your sensei."

Tsunade, on the other hand, was looking at me with a complicated gaze, a mixture of intense scrutiny, disbelief, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Can we get to the point," she snapped, her voice sharp and impatient, her eyes never leaving me.

Hiruzen let out a long, slow breath. "Tsunade here is acting as the current Clan Head for the Senju, Yuuki. She is also, as you may already know the Grand—"

"Everyone knows, sensei," she cut in, her tone dismissive.

He just sighed, a deep, weary sound that spoke of long years of dealing with this exact personality. "Yuuki," he said, turning back to me, "if you would."

Acting as the Senju Clan Head— ah, I get it. Months ago, Hiruzen had asked if I wanted to meet the Senju immediately. I had declined then, telling him I wanted to get a better handle on the power first. Now that I had, it seemed the time for that meeting had come.

I simply raised my hand, focusing on that familiar, humming sense within me. A block of solid, living wood grew smoothly from the center of my palm. I saw Tsunade's eyes widen, her professional composure cracking for just a moment.

Suddenly, without asking, she lunged forward, her hand reaching for mine. On instinct, a reflex honed by months under Orochimaru, I flinched back. The block of wood in my palm sharpened instantly, extending into a spike that pierced her hand as it closed in. She let out a sharp hiss of pain, snatching her hand back just as quickly.

"I was just inspecting it, brat," she growled, her tone making me instantly annoyed.

"Maybe ask first before you lunge at someone?" I shot back. What an abrasive woman.

"Tsunade," Hiruzen said, his voice carrying a quiet but unyielding warning. She stopped whatever retort was about to leave her lips.

She seemed to compose herself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I apologize," she said, the words sounding stiff and practiced. Her palm was enveloped in a soft green chakra. I watched, fascinated, as the small puncture wound sealed itself, leaving unblemished skin behind. Damn. I need to learn that. "May I inspect the wood?"

You can inspect my wood anytime, lady. Bad Yuuki. Down, boy.

I willed the spike to recede, the wood softening back into its blunt, blocky shape. I extended my hand forward, letting her touch it. Her hand glowed with that same green medical chakra as her fingers made contact. I tensed, feeling the energy probe the structure of the wood, analyzing its composition, its life force. She closed her eyes.

"It's... like his, but different as well," she whispered, her voice barely audible. When her eyes opened, they were distant, lost in a memory.

"Yes," Hiruzen confirmed, his gaze steady. "His ability does have a few differences." He paused, looking at me as if inviting me to continue the explanation. Having myself discussed in front of me was beginning to feel a bit demeaning, and I appreciated the silent gesture that gave me some autonomy.

"Oh?" Tsunade asked, her curiosity piqued.

"The primary difference is that it doesn't suppress chakra. It absorbs it," I explained. "It takes on the form of a wooden vine that attaches to the target. The more chakra they try to use, the deeper the roots go and the faster their chakra is drained."

Her eyes narrowed with a fascinated, almost predatory gleam. "That's fascinating. Show it," she demanded.

I met her gaze, a spark of annoyance pushing through my usual caution. "What's the magic word?" I asked. I knew saying that to a Sannin, the most powerful Kunoichi in the world, was profoundly stupid. But she had to be the rudest person I had met since arriving in this world.

She shot me a look that plainly said, Really? but I didn't waver, just held her gaze with a blank expression. I saw the muscles in her jaw tighten for a moment, a brief war between her pride and her curiosity. Curiosity won.

"Can you please show it?" Her tone was laced with an irritation so thick it was almost delicious, and I felt a surge of petty satisfaction.

"Of course," I said, a faint, polite smile touching my lips.

She held her right arm out over the table. I focused, drawing forth a thin, unassuming vine of wood from my hand. I wrapped it gently around her forearm. She flared her chakra, a controlled pulse of that potent green energy. I felt the change instantly. A sudden, distinct pull as the vine drew on her power, and my own reserves swelled slightly.

The vine reacted immediately. It constricted, tightening around her arm like a living vise. She winced as dozens of tiny, sharp thorns erupted from the wood's surface, piercing her skin. She deliberately flared her chakra again, a much stronger pulse this time, testing its limits. The thorns dug deeper, and the vine squeezed harder.

She let out a low, intrigued sound and cut the flow of chakra. The vine relaxed. "Interesting."

"What did you find out?" Hiruzen questioned, his eyes never having left the demonstration.

Tsunade's gaze was analytical, her mind clearly processing the results. "I didn't channel any chakra to my right arm, where the vine is," she explained, looking from her arm to me. "I focused a flow solely to my left, to enhance its strength so that I can physically rip it off. But the vine still reacted. The drain increased and it tightened."

She tapped her temple with a finger from her free hand. "That means the technique isn't drawing from the localized area it's touching. It's affecting my chakra system as a whole, like a parasite tapping into the entire network."

"How well do you think they'd work on the Jinchuriki?" Hiruzen asked sharply.

That surprised me. The Jinchuriki? We had never discussed the topic, but I knew what the term meant from my meta-knowledge though I had to feign ignorance.

"Jinchuriki?" I questioned, letting my confusion show.

Hiruzen’s gaze was heavy. "Human weapons, Yuuki. Containers for the Tailed Beasts. They are each village's greatest deterrent... and this is one of our most volatile secrets. The current Jinchuriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox is a kunoichi named Kushina Uzumaki."

"I see," I said, letting the gravity of the revelation settle over me, playing my part.

"It could be even more lethal than Grandfather Hashi’s ability, at least to them," Tsunade interjected, her analytical mind piecing it together instantly. "If they were to utilize the beast's power, they'd be constantly emitting chakra, which would strengthen your vines. The rate at which the chakra is absorbed seems dynamic to the size of the reserves being taken from. Against a Tailed Beast's immense supply... the brat would gain more."

Interesting. I hadn't considered it quite like that. The idea took root and blossomed in my mind with frightening potential. I voiced the thought out loud, "If I fought one of those 'Jinchuriki,' I could essentially use them as a nigh-infinite battery of chakra to use against their allies."

Tsunade snorted, a harsh, dismissive sound. "Only if you don't die instantly, brat." It was clear she was looking down on me, and with all the effort I had put in, the constant training and the real battles, that blatant condescension finally pissed me off. A deep frown settled on my face.

"Yuuki-kun is quite exceptional for his age, Tsunade," Hiruzen commented mildly, though I saw the warning flicker in his eyes.

"How about a spar?" I suggested, my annoyance sharpening my voice. I met her gaze, a challenging gleam in my eyes. Getting to fight someone on her level who wasn't my sensei would be an invaluable experience.

A slow, mocking smirk spread across her face. "You sure you can handle it?"

"I guess we'll see, won't we?" I replied, my voice steady.

The training ground we used wasn't that far away from the Hokage Mansion and was the one we usually used for my secretive afternoon training.

The training ground wasn't far, the same secluded spot nestled in the woods behind the Hokage's residence where I had my afternoon lessons. The quiet felt different now, charged with a different kind of tension.

"You sure you still want to do this?" she questioned, a condescending smirk playing on her lips.

A low but constant tune, the first notes of a battle theme only I could hear, started to play at the edge of my senses. I didn't say anything. I simply took a few quick steps back, creating distance, and settled into a stance. It was loose, my weight evenly distributed, ready to flow in any direction. It was a stance designed for the transition, to ensure I wouldn't get caught off guard. I wondered if Hiruzen had filled her in on my Attribute Distribution. To her, as the world's greatest medic-nin, the ability to fundamentally alter one's own physiology at will must be a fascinating concept.

I felt [Martial Arts Prodigy] kick in. It wasn't a rush of power, but of clarity. I looked at her, and my eyes narrowed. Her stance was loose, but not like mine. Hers was the looseness of overconfidence. My new perk didn't just let me observe her; it gave me a blueprint. I saw the countless flaws in her posture, the slight imbalance in her weight distribution, the fractional opening she left as she shifted her feet. It wasn't just an observation; it was a roadmap, a perfect set of instructions on how to take her apart.

I decided to take advantage of the gift she was giving me.

I entered "Swift" and ran straight at her. The world became a soft-focused blur as I moved, a grey streak closing the twenty feet between us in the space of a heartbeat. It wasn't a lie to say I was likely far faster than most active Jonin.

She wasn't a Sannin for nothing. A flicker of surprise widened her eyes, but she reacted, her arm coming up to block just in time. But she was reacting to the charge, not the attack itself. At the last possible moment, I shifted, my momentum flowing from a straight charge into a powerful, snapping kick aimed at her side. My stats flowed with the movement, pulling points from pure speed and dumping them into "Might." Not all of it — I wasn't trying to break her ribs — but enough to make a very clear point.

The impact sent a dull, solid thud echoing through the clearing. She went flying, not tumbling, but launched sideways, her feet skidding across the dirt before she righted herself. She clutched her side, a soft green glow already enveloping her hand as she instantly began to heal the damage. The smirk was gone. Her eyes were wide, not with pain, but with genuine shock.

I didn't pause. I didn't give her a moment to process. I started running at her again.

This time, she was ready. I could see the shift. Her face went neutral, her expression sharpening into one of intense focus. Her stance tightened, her body coiling with power. As I closed in, she didn't try to meet my speed. She slammed a single fist into the ground.

A powerful tremor shot through the earth, the ground rippling towards me, designed to shatter my balance and break my charge. But I was ready for it. Just as the tremor reached my feet, two thick, powerful roots erupted from the ground beneath me. They didn't attack her; they wrapped around my legs and launched me, catapulting me up and over the destabilized earth and into the air.

I was mid-air, a perfect vantage point. I formed the single bird seal. "Wind Style: Wind Bullets," I said, my voice sharp and clear. I spat out a volley of small, compressed bullets of wind, each one a hard, piercing projectile. They weren't powerful enough to seriously injure her, but they forced her to move, to jump and dodge, preventing her from setting up another attack as I landed lightly on my feet, back in my ready stance.

"You're one annoying brat, aren't you?" she growled, her previous shock now replaced by a familiar, competitive fire. She ran towards me.

Call me stupid, call me arrogant, but I met her charge head-on. With [Martial Arts Prodigy] flooding my mind with a new, instinctual level of combat knowledge, I knew something with absolute clarity: when it came to pure taijutsu, nothing in this world would match me. And that was Tsunade's fault. Not a flaw in her as a person, but in her style. She was a finisher. Her true, terrifying combat capability was designed to pop opponents like balloons, to end a fight with a single, chakra-infused blow that could shatter mountains. I wasn't ready to be hit by a force that could crack a Susanoo. But this was a sparring match. She wouldn't use that kind of power. Here, in this close-quarters exchange, her style was less adaptable.

Her form was good, nearly perfect, and left very few openings. But "very few" didn't mean "none." The ground seemed to tremble with each of her powerful strides. She closed the distance and threw a straight, piston-like punch aimed at my chest. Blocking a punch from her, even a casual one, would be like trying to stop a freight train. I didn't try.

Fueled by "Swift," I slipped inside her guard, the world a fraction slower to my perception. My new talent showed me the opening, the fractional shift in her balance as she committed to the blow. I twisted, my fist driving upwards in an uppercut. My mind split. One part focused on the physical battle before me, the other reaching down, sinking my will into the earth beneath her feet.

She was a Sannin, her reflexes honed by decades of battle. She saw the uppercut coming and brought her other arm down in a parry, deflecting the worst of the blow. Still, the impact connected, not cleanly enough to daze her, but with enough force to snap her head back and send her staggering a few steps.

That was the moment. Just as she was planting her feet to regain her balance, the ground beneath her erupted.

Thick roots, as strong as pythons, shot out of the churned earth, coiling around her arms and legs, locking her in place. For a moment, she was genuinely surprised. Then, she grit her teeth, and I saw a flash of the raw power that made her a legend.

"Not bad, brat," she grunted, and then she pulled. The wood groaned and splintered under the sheer, raw power she exerted. The roots around her left arm snapped with a sound like cracking timber. She was about to rip her other arm free. My trap was failing.

There was no time for another physical attack. Just as she tensed her muscles to shatter the remaining bonds, I played my last card. I focused again, sending a different kind of construct forward. A thin, fast root, more like a living vine, snaked through the churning dirt. It shot up and wrapped itself around her waist, a small, ugly-looking bud sprouting from its tip and pressing against her stomach.

She paused, and then her eyes widened. The incredible strength that had been about to tear my construct apart vanished. The struggle ceased instantly. She could feel her own power, her vast chakra reserves, being siphoned away, turned against her.

"Winner, Yuuki-kun," Hiruzen's voice cut through the air, sharp and definitive.

The moment he called the match, I let go. The vines receded back into the earth as if they had never been there. The combined strain was immense. Controlling my stats, fighting a Sannin, and manifesting two different kinds of wood constructs at once... it was too much. The world tilted, and I collapsed to my knees, gasping for breath, my chakra reserves damn near depleted.

I saw a hand hover over me. I briefly wondered if she was petty enough to hit me after I won. Surprisingly, she just offered it, palm open. I took it, and she pulled me to my feet.

She looked impressed, a genuine, wide smile replacing her earlier scowl. "Damn kid, you're supposed to be a Genin?" she said, shaking her head in disbelief. The praise was so direct, so unexpected, that I felt a light blush rise to my cheeks. It felt nice.

"You could have still kicked my ass if you hadn't had to hold back, though," I said, a slight frown returning. It was the truth.

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You've had what? A few months of training, ki— Yuuki?" I appreciated her using my name. "You'll only get better with age. Now, how the fuck are you so freakishly fast and strong?"

Just then, Hiruzen walked over, his expression one of weary amusement. He looked at his student. "I told you he was exceptional, Tsunade. Your first mistake was underestimating him." He then turned his gaze to me. "And your taijutsu has evolved remarkably, Yuuki-kun. Your sensei's lessons are clearly taking root."

That praise led to me explaining my Attribute Distribution as we walked back to the mansion. As expected, Tsunade was immediately fascinated, the scientist in her overriding the brawler. Her questions were sharp and insightful, probing the biological limits and potential applications of the ability. When she asked to observe a few tests, her tone was polite, genuinely curious. I acquiesced, as long as the tests weren't too intrusive.

Her demeanor had completely shifted. She was relaxed now, even laying a hand on my shoulder casually as we walked, pointing out ways that she could have countered me if it had been a real battle. What a weird woman.

After arriving back at the residence, I was dismissed for the day and told to come back tomorrow. I gave a casual salute and left. Man, that spar helped to relax me.

It didn't take long for my mood to get even better. As I reached the edge of the grounds, I heard the familiar sound of confetti. I didn't even flinch this time.

[Achievement Accomplished!]

[Win A Spar Against A Sannin (Tsunade Senju)]

[Achievement Rank: MID]

When I arrived home, I lay down on the futon, focused my will, and decided to roll for the perk immediately.

[Rolling for Mid-Level Reward…]

[Result: Training From Hell]

[Training From Hell] (Talent Chapter)

Blood, sweat, and tears. The cornerstone for all hard work training. It’s just a shame that not everything can be solved by putting your head to that grindstone and beating it till it bleeds. You managed to break that invisible boundary and get the chance to make yourself miserable to solve all your issues. You’ve become able to train anything about yourself. By repeatedly using and abusing some part, power, or aspect of your being, you can slowly start to make it better overall. Want your regeneration speed to work faster? Subject yourself to horrific injuries over and over and over again for a few months and watch yourself regenerate in just a fraction of the time it normally takes you. Want to have more magical energy? Empty out your reserves over and over for a couple weeks and see how many sizes that inner lake grows. So long as you can use it, you can grow it.

Source: UQ Holder

A wry thought cut through the satisfaction. This perk would have been incredibly useful a year ago. Back in the Academy, my entire routine was built around exhausting myself, pushing my body to its absolute limit day after day. That constant cycle of depletion and recovery was already effective. With this? The gains would have been even more absurd.

Still, it wasn't too late. A limit-breaker perk that rewarded pushing past my limits was exactly what I needed. It would help me grow faster, and with Orochimaru and the war breathing down my neck, speed was everything. The core of it was simple: true growth only came from true effort. I couldn't just go through the motions. To get the benefits, I had to actively push myself to the point of failure. Emptying my chakra reserves wasn't just a side effect of training anymore; it was the goal. Training had to be a constant process of abuse and recovery.

AN: I'm somewhat satisfied with how this turned out, I apologise for skipping the week… again. But, in my defense, I do have it pinned that I may need to skip a week. Still, I think the burnout that I was experiencing for this story has decreased — I wouldn't say it's gone entirely, but I've got some ideas, and it's time to start escalating Skitter-style.

A couple things to clarify - I've tried giving Yuuki a bit more personality and “want” for a lack of a better term, which I think that I've not particularly been doing that well. I feel like Yuuki has been very “passive”. 

The fight with Tsunade was a spar. Yuuki isn't nearly at the level of Tsunade, at best he might be able to take her down with him, because again Tsunade’s strength is absurd. 

As usual, please like and comment your thoughts, thank you for your support.