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Chapter 62 - Chapter 62

Upon returning to the waiting room, I calmly settled into an armchair and crossed one leg over the other. I wasn't particularly nervous, having meticulously planned my fight beforehand. As a result, the battle unfolded largely as I had anticipated, though I had to improvise a little on the finer details. Overall, the strategy and tactics were well thought out.

 

Out on the arena floor, the monks were performing a show, demonstrating various tricks and techniques. It was interesting to watch, albeit somewhat theatrical. Still, as it was a performance rather than a real battle, it proved entertaining enough. It's essential to always distinguish between an entertaining show and an actual fight, as the rules and limitations differ greatly in each case.

 

The door to the waiting room opened, revealing none other than the Hokage.

 

I immediately rose to my feet and gave a deep bow, adhering to the proper etiquette. As I inclined my head, I spoke:

 

"Greetings, Lord Hokage!"

 

Only then did I lift my gaze. The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, an elderly man with the wisdom of a century's experience, was studying me closely. His piercing eyes were cold and almost indifferent, as if appraising my worth and potential. Despite his advanced age, his posture was upright and regal, exuding calm confidence and strength. His gray-white hair added a certain sternness to his appearance, and his face betrayed no emotion, remaining utterly inscrutable. The Hokage's ceremonial attire fit him impeccably, emphasizing his status and authority with its rich colors and fine fabrics.

 

"Suzuki Grand Vitara," he said evenly, his tone thoughtful. "Your fight was excellent. I appreciate the pleasure of witnessing the future potential of our village."

 

"Thank you, Lord Hokage," I replied. "I will continue to train hard."

 

This was standard praise, and I gave the standard response, all according to proper etiquette.

 

"A good mindset," he nodded. At that moment, a large smoking pipe appeared in his hand. Deliberately, he packed it with a luxurious, richly fragrant tobacco. Striking a match, he ignited the pipe and took a few brief, sharp puffs that released small smoke rings, followed by one deep, lingering drag that reduced the tobacco to smoldering embers. "Fuuuh."

 

The Hokage exhaled a gray cloud of smoke that spread through the room before dissipating through small vents I hadn't even noticed before. Those vents, I realized, could easily be used for eavesdropping if someone wished. Was the smoke itself a technique, or merely a clever distraction?

 

"What is your goal in the near future?" he asked suddenly, his icy, penetrating gaze fixed on me. For a moment, it felt as though he wasn't looking at me but through me.

 

"A goal…" I mused briefly. "I want to achieve the rank of jonin within the next two years. The sooner, the better."

 

"A fine goal, I like it," Sarutobi Hiruzen nodded. "But aim higher. Do you think you could become a jonin in a year?"

 

How was I supposed to respond to that? To admit uncertainty would sound weak, but overconfidence might betray arrogance—especially in front of the village's leader. The Hokage took another deliberate puff, his expression unreadable, as he patiently awaited my answer.

 

"I think I could," I replied after a brief pause.

 

"Good," he nodded. "Then, upon returning to the village, you'll meet your next trainer. For six months."

 

"For six?" I echoed in surprise. The agreement had been different.

 

"Do you object?" Hiruzen asked, raising an eyebrow with quiet authority.

 

"No, Lord Hokage," I replied quickly. "I was just surprised. Thank you!"

 

"I hope you'll manage to reach the level of jonin in a year, as you promised," the Hokage said. A watch appeared in his hand, and he glanced at it briefly. "In a year, before the next Chunin Exams, I expect to see you at the Jonin Exam. Understood?"

 

"Yes, Lord Hokage," I replied, taking his words as a direct order. "I understand. I'll do my best."

 

"Excellent," he nodded. "Your chunin certificate will be presented to you by your trainer."

 

"Understood," I responded with a respectful nod.

 

The Hokage turned and left, ensuring the door closed quietly behind him. I stood there for a moment, the lingering smell of tobacco smoke slowly fading as it was drawn out through the small vents. My mind, however, wasn't on the smoke but on the grueling months that lay ahead. Who would my trainer be? Speculating seemed pointless—it would only add unnecessary stress.

 

In truth, I knew I should be grateful for this opportunity. Sure, it would demand relentless effort, leaving no room for rest or leisure, but this was a chance to achieve the rank of jonin—and perhaps more. With real effort, significant growth in a year wasn't just possible; it was likely. I knew I had the potential for it. Yes, I admit I'm ahead of many of my peers, but only because I've invested so much in my development. I've worked hard to reach this level and fully intend to keep pushing forward.

 

The door opened again, interrupting my thoughts. Captain Kiochi stepped inside, his expression satisfied.

 

"Captain," I greeted him, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

 

"Ah, Suzuki," he said with a slight drawl, stepping further into the room. He sniffed the air briefly, immediately recognizing who had just been here. "You've demonstrated an exceptional level of skill. There's a reason I gave you the nickname 'Machine.' You didn't just beat everyone—you crushed them. Well done. I'm impressed."

 

"Thank you, sensei," I replied, bowing respectfully. "If it weren't for your rigorous training and guidance, I wouldn't have achieved such results."

 

"Probably true," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean you wouldn't have achieved anything at all. My help was simply to ensure you didn't get stuck anywhere. That's very important."

 

I had to agree with the captain. If I had hit a roadblock in my development, it would have taken a long and arduous search for a solution—either by coming up with something myself or by gathering funds to pay for additional training under a jonin. A jonin would have provided the same kind of support the captain had given me for free. All things considered, that would've been a good outcome, to be honest.

 

"How are Shiko and Ayamane?" I asked. "Are they alright?"

 

"Yeah, what could be wrong with those two fools?" the captain shrugged. "They just got banged up pretty badly from the hits. Nothing the iruyins can't handle."

 

"That's great," I nodded. "They'll get their certificates, right?"

 

"They will," the captain sighed. "Honestly, I wouldn't have given them one yet, but… the Yamanaka and Nara clans wouldn't understand otherwise."

 

"Can they influence the awarding of ranks?" I asked, surprised. I hadn't thought such a thing was possible or so widely known.

 

"They can," the captain nodded. "Genin from their clans can't just fail the Chunin Exam outright. In ninety percent of cases, they're expected to receive their certificates after the first Chunin Exam."

 

"Huh," I muttered. "That could lead to someone incompetent ending up in charge of genin. Does the same happen when awarding jonin ranks?"

 

"No," Captain Kiochi shook his head firmly. "I understand what you're thinking, but no one can earn the rank of jonin unless they truly deserve it. The Hokage keeps a very close watch on this and doesn't allow such things to happen. By the way, congratulations on receiving a reward for your victory from the Hokage."

 

The captain skillfully steered the conversation in a different direction. That was fine by me.

 

"Thank you," I said with a nod. "By the way, why was my victory so important to Lord Hokage?"

 

"There are two reasons," the jonin replied with a shrug. "Politics. Since the other genin didn't perform particularly well, it created the impression that Konoha might lose certain contracts. Your fight demonstrated that it wasn't a case of all our genin being weak—just that they didn't excel in this type of battle. Also, the village placed a significant bet on you."

 

"What?" I exclaimed, genuinely surprised.

 

"What's there to be surprised about?" the captain asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's quite normal for villages to place bets on their participants. But no one risked as much as the Hokage did. I don't know the exact amount Konoha won, but it's not small. It's roughly enough to cover five days' worth of missions for all of Konoha's shinobi."

 

"Wow," I muttered under my breath. "So that's how much the Hokage earned?"

 

"Quiet," the sensei said firmly. "He bet on an incredibly unlikely outcome. The losses of the genin in previous battles only increased the odds of the payout."

 

"Huh," I managed, still processing the information. Honestly, I wouldn't have minded receiving at least ten percent of the profits. But on second thought, maybe that ten percent would go toward my training. It's possible. Besides, this might all benefit me in the long run. No point dwelling on it too much; otherwise, I'd just give myself a headache. "Well, whatever."

 

"I like your attitude," the captain chuckled. "Alright, get ready. We're heading back to the hotel. In three days, we'll depart for the village."

 

"Will our wounded be back on their feet by then?" I asked.

 

"They'll be sealed in scrolls and transported to the medics at Konoha's Main Hospital," the captain explained calmly. "There's no point in lingering in a foreign Hidden Village longer than necessary."

 

"Understood," I replied with a nod. "Let's head out, then."

 

Honestly, I was relieved I wouldn't have to spend the journey back listening to Shiko and Ayamane complain about how badly they were beaten. If I had, I might've lost my temper and said things I'd regret—words that could have strained our relationship and possibly sown seeds of hostility. But with things as they were, none of that would happen. Once we returned to the village, I'd start training with my new instructor. Six months—that was a substantial amount of time. A skilled trainer could turn even an average genin into a competent shinobi in that period.

 

Outside, the streets were as lively as I had expected. People hadn't fully left the Arena yet, but they were preparing to, with occasional visitors trickling out and hurrying off somewhere. The captain and I made our way to the hotel. The city itself appeared more eager to continue celebrating than to settle down for a quiet evening. Likely, once the events at the Arena concluded, the crowd would disperse and enjoy the festivities late into the night.

 

The hotel where we stayed was relatively empty when we arrived. Of course, a few shinobi were stationed around, handling security. No one wanted a local thief sneaking into rooms and stealing something valuable—that would've been a major hassle.

 

Most of the shinobi who had come with us were probably still at the Arena, watching the remaining events. They'd return later, and then we'd begin preparations for the journey back to Konoha. Honestly, I couldn't wait.

 

"By the way, Suzuki," the captain said as we entered, "I'd recommend you stay within the hotel premises tonight."

 

"Why?" I asked, glancing at him curiously.

 

"Not everyone will be thrilled about how quickly you defeated the other genin," Kiochi replied with a shrug. "I don't think anyone will actually try to attack you, but it's best not to rule out even the smallest possibility."

 

"Understood," I nodded. "I'll just rest in my room."

 

"Good," the captain said with a satisfied nod.

 

"Kiochi-sensei, do you happen to have something interesting to read? Just to pass the time?"

 

"Something interesting?" he repeated, pausing thoughtfully. "To be honest, I didn't bring much with me. Once everyone's back, I can ask around. Maybe someone has something worthwhile."

 

"If not, that's fine," I said with a dismissive wave. "I'll just work on my chakra control training."

 

"That's a good idea too," he nodded. "Then rest well."

 

I flopped onto the bed, clasping my hands behind my head. A pleasant silence filled the room and seemed to extend throughout the entire hotel, as most of the others were still out. After a moment of relaxation, I took a long, hot shower to wash off the grime from the streets, letting the water refresh both my body and mind. Once clean, I settled into meditation to unwind further.

 

My chakra flowed smoothly and pleasantly through my body, coursing along its pathways. Experimenting a little, I paused the flow momentarily, then sped it up. This exercise spread the energy throughout my body, leaving me with a slight sense of exhilaration and heightened awareness.

 

Taking a deep breath, I slowed the chakra's flow again, calming it completely. These exercises were a vital aspect of chakra control, especially since different techniques required varying chakra speeds. The ability to accelerate or decelerate chakra flow rapidly could mean the difference between executing a technique successfully or disastrously. Failing to master this skill could result in botched techniques during battle—with consequences as severe as injury or even death.

 

Eventually, the quiet atmosphere of the hotel gave way to noise as shinobi returned, some ready to rest and others eager to celebrate. I suspected many would head out into the village to join the festivities, though the captains would likely caution against the risks of such activities.

 

Feeling hungry, I decided to visit a familiar restaurant. The seat by the aquarium was free, and I quickly claimed it. The fish, seemingly recognizing me, swam closer to the glass, darting about as if expecting attention or food.

 

In the doorway, Kabuto appeared, his glasses gleaming cheerfully as he spotted me. I waved him over.

 

"Hey, Kabuto. Have a seat," I said, gesturing to the spot next to me.

 

"Suzuki, I saw your fight. It was very well-executed," Kabuto said with a smile, settling across from me. He adjusted his glasses with his characteristic gesture.

 

"I thought it would be tougher against the puppeteer from the Sand," I replied. "But as it turned out, he wasn't prepared for what I had planned."

 

An understanding expression flickered across Kabuto's face. As an experienced shinobi, he understood the value of keeping techniques and strategies hidden until the critical moment.

 

"That was his mistake," Kabuto chuckled. "He probably assumed your level would be similar to the others he'd faced before."

 

"What about you?" I asked, leaning forward slightly. "Would it have been easy for you, or not?"

 

Before Kabuto could respond, a waitress approached our table with the confident stride of someone used to commanding attention. Our conversation came to an abrupt halt as we both glanced at her outfit—it seemed intentionally designed to draw eyes.

 

She wore a form-fitting crimson crop top that barely covered her chest, the semi-transparent fabric making it clear she wasn't wearing anything underneath. A short, pleated black skirt with a shiny finish hugged her hips and revealed toned, tanned legs as she walked, the hem swishing just above her mid-thigh. Tall stiletto boots adorned with metallic spikes completed the ensemble.

 

Her brightly painted lips curved into a seductive smile as she noticed our reactions, but the cold, calculating glint in her eyes betrayed her true nature. This was no ordinary waitress—she was a skilled kunoichi, using her provocative attire as a distraction to lure potential targets into complacency.

 

Kabuto and I exchanged a knowing glance, silently acknowledging the danger lurking beneath her enticing facade.

 

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," the waitress began, her voice smooth and professional. "May I offer you a menu, or do you already know what you'd like to order?"

 

"I'd like to order something delicious," I said, drawing out my words playfully. "Could I have a menu, please?"

 

"Of course," she replied, handing me a menu booklet. "And for you, sir?"

 

"I'll take a menu as well, please," Kabuto said with a polite smile. "I feel like treating myself today."

 

"Very well," the waitress said, handing him a menu. "Just call me when you're ready."

 

We opened the menus and began studying them carefully. My eyes were immediately drawn to the slightly more expensive dishes I'd been avoiding before, not wanting to spend too much. This time, however, I decided it was worth it—I deserved a small indulgence.

 

"So, Kabuto, how would you defeat them?" I asked casually after settling on my choice.

 

"Well…" he began, closing his eyes briefly in thought. "We iruyin have a few medical techniques that can be quite effective in combat. For instance, there's a technique that disrupts neural impulses, effectively paralyzing the target. After that, I'd simply start cutting them down using the chakra scalpel technique."

 

"Oh," I murmured, intrigued.

 

"Yeah," he chuckled softly, and a faint green glow emanated from his hand. He picked up a small napkin and effortlessly sliced it in two. "Like this. It's a simple but surprisingly effective technique."

 

"I see," I said with a nod. "So, ready to order?"

 

"Yeah," Kabuto replied, waving his hand to call the waitress. She approached promptly, and we gave her our orders.

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