The item’s description was remarkably simple.
[Skill Upgrade Scroll (Gold): Upgrades any Gold-rank skill or lower by one rank. The scroll is consumed upon use.]
Ren’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Now that’s useful.”
Normally, upgrading a skill required a ridiculous amount of EXP.
Bronze to Silver cost ten thousand points.
Silver to Gold cost one hundred thousand.
Gold to the next rank?
One million.
A full million EXP.
By that standard, the scroll was worth an absurd amount.
His gaze shifted to his status screen.
[Host: Ren Akihara]
[Skills:]
Feast (Mythic)
War Cry (Silver)
Mountain Crusher Strike (Silver)
Berserk (Gold)
Wild Instinct (Bronze)
[Experience Points: 17,299]
Technically, he could use the scroll on a lower-ranked skill.
Technically.
That would also be incredibly stupid.
“First, I’ll upgrade Wild Instinct with EXP…”
Ren reached toward the interface.
Then paused.
The door opened.
Orochimaru stepped inside.
“Ren.”
The Sannin’s expression was unusually serious.
“Lord Third has received the responses from the other villages.”
“The participating genin should begin arriving in Konoha within the next few days.”
“Oh.”
Ren nodded.
The Chunin Exams.
Right.
The event where large numbers of people would gather and fight each other.
A very promising event.
Orochimaru watched him for a moment.
The truth was, he wasn’t worried about Ren passing.
Not even remotely.
Although the exams would gather talented young shinobi from across the continent, talent still had limits.
After two months of relentless growth, Ren’s physical abilities had become difficult to describe with conventional standards.
Finding a genin capable of matching him in direct combat would be extraordinarily difficult.
Passing the exams?
Easy.
Dominating them?
Probably easy as well.
At least according to the standards of previous Chunin Exams.
The problem was uncertainty.
History had a habit of producing unpleasant surprises.
A Chunin Exam could turn into a battlefield overnight.
Powerful shinobi, village conspiracies, rogue ninja, political conflicts…
The exam itself was often the least dangerous part.
Even jonin couldn’t guarantee survival if events spiraled out of control.
And Hiruzen’s goal wasn’t simply for Ren to win.
He wanted Ren to overwhelm the competition so completely that every village present would reconsider the idea of provoking Konoha.
After a brief silence, Orochimaru spoke again.
“Does Eating Release have any associated techniques?”
Ren blinked.
“Associated techniques?”
“Most bloodline abilities do.”
Orochimaru folded his arms.
“The Sharingan has its ocular techniques.”
“The Dead Bone Pulse has specialized combat methods.”
“A unique ability often creates unique jutsu.”
The Chunin Exams were approaching quickly.
Any hidden trump card could make a difference.
“If you have one, I can spend the remaining time helping you incorporate it into combat.”
Ren froze.
Then his eyes brightened.
Live sparring.
With Orochimaru.
The answer came instantly.
“Yes.”
Orochimaru raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?”
“I do.”
Without hesitation, Ren opened his skill menu.
Then he used the Skill Upgrade Scroll on Berserk.
A flash of light erupted before his eyes.
[Gold Skill: Berserk → Upgraded.]
[Skill Rank Increased.]
A flood of new information poured into his mind.
Ren’s grin widened.
Perfect.
This was perfect.
If there was ever a skill that could pass as an Eating Release secret art…
It was this one.
He looked directly at Orochimaru.
“One of Eating Release’s associated techniques…”
His smile widened.
“…is called Berserk.”
Time passed.
As the exam date approached, shinobi teams from every corner of the continent began arriving in Konoha.
Kumogakure
“So this is Konoha?”
A Cloud genin scanned the bustling streets.
The confidence in his posture bordered on arrogance.
“Weak.”
He snorted.
“They sit on the richest land in the world and produce people like this?”
One of his teammates laughed.
“Maybe comfort made them soft.”
Their jonin instructor smirked.
“We’ve already gathered intelligence on Konoha’s younger generation.”
“Besides Kakashi Hatake, who exactly is worth mentioning?”
The students exchanged glances.
No one answered.
Kakashi’s reputation was famous even outside the Land of Fire.
The White Fang’s son had displayed monstrous talent from childhood.
But there was one issue.
“Kakashi is already a chunin.”
“Exactly.”
The jonin nodded.
“This is the Chunin Exam.”
“Only genin are eligible.”
He shook his head.
“If Konoha wanted to impress anyone, they should have hosted this event while Kakashi was still participating.”
“Doing it now?”
A laugh escaped him.
“What are they thinking?”
Everyone understood Konoha’s situation.
The Land of Lightning.
The Land of Earth.
The Land of Wind.
Pressure was increasing on every border.
And everyone knew another uncomfortable truth.
Konoha’s current generation appeared unimpressive.
At least on paper.
The Third Hokage’s decision looked increasingly desperate.
“I heard they’re even entering a team that graduated recently.”
One of the genin chuckled.
“That sounds like panic.”
The group laughed.
None of them looked concerned.
Not even a little.
Kirigakure
“Konoha’s weather is nice.”
A shark-faced boy narrowed his eyes.
Rows of sharp teeth flashed.
“It almost makes me want to take a nap.”
Kisame Hoshigaki.
Still a genin.
Already unsettling.
Standing beside him was his superior.
Fuguki Suikazan.
The future wielder of Samehada.
The large man grinned.
“Comfortable, isn’t it?”
“A shame a place like this belongs to weaklings.”
His smile widened.
“Kisame.”
“It’s time for Konoha’s sheep to learn what shinobi raised in the Bloody Mist are capable of.”
For a moment, Kisame remained silent.
Something unreadable flickered through his eyes.
Then he nodded.
“Understood.”
Meanwhile, inside the Hokage Tower…
Hiruzen stood before the window overlooking the village.
Below, Konoha was alive with activity.
Foreign shinobi filled the streets.
Merchants celebrated the influx of visitors.
The entire village buzzed with anticipation.
The Chunin Exams had finally begun.
A long sigh escaped him.
The situation wasn’t ideal.
The Cloud shinobi weren’t entirely wrong.
Compared to previous generations, Konoha’s young talent looked disappointing.
And the world itself was growing increasingly unstable.
The atmosphere felt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Which was why so much rested on a single person.
Ren Akihara.
Turning away from the window, Hiruzen looked toward Orochimaru.
For what felt like the tenth time that week, he asked the same question.
“Orochimaru.”
“Are you certain Ren is ready?”
It wasn’t a matter of trust.
The stakes were simply too high.
Orochimaru heard the question.
Then his body stiffened.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
He raised a hand to his chest.
The memory resurfaced immediately.
Their last sparring session.
The upgraded Berserk.
That punch.
That horrifying punch.
For one brief moment, Orochimaru had genuinely believed he was about to die.
Silence filled the office.
Hiruzen frowned.
“Orochimaru?”
The Sannin’s expression twitched.
After a long pause, he finally spoke.
“…Sensei.”
“Hm?”
Orochimaru looked out the window at the foreign shinobi moving through Konoha’s streets.
Then he remembered that punch again.
The corner of his eye twitched.
“I think the villages attending this year’s exam should start worrying about their children.”
For the first time in many years…
Orochimaru almost felt sorry for the competition.