The document currently resting in the Third Hokage’s hands was far more important than an ordinary academy roster.
Every name within had been personally recommended by Konoha Academy’s instructors.
Talent.
Potential.
Combat ability.
Specialized skills.
Background.
The file contained detailed evaluations of Konoha’s most promising future shinobi.
Whenever Hiruzen spotted a particularly outstanding candidate, he would occasionally arrange for elite Jonin to observe that student’s graduation examination.
A strong performance in front of the right person could alter a young shinobi’s future overnight.
After all, most Jonin had little interest in watching dozens of academy students perform basic exercises.
The rankings themselves carried weight.
The higher a student’s placement, the more highly the instructors regarded their abilities.
And at the very top of the list—
Ren Akihara.
Hiruzen narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Ren Akihara, hm?”
“Yes, Lord Hokage.”
Standing nearby was Aoki.
Unlike ordinary academy instructors, Aoki served as the homeroom teacher of the elite class.
The man responsible for guiding students such as Asuma Sarutobi, Obito Uchiha, Kurenai Yuhi, and Rin Nohara.
Despite the fierce competition among those students…
He had ranked Ren first.
Above every other candidate.
Even above the Hokage’s own son.
Aoki nodded without hesitation.
“In my opinion, he deserves that position.”
There were plenty of talented students in the elite class.
Asuma possessed excellent potential.
Obito was an Uchiha.
The heirs of Konoha’s major clans were all impressive in their own right.
And yet Ren still stood above them.
Aoki paused.
Then his eyelid twitched.
Unfortunately…
The boy was insane.
Not medically.
Philosophically.
No normal shinobi thought the way Ren did.
Aoki still had nightmares about the recent infiltration exercise.
The Academy was lucky the Mock Fortress remained partially intact.
If only he acted like a normal ninja…
The instructor sighed inwardly.
Over the past year, he had tried everything.
Counseling.
Lectures.
Additional training.
Private discussions.
Anything that might guide Ren toward a more conventional shinobi mindset.
Nothing worked.
Not even a little.
One particular conversation remained burned into his memory.
“Ren,” Aoki had asked patiently, “what do you do if you encounter an extremely powerful enemy?”
“Kill him.”
“What if you’re facing an unknown organization? Bandits, rogue shinobi, pirates?”
“Kill them too.”
“What if they take hostages?”
“Kill them before they can.”
Aoki had nearly developed a migraine on the spot.
“What if they already have hostages?”
“Then kill them faster.”
The teacher’s eye twitched. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“And if you can’t?”
Ren had looked genuinely confused.
“If the mission requirements exceed my abilities, then I’m too weak.”
Aoki suddenly had a bad feeling.
“Then what?”
“I train for a few days.”
“And then?”
“I come back and kill them.”
Aoki had almost thrown himself out the nearest window.
Wasn’t the point of a hostage rescue mission to save the hostage first?
What about stealth?
Planning?
Tactics?
Negotiation?
Apparently none of those mattered.
According to Ren’s worldview, every problem ultimately had the same root cause.
Insufficient violence.
Throughout the semester, Aoki had repeatedly designed difficult simulation exercises.
Complex missions.
Reconnaissance operations.
Hostage scenarios.
Moral dilemmas.
He had hoped Ren would eventually encounter a situation his philosophy couldn’t solve.
Instead, Ren bulldozed through every challenge.
Sometimes figuratively.
Sometimes literally.
Then, after causing alarming amounts of property damage, he would look at the instructors and ask a single question.
“Did the mission succeed?”
The infuriating part was that nobody knew how to answer.
Because somehow…
It always had.
The White Fang of Konoha had once been condemned for choosing comrades over mission success.
The shinobi world valued results.
Not intentions.
Not effort.
Results.
And Ren produced results every single time.
His methods were ridiculous.
His tactics were questionable.
His planning was practically nonexistent.
But the mission always succeeded.
That fact alone made it surprisingly difficult to criticize him.
Which was why, despite everything…
Ren Akihara remained the Academy’s top student.
“Ren Akihara…”
Hiruzen exhaled a slow stream of smoke.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
He remembered the boy.
Quite clearly, in fact.
Over the years, he had visited the Academy many times to speak about the Will of Fire.
Most children asked predictable questions.
“Lord Hokage, how strong are you?”
“I want to become Hokage someday!”
“I’ll dedicate my life to protecting Konoha!”
Then there had been Ren.
A child who enthusiastically raised his hand and asked:
“Lord Hokage, can we fight?”
Not train.
Not spar.
Fight. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
And when Hiruzen politely declined…
The boy had looked genuinely disappointed.
It was not an experience one easily forgot.
That evening, Hiruzen returned to the Sarutobi residence with the evaluation files still in hand.
He had yet to finalize the Jonin assignments for the upcoming graduation examinations.
Despite being Hokage, he couldn’t simply order elite shinobi around whenever he pleased.
Jonin formed the backbone of Konoha’s military leadership.
Their opinions mattered.
Especially now.
The atmosphere throughout the shinobi world was becoming increasingly unstable.
Tensions between nations continued to rise.
The signs were unmistakable.
War clouds were gathering on the horizon.
Every powerful shinobi represented a valuable asset.
“Perhaps a taijutsu specialist for the Hyuga candidates…”
Hiruzen muttered while reviewing the files.
“A clan-affiliated Jonin could supervise one of the rookie teams.”
“The current Ino-Shika-Cho generation isn’t quite as talented as the previous one. They’ll need strong guidance.”
He continued organizing future team assignments.
Then he paused.
A familiar chakra signature approached.
“Father.”
Hiruzen didn’t even need to look up.
At his level, recognizing chakra signatures had become second nature.
“Asuma.”
The Third Hokage glanced over his shoulder.
Then raised an eyebrow.
His son looked terrible.
Bruises covered his face.
One eye was swollen.
His expression suggested he had recently lost a battle against a runaway carriage.
Or perhaps an angry bear.
“What happened to you?”
Asuma’s expression darkened immediately.
A familiar face flashed through his mind.
Ren Akihara.
Again.
Normally, Asuma hated asking his father for help.
He considered it embarrassing.
Worse, he didn’t want people thinking he relied on his status as the Hokage’s son.
Whenever Ren had beaten him up before, he had endured it himself.
But this time…
This time was different.
A dangerous fire ignited in his eyes.
His fists clenched.
His jaw tightened.
Because Ren had crossed a line.
A sacred line.
An unforgivable line.
You can beat me up.
You can humiliate me.
You can use me as a training dummy.
Fine.
Whatever.
But trying to steal Kurenai?
Asuma’s face twisted.
His resolve hardened instantly.
That’s it.
No more mercy.
I’m telling Dad.
And somewhere else in Konoha, completely unaware of the catastrophe heading his way—
Ren suddenly sneezed.