He clenched his fist tightly, feeling the surges of power rushing through his muscles—far stronger than yesterday.
“So that’s how it works…” Makoto Uchiha murmured to himself.
“Makoto?
What did you say?” Guy asked, tilting his head.
“Nothing.” Makoto snapped back to reality and smiled.
“Come on, I’ll teach you the principle.
But this is trickier than regular Tekkai, so be prepared.” “Youth fears no hardship!” Guy gave a thumbs-up, his teeth flashing a brilliant sparkle.
Teaching Guy was far easier than teaching Obito.
Guy might be straightforward to a fault, but his talent for taijutsu was truly astonishing.
Makoto only demonstrated it three times and explained the principle five times before Guy managed to harden just his palms.
Though it only lasted for half a second, and his entire arm trembled violently afterward.
“I…
I did it!” Guy stared at his right hand, which gleamed with a metallic luster, tears of excitement brimming in his eyes.
“Makoto!
I succeeded!” “You’re still a long way off,” Makoto said, though he was quite satisfied inwardly.
Obito had trained for a whole day, and even now his entire body would stiffen up like he had been hit with a paralysis jutsu.
Still, even if Guy was doing well, Makoto wouldn’t let him slack off.
That relentless drive was precisely why Guy succeeded.
“Keep practicing,” Makoto said.
“Train until you can use it in actual combat.” “Yes!” Watching Guy attempt to harden his hands while doing handstands, Makoto walked over to the shade of a tree, sat down, and began to think.
The system’s mechanism was becoming clearer.
First, for the same lie told to different people, the manifestation percentage could stack.
Obito’s 80% plus Guy’s 70% pushed it straight past 100%, triggering a qualitative leap.
Second, the manifestation effect was tied to the target’s “perceived upper limit.” Obito thought Tekkai was just making the body a bit harder, so the manifested result was ordinary hardness.
Guy believed Tekkai should be hard enough to deflect swords, so the manifested version was far tougher.
*Cognition dictates the limit!* Makoto stroked his chin.
*Looks like in the future, I don’t just need them to believe me—I also have to find ways to expand their cognition.* For instance, if he could make Guy believe that “at its absolute peak, Tekkai can withstand a Tailed Beast Ball,” what would manifest then?
Just thinking about it gave Makoto a thrill.
But here came the problem: how could he get Guy to believe that?
If you told a hot-headed idiot who hadn’t even mastered basic chakra nature transformation about a “Tailed Beast Ball,” he’d probably think you were talking about a new flavor of dango.
“There’s a long road ahead!” Makoto sighed.
Still, at least it was a good start.
Flowing Iron Body was fully manifested, and its effect exceeded expectations.
Next was getting Obito to master it as soon as possible.
Even at an entry level, as long as he could use it in real combat, he shouldn’t lose the next match.
As for other high-level applications…
Makoto recalled CP9’s techniques from the anime in his previous life: *Tekkai: Steel*, *Tekkai: Wheel*, *Tekkai: Utsugi*…
Those required higher trust, or a much more concrete cognition.
He couldn’t rush it.
“One step at a time.” He stood up, dusting off his pants.
“Let’s deal with the task at hand first.” Over on the training ground, Guy was already able to do handstand push-ups while hardening his hands the exact moment they touched the ground.
Even if each instance only lasted 0.3 seconds and he had to gasp for breath after just one rep, he was making progress.
Makoto walked over.
“Guy, take a break.
Haste makes waste.” “But Makoto!
Youth never stops!” “Pausing is so you can run further,” Makoto said, pulling him up.
“Come on, I’ll buy you ramen.” “Really?!” “When have I ever lied to you?” Guy’s eyes lit up again.
In his mind, Makoto added: *Well, except for those “white lies” meant to help you get stronger.* *** When training ended that night, Makoto pushed open his creaky wooden door, dust billowing up and causing him to sneeze.
“Achoo!” He rubbed his nose, squinting as he surveyed this place he called “home.” Calling it a home was generous; it was barely any different from an abandoned house.
Cobwebs hung in the corners, one of the table legs was crooked, and a hole in the window paper rattled noisily whenever the wind blew.
“I’m back,” he said to the empty room.
No answer—only the sound of rats scurrying across the ceiling rafters.
*Grumble—* Makoto looked down at his stomach and sighed.
The original owner’s parents had died in battle three years ago.
They left behind this house and a small monthly allowance from the clan, barely enough for some rice and pickled vegetables.
It kept him from starving, but that was about it.
He walked over to the stove and uncovered the rice jar.
A thin, painfully white layer of rice remained at the bottom.
“Alright then.” Makoto scooped out half a bowl, washed it, threw it into the pot, then grabbed a few pickled vegetables from a jar, chopped them up, and tossed them in as well.
A pot of salted vegetable porridge.
He squatted before the stove, watching the flames lick the bottom of the pot, their glow flickering across his face.
Once the porridge was done, Makoto ladled out a bowl and sat down at the wobbly table.
The porridge was watery and the pickles were extremely salty.
He downed the entire bowl in one go, but his stomach was still rumbling.
“Something’s wrong.” He set the bowl down and rubbed his stomach.
Hungry.
Intensely hungry.
Makoto frowned.
*Is it because of the system?* He remembered using the Lie-to-Reality System frequently over the past few days, manifesting Tekkai and altering his physical constitution.
After all, this body of his was essentially still a child’s.
The energy consumption required to support his system-enhanced body was likely far beyond what a child of his age could sustain.
“I need to make some money,” Makoto said, staring at the empty bowl.
“Otherwise, forget about training—I might literally starve to death.” The question was: how?
Makoto pondered for a long time, his gaze finally resting outside the window.
There was a tree out there, and under the tree, a hole.
*** The next day.
“Obito!” At the edge of the training ground, Makoto found Obito, who had just finished training and was drenched in sweat.
“Brother Makoto!” Obito’s eyes lit up.
“Are we practicing Flowing Iron Body today?
I can already harden half my body!” “We’ll talk about that later.” Makoto pulled him aside and lowered his voice.
“Let me ask you something.” “What is it?” Obito leaned in close.
“Do you believe…
there’s a treasure tree hole in this world?” Obito froze for a moment.
“A treasure tree hole?” “You know,” Makoto gestured, “a hole under a huge tree containing buried treasure left by someone—maybe gold and silver jewels, or maybe…” “Money?” Obito chimed in.
“Right.” Makoto stared at him.
“A lot of money.
Maybe one million ryo?” “O-One million ryo?!” Obito’s eyes went wide as saucers.
“Brother Makoto, you’re joking, right?
Who would put money in a tree hole?!” “I’m not joking,” Makoto said with a grave expression.
“I actually found one.
Right downstream along the Naka River, beneath the largest cedar tree.
The hole is very deep.
I shined a flashlight inside, and it was full of money pouches.
I roughly estimated at least one million ryo.” Obito stood mouth agape, unable to speak for half a beat.
One million ryo!