Aoki was fast, his movements textbook perfect.
Leaning his upper body forward, lowering his center of gravity, he raised his right leg and delivered a textbook Uchiha-style front kick straight at Obito’s chest.
He put eighty percent of his strength into this kick.
Not out of mercy, but out of fear of killing him.
After all, this was just a combat practice class, not a fight to the death.
Even so, eighty percent power was enough to put Obito in bed for a few days.
“It’s over,” Lackey Number One whispered.
“Should’ve been over long ago,” Lackey Number Two agreed.
Rin Nohara covered her eyes, unable to watch.
Nakamura-sensei was already opening his mouth to call a halt.
Only Makoto Uchiha stood with arms crossed, a faint, subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips.
The kick landed.
Aoki’s foot struck Obito squarely in the chest.
*Bang—!* The sound was dull, like kicking a concrete wall.
Yet Obito didn’t budge.
He didn’t even sway in the slightest.
Aoki’s expression turned from confidence to confusion to sheer shock in the span of a single second.
He felt as though his foot had smashed into a solid plate of steel.
And what was worse…
“Hss—” Aoki gasped sharply, stumbling a step back as he landed.
A searing, excruciating pain radiated through his right leg, from his ankle up to his calf.
It wasn’t an injury from the kick itself.
It was shockwave recoil.
It was like punching a wall with all your strength—the wall remains intact, but your bones fracture.
That was precisely what Aoki felt right now.
He stood there, his right leg trembling slightly, his face pale.
The sidelines went dead silent.
Everyone stared at Obito.
Obito opened his eyes.
He looked at Aoki with an entirely calm expression.
“Finished kicking?” he asked.
Aoki opened his mouth, unable to produce a sound.
“Then it’s my turn,” Obito said.
Then he moved.
He didn’t rush, nor did he jump.
He simply took a plain, ordinary step forward, raised his right fist, and threw a punch.
The movement was neither fast nor fancy.
It was just the most basic straight punch.
Yet Aoki couldn’t dodge it.
His right leg was still throbbing in pain, his balance was off, and his reactions were half a beat slow.
He could only raise his arm to block.
*Bang!* But he was still too slow, and the fist slammed straight into his face.
Aoki flew backward through the air, tracing an ungraceful arc before crashing hard onto the ground.
Dust billowed, and a deathly silence blanketed the arena.
Everyone froze in whatever pose they were in—gaping, wide-eyed, or covering their faces.
It was as if someone had pressed the pause button.
Nakamura-sensei was the first to recover, rushing into the ring.
“Aoki!
Aoki, are you alright?” Aoki lay on the ground, silent.
Only one thought echoed in his mind: *What…
just happened?* He kicked Obito, Obito was fine, and his own leg hurt like crazy.
Then Obito punched him once, and he went flying.
Did that make any sense?
That didn’t make any sense at all!
Nakamura-sensei checked Aoki over and let out a sigh of relief.
No broken bones, no internal injuries—just a bruise on his face and a slightly swollen right ankle.
“Can you still stand?” Nakamura-sensei asked.
Aoki tried, barely pushing himself up, but didn’t dare put weight on his right foot.
The outcome was decided; Aoki Uchiha no longer had the strength to fight.
“First match,” Nakamura-sensei looked at Obito, then at Aoki, and announced, “Obito Uchiha wins!” The moment the announcement fell, the sidelines exploded.
“He won?
Obito won?” “Aoki lost?
How is that possible!” “What happened just now?
How did Obito suddenly…” “Did he use some kind of Ninjutsu?” “Ninjutsu?
But he didn’t weave any hand seals!” “Then what was that?
Taijutsu?
What kind of Taijutsu can tank a kick head-on and immediately counter?” The students buzzed with intense discussion, the way they looked at Obito completely transformed.
Before, it was: “Oh, Obito, that Dead-last.” Now, it was: “Holy crap, Obito is that tough?” Rin Nohara was the first to rush into the ring, running right up to Obito.
“Obito!
Are you alright?” She nervously inspected Obito’s chest.
“Aoki’s kick was really heavy.
Are you…” “I’m fine,” Obito grinned widely and slapped his chest.
“Not a thing wrong with me.” He was telling the truth.
Under the Iron Body state, Aoki’s kick was no different from a light scratch.
Rin Nohara looked at him, her eyes sparkling.
“Obito, you’re amazing!” Obito blushed.
“I-It was okay, I guess,” he scratched his head.
“Mainly because Brother Makoto taught me well.” “Brother Makoto?” Rin Nohara turned to look at Makoto Uchiha at the side of the ring.
Makoto Uchiha gave her a nod.
On the other side, Might Guy stared at Obito, his eyes gleaming.
When he trained in Iron Body before, he always felt the technique was too passive—you couldn’t move and could only take hits.
But Obito’s demonstration just now gave him a whole new perspective.
Being unable to move didn’t mean you couldn’t hit back.
As long as you endured the initial strike, the opportunity to counterattack would present itself.
“I need to master it like that too!” Guy clenched his fists, his blood boiling with passion.
As Obito walked off the field, the students automatically parted to make a path for him.
No one called him “Dead-last” anymore.
Aoki’s two lackeys turned pale; just moments ago, they had mocked Obito, saying “a Dead-last will always be a Dead-last.” Now…
Aoki limped off the field, pausing briefly as he passed Obito.
“You…” He stared at Obito.
“What was that just now?” “Taijutsu,” Obito replied.
“What Taijutsu?” “Iron Body.” “Iron Body?” Aoki frowned.
“Never heard of it.” Obito merely giggled silly—after all, he had beaten Aoki, but Makoto had told him not to reveal that Iron Body was a technique he had created himself.
So Obito made no effort to explain where Iron Body came from.
Aoki stared at him for a few seconds before lowering his head.
“I lost,” he said, turning around and walking away.
His back looked somewhat lonely.
Obito watched him leave without speaking.
He had won.
He had beaten Aoki.
The Aoki who had bullied him, mocked him, and told him he “wasn’t worthy of being an Uchiha” since childhood.
He won.
“How does it feel?” Makoto Uchiha walked over and patted his shoulder.
“Awesome,” Obito grinned.
“Seriously awesome.” “Good,” Makoto Uchiha smiled as well.
“Remember this feeling.
In the future, whenever anyone calls you a Dead-last, use your fists to tell them you aren’t.” “Mm!” Obito nodded vigorously.
The rest of the combat practice class wasn’t much to look at.
What kind of brilliant duels could first-year students put on anyway?
It was nothing more than trading punches and kicks, occasionally throwing a shuriken while being careful not to miss and hit the spectators.
Asuma fought a civilian student and finished the fight in three moves.
Guy faced a boy with glasses and knocked him flat with a single punch.
Flat on his face, literally—the boy couldn’t get up for quite a while.
Nakamura-sensei hurriedly declared Guy the winner and went over to check on the boy’s injuries.
“Guy, go easy,” Nakamura-sensei said helplessly.
“This is just practice, not a life-or-death battle.” “I’m sorry, Sensei!” Guy bowed deeply.
“I got too excited!” He really was excited.
Seeing Obito win made him want to win too.
To win beautifully, to win decisively.
Standing at the edge of the field, Makoto Uchiha watched this “clash of noobs” and breathed a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, Aoki was only a first-year.
Fortunately, he hadn’t learned the Great Fireball Jutsu yet.
Fortunately, his battle IQ wasn’t high.
Seeing Obito take that strange posture, he actually kicked straight into it.
If Aoki had half a brain and probed with a shuriken first or toyed with him using footwork, Obito would have been exposed.
What was Iron Body’s biggest weakness?
You couldn’t move.
Once Iron Body was activated, Obito became a sitting target.
As long as Aoki kept his distance and wore him down from afar, Obito would definitely lose.
But Aoki didn’t do that.
He chose the simplest, most direct method: head-on brute force.
And ended up kicking a steel plate.
Literally a steel plate.
Then again, first-year students didn’t have many tactics; most only knew how to charge in recklessly.
*Luck is also a part of strength,* Makoto Uchiha thought.
Obito winning was all that mattered.
By winning, he could continue to “develop” more “Ninjutsu.” By winning, those NPCs—oh wait, his classmates—would believe his words.
By winning, he could make up stories even more recklessly.
Anyway, Obito believed it, and Guy believed it too.
Makoto Uchiha looked at Guy in the ring, then at Obito beside him.
Obito was surrounded by several classmates asking him endless questions.
“Obito, how did you train that Iron Body technique?” “Can you teach me?” “Does it require a lot of Chakra?” “Alright, next group get ready!” Nakamura-sensei’s voice called out.