The aftermath of becoming famous from a single battle was far more intense than Ryū had imagined.
Overnight, the name Kazama Ryū changed from “pitiful war orphan” to “scheming kid who plays weak to strike hard.” Along with that reputation came a hefty reward—one thousand ryō.
That night, Ryū poured the heavy money pouch onto the table and counted each coin one by one, his movements solemn, as if performing a sacred ritual.
Money was courage.
Money was security.
Money was the fuel that allowed him to continue cultivating.
He opened the system panel he hadn’t checked in a while.
[Name: Kazama Ryū] [Age: 6] [Constitution: 5] [Spirit: 7] [Chakra: 215 / 215] [Skills:] [Chakra Extraction Technique: Lv.2 (18 / 600)] [Clone Technique: Lv.3 (MAX)] [Transformation Technique: Lv.2 (588 / 600)] [Substitution Technique: Lv.2 (595 / 600)] [Basic Taijutsu: Lv.2 (543 / 600)] [Ninja Tool Throwing: Lv.1 (112 / 300)] [Chakra Control: Lv.2 (401 / 600)] When his eyes landed on the golden “MAX” beside Clone Technique, Ryū’s heart skipped a beat.
At the exact moment the technique reached its maximum level, it felt as if a dust-covered door had been pushed open in his mind.
Everything about the Clone Technique no longer required conscious thought—it had become pure instinct, like breathing or drinking water.
Even better, that sense of clarity seemed to overflow slightly, flowing into Transformation Technique and Substitution Technique as well.
Ryū could clearly feel it—if he practiced those two again, his efficiency would noticeably increase.
“So maxing out a skill can grant a small talent bonus too?” His heart stirred.
“This is… way too good.” In his mind, he could already see it—a broad, smooth road stretching into the distance.
As long as the foundation was laid firmly enough, the path ahead would only grow wider.
— The next day, the aftershocks of the duel began to spread.
The moment Ryū stepped through the academy gates, countless gazes locked onto him like searchlights.
Curiosity.
Jealousy.
Disdain.
And… fighting spirit.
Before he even reached the classroom, someone stopped him.
Not Asuma.
Someone he hadn’t expected.
Uchiha Nao.
The girl looked as cold as ever—long black hair, fair skin, her posture proud like a little swan.
She crossed her arms and studied Ryū with her dark eyes, as if appraising a piece of merchandise.
“Two thousand ryō.” She went straight to the point, her voice flat and emotionless.
“Fight me.” Ryū froze for a split second, then smiled.
Looking at the proud Uchiha girl in front of him, only one thought filled his mind: What a good person—another walking money pouch has arrived.
The Uchiha clan was the wealthiest family in Konoha.
They definitely weren’t short on cash.
“Sure.” Ryū nodded readily, agreeing even faster than she had.
“You decide the time and place.
I only have one request.” He raised a finger and waved it in front of her.
“Pay first.
Fight later.
No credit.” The corner of Uchiha Nao’s mouth twitched slightly.
She took out a heavy purse from her ninja pouch and tossed it over.
“After school.
Training Ground No.
3.
Don’t disappoint me.” With that, she turned and left, her back radiating cool arrogance.
Ryū weighed the money pouch in his hand, his smile growing even more genuine.
Thus began a sustainable path of harvesting leeks.
— After school, Ryū didn’t head to the training ground immediately.
Someone was already waiting along the road home.
An elderly man with gray hair, dressed in a Ninja Academy instructor’s uniform.
His face was lined with wrinkles, yet his back remained straight.
“Kazama Ryū,” the old man said, his voice hoarse.
Ryū recognized him instantly—a low-profile senior instructor at the academy.
“Igarashi-sensei.” He bowed respectfully.
Igarashi Toru looked at him, his cloudy eyes filled with complicated emotions.
“You did well yesterday.” “It was just luck,” Ryū replied modestly.
“Luck?” Igarashi chuckled and shook his head.
“Your father, Kazama Makoto, would never fight that way.
He was the kind of man who advanced head-on, without retreat.” Ryū’s heart stirred.
So this was an old acquaintance of his father.
“The Three Basic Jutsu are the foundation of a ninja,” Igarashi continued seriously.
“But a foundation doesn’t mean something simple.
Your timing is excellent—but that’s cleverness.
A true powerhouse has a foundation as solid as a mountain.” As he spoke, he walked up to a large tree, attached chakra to the soles of his feet, and walked upward step by step as if on level ground.
“Go back and practice tree climbing.
When you can reach the top without using your hands, then you can start water walking.” The old man came back down and looked at Ryū deeply.
“That man Makoto would be proud of you.
Don’t let him down.” With that, he turned and slowly walked away.
Ryū remained where he was, bowing deeply once more toward the old man’s retreating back.
— Meanwhile, inside the Hokage’s office.
The Third Hokage puffed on his pipe, watching the scene reflected in the crystal ball.
The duel between Ryū and Asuma replayed again and again.
“Interesting.” Hiruzen Sarutobi exhaled a smoke ring, his eyes growing deep within the drifting smoke.
What he saw wasn’t a child’s lucky victory.
He saw a hunter—using the simplest tools to predict his opponent, lay a trap, and calmly toy with a self-righteous beast.
That composure, that insight into human behavior—it didn’t resemble a six-year-old at all.
“Come in.” An ANBU appeared silently.
“Summon Kazama Ryū’s academy instructor.” Soon, Ryū’s homeroom teacher stood before the Hokage, trembling with fear.
“Kazama Ryū…” Hiruzen asked calmly.
“How well do you understand this child?” “R-reporting to Hokage-sama,” the teacher wiped away cold sweat.
“Ryū used to be very ordinary.
After his father passed away, he became quiet, but his grades steadily improved.
He’s extremely hardworking.” “What is his dream?” “His… dream?” The teacher paused, thinking hard.
“Ah!
At the beginning of the term, he said he wanted to become a powerful jōnin—to protect Konoha, and never let comrades die at the hands of the enemy again.” Hiruzen’s hand paused on his pipe.
Protect Konoha.
Protect comrades.
Wasn’t that the purest expression of the Will of Fire?
He waved his hand, dismissing the teacher.
Silence returned to the office.
Hiruzen gazed out at the Hokage Rock beyond the window, his eyes distant.
“Kazama Makoto… you left Konoha a fine seed.” — It was another “friendly” day.
After Ryū narrowly knocked the kunai from Uchiha Nao’s hand once again, the proud young lady finally snapped.
She glared at him furiously, cheeks flushed—whether from exhaustion or anger was impossible to tell.
“Hmph!
You were just lucky this time!
Next time… next time I’ll definitely see through your tricks!” With that, she threw another clinking money pouch over, turned around, and stormed off, her back filled with frustration.
Ryū picked up the pouch, thoroughly satisfied.
His combat experience and wallet thickness were growing at exactly the same pace.
Sparring against an Uchiha—with solid fundamentals, sharp taijutsu, and crude but powerful Fire Release—forced him to push the Three Basic Jutsu and Chakra Control to their limits every time.
This kind of high-intensity paid sparring was something he could only welcome more of.
“I got stronger—and balder—and richer—and stronger again.” With his financial problems resolved, Ryū immediately devoted himself to a new training plan.
The Body Flicker Technique and Wind Style: Great Breakthrough left behind by his father became his next targets.
At the same time, Basic Taijutsu and Ninja Tool Throwing officially entered his daily training schedule.
— Another week passed.
In front of the Ninja Academy bulletin board, students gathered in a dense crowd.
The new week’s battle assignments had been posted.
“Look!
Uchiha Nao vs.
Asuma Sarutobi!
That’s going to be good!” “Huh?
Kurenai Yūhi vs.
Shiranui Genma…” Students chattered excitedly, searching for familiar names.
Suddenly, a sharp-eyed student let out an incredulous shout.
“D-did I read that wrong?” He pointed at the middle of the list, his expression stunned.
Everyone followed his finger.
On the white paper, in bold black ink, it clearly read— Kazama Ryū VS Hatake Kakashi For a moment, the entire bulletin board fell silent.
Then, it exploded.
One was a grassroots dark horse who rose through sheer mastery of the Three Basic Jutsu.
The other was a wealthy genius long acknowledged as untouchable.
This was no longer just a routine sparring match.
This was a decisive battle over the very definition of “genius.”