At daybreak the next morning, Ryū arrived right on time at the Uchiha clan’s private Training Ground No.
7.
The moment he stepped inside, he immediately understood what people meant by the “foundation of a noble clan.” The ground was paved with solid bluestone, clearly reinforced to withstand high-intensity ninjutsu impacts.
Lining the edge of the field were not the flimsy wooden posts used at the Ninja Academy, but humanoid training dummies carved from iron birch, complete with articulated joints.
Scorch marks from fire and deep cuts from bladed weapons still lingered on their surfaces.
Even the air itself seemed to carry the aura of strength.
Uchiha Nain had been waiting for him.
She was dressed in a sleek black training outfit that fit closely to her body, outlining her figure while allowing complete freedom of movement.
Her long black hair was tied high into a ponytail, giving her a sharper, more heroic look than usual.
When she saw Ryū, she didn’t waste a single word.
She merely crooked a finger at him in cold provocation.
The next instant, her hands were already forming hand seals.
“Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!” No probing.
No hesitation.
She went all out from the very start.
A massive fireball—more than two meters across—roared forward, heat waves distorting the air as it crashed toward Ryū.
Just before it struck, Ryū’s figure blurred and vanished, reappearing several meters to the side.
Body Flicker Technique.
After days of nonstop grinding, his Body Flicker Technique had already reached Level 3.
His speed was now noticeably faster than when he had fought Kakashi.
The fireball slammed into the ground and exploded with a deafening roar, sending gravel flying.
“Not bad reflexes,” Nain snorted.
Her hands moved again, her attacks coming one after another like relentless waves.
But today’s Ryū was nothing like the boy who had relied on the Three Basic Jutsu to barely hold his ground a few days earlier.
His figure split into fleeting afterimages as he moved across the field.
Every flicker placed him in a position Nain never anticipated.
Her Fire Release was fierce and powerful—yet she couldn’t even graze the hem of his clothes.
“Your fireball trajectory is too linear.” Ryū’s voice sounded from behind her, slightly to the left, like a ghost whispering in her ear.
Nain jolted in shock and instinctively spun into a backhand whip kick.
She hit nothing.
The afterimage dispersed slowly in the air.
“There’s a half-second delay when you transition between taijutsu movements.” His voice came again, this time from her right.
“Shut up!” Completely enraged, Nain abandoned ninjutsu altogether.
Like a furious leopardess, she lunged straight at Ryū.
Her fists and kicks tore through the air with sharp whistles.
The Uchiha clan’s taijutsu foundation was indeed solid.
Unfortunately for her, her opponent was Ryū.
He refused to meet her head-on.
Relying on speed and reflexes far superior to hers, he weaved and evaded with effortless precision.
He was like a seasoned matador, sidestepping at the very last instant each time her attacks were about to connect.
Nain felt as though she was pouring all her strength into the fight, yet it was like striking a ball of cotton—soft, yielding, and utterly infuriating.
After more than a dozen exchanges, her breathing grew ragged.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.
Ryū’s breathing, however, remained perfectly steady.
He seized the brief moment when her old strength was spent and her new strength had yet to rise.
In a flicker, he appeared directly in front of her.
He didn’t attack.
He simply raised a finger and gently tapped her forehead.
All of Nain’s movements stopped instantly.
She froze in place, staring at the calm face just inches away, her mind completely blank.
“Your arrogance,” Ryū said evenly, “is your greatest enemy.” He withdrew his hand and stepped back, opening the distance between them.
The words struck Nain like a heavy hammer.
At first came anger—her fair face flushed red as she tried to retort.
But no words came.
Because she knew he was right.
Then came shock.
Shock at Ryū’s growth.
How long had it been?
His strength had clearly reached an entirely new level.
Finally came unwillingness.
A deep, bitter unwillingness wrapped around her heart like vines.
“I—I just haven’t awakened the Sharingan yet!” Nain bit her lip, clinging to the excuse as if to encourage herself.
“Once I awaken the Uchiha clan’s Sharingan, I’ll beat you until you’re crawling on the ground looking for your teeth!” Ryū looked at her tsundere expression—words and feelings completely at odds—and simply smiled without replying.
“Today’s sparring is over.
You can go.” “You—!” Nain nearly exploded.
This guy was dismissing her outright?
But when her gaze met Ryū’s eyes—calm, unwavering, without a single ripple—she couldn’t force out any harsh words.
She let out a heavy snort, turned around, and stormed out of the training ground.
That retreating figure looked less like indignation and more like someone fleeing in panic.
Once the “sparring partner who also delivered money” was gone, Ryū finally let out a long breath.
He sat down cross-legged and began tallying his gains.
Between the Uchiha clan’s “angel investment” and the sparring fees he had “amicably negotiated” from Nain over the past few days, his personal funds had grown to a very respectable amount.
Money?
He had it.
Top-tier training grounds?
Covered.
What remained was time.
Ryū solemnly took out the scroll his father had left behind from his ninja tool pouch.
Wind Style: Great Breakthrough.
A C-rank ninjutsu.
At present, this was the only offensive ninjutsu he could reliably access.
He had no intention of buying the expensive chakra-affinity testing paper.
In his eyes, it was a complete waste of money.
For someone with a system, if a technique could appear on the proficiency panel, that alone meant he was qualified to cultivate it.
Talent?
What good was talent—could it be eaten?
As long as he could grind, nothing was impossible.
He opened the scroll and carefully read every word.
The first and most critical step in mastering Wind Release was nature transformation—granting formless chakra the attribute of cutting.
The most basic training method was simple: use chakra to slice a leaf.
Ryū walked beneath a large tree at the edge of the training ground, plucked a fresh leaf, and placed it in his palm.
Closing his eyes, he followed the instructions in the scroll and began circulating chakra through his body.
He could clearly feel the energy flowing through his chakra pathways, gathering in his hand.
Then he tried to compress it, imagining it becoming an invisible blade.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
The leaf trembled slightly—but not even a single crease appeared.
[Ding!
Wind Style: Great Breakthrough, Proficiency +1] Ryū opened his eyes.
Not discouraged in the slightest, his gaze instead lit up with excitement.
It appeared on the panel.
[Ding!
Wind Style: Great Breakthrough — Lv.0 (1/100)] One point was enough.
It meant the path worked.
His spirits soared.
What followed was simple: nonstop repetition.
He refused to believe that, with the soul of a former corporate slave, he couldn’t grind through something as basic as nature transformation.
Ryū closed his eyes again, fully immersing himself in the flow of chakra.
He could feel the wind.
Hear the rustle of leaves.
His heart burned with motivation.
With resources.
With a proper training ground.
This once-content “salted fish” finally had a chance to flip over.
His growth rate would enter an unprecedented fast lane.
Ryū opened his eyes and looked into the distance.
The village lay peaceful and quiet under the morning light.
But he knew the shadow of war had never truly left.
He needed to be faster.
Stronger.
His next goal was clear— Grind this C-rank ninjutsu to the maximum level.