After that, our physical training started, and Sensei didn't hold back. The workout was brutal. Not only were the exercises physically demanding, but Sensei made us wear weights the entire time. To my surprise, he even sold weights to both Nora and Baskin, but there was something odd—I noticed the price was 500 ryo more than the market rate. I was lucky I already had my own weights, so I didn't need to buy any, but I couldn't shake the thought: why the extra 500? I glanced at Sensei, and for a moment, I swear I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes when took mine out. Was Sensei... greedy? I laughed it off in my head. Surely not—it's just 500 ryo, right? Maybe he bought from some fancy shop. But the idea lingered.
Nora glanced at the weights in his hands and sighed. "I swear, Sensei's running a side hustle."
Baskin, already struggling to fasten his, mumbled, "500 ryo? He probably bought them from some 'premium' vendor."
I tried not to laugh at their reactions, especially when Sensei was just within earshot. Nora whispered to Baskin, "You think if we haggle, he'll cut us a deal?"
Baskin snorted. "Not a chance. Sensei's more stubborn than a bull."
As the workout progressed, it became painfully clear that none of us could keep up with Sensei's training plan. One by one, we started to drop. Baskin was the first to pass out—his face planted on the ground, completely out cold.
"He's done for," I muttered.
Nora followed not long after, collapsing dramatically. "Tell my family... I fought bravely," he groaned.
I was barely holding on myself, but I kept pushing, thinking that if I could last the longest, maybe I'd impress Sensei. In the end, even I couldn't take it anymore and collapsed.
When I came to, I was lying under a tree with the sun low in the sky. My muscles felt like they had turned to stone. I blinked a few times, trying to gather my bearings, and saw Sensei standing over me, holding out some energy bars and a drink.
"Here," Sensei said, his voice surprisingly calm, considering how much he pushed us.
I gratefully accepted the energy bars, thinking, Maybe he's not that bad after all. But as I was halfway through, Sensei handed me a bill—yes, a bill—for the food! I almost choked.
Baskin, waking up at the same time, groaned and rubbed his eyes. "We have to pay for our recovery snacks?"
Nora squinted at the bill in his hand, his face a mix of exhaustion and disbelief. "I knew it. Sensei really is running a business on the side."
Before we could even question it, Sensei gave us a look, that said "you don't have to buy if you don't want to". and all we could do was mutter quiet thanks and finish eating. Just as I thought I'd get a moment to rest, Sensei barked at me to get back to training. He didn't even let me finish processing what had just happened!
"At least let me digest," I mumbled under my breath.
Next up was shuriken practice. Compared to the brutal physical training, this part felt like a relief. At least it didn't drain us the same way. But that didn't mean it was easy. The targets were placed in ridiculously difficult positions—hidden behind obstacles, at awkward angles, and some even moving.
"Who even thinks of setting up targets like this?" Baskin grumbled, missing a shot by a wide margin.
Nora, lining up his throw, said, "Someone with way too much time on their hands."
I chuckled, but they were right. It was a real test of precision and control, and none of us could hit the targets consistently.
After that came chakra control practice. I was hopeful that we'd finally move on to tree-climbing or water-walking exercises—something new. But to my disappointment, it was the same old leaf-balancing exercise.
Nora let out a deep sigh, practically deflating. "We've been doing this for weeks."
"I know, I know," I said, sharing his frustration. But I reminded myself, "Mastering the basics is important, right?"
Baskin, balancing a leaf on his forehead, muttered, "The basics are overrated."
Still, we all pushed through the exercise in silence, focusing on keeping the leaves from falling. We were given a 20-minute break before the sparring sessions began. By this point, I was already feeling the fatigue set in, but sparring was something I always enjoyed, even if I knew I was going to get beat down.
Sensei paired us up for a few rounds, and then he stepped in to fight each of us individually. There was no comparison—fighting against Sensei was like trying to hit a ghost. His movements were too fast, too precise. He didn't teach us any new styles but instead guided us through the fight, making comments on our form, reaction times, and decision-making.
"Think ahead," Sensei said, effortlessly dodging one of Nora's punches. "You need to anticipate my next move, not just react."
Nora, sweating bullets, panted. "Easier said than done!"
What really amazed me was how much more there was to fighting than just throwing punches and kicks. Sensei made us realize how important it was to think ahead, to anticipate the enemy's moves. It wasn't just about brute force—it was about strategy.
Baskin, rubbing his sore arm after being thrown to the ground for the tenth time, groaned. "This is impossible."
But even he couldn't deny that we were learning.
By the time Sensei had beaten all of us into the dirt, I felt like I had gained some valuable experience. My body was aching, but my mind was racing with new strategies.
After we were all thoroughly exhausted, Sensei told us to begin our individual training. I watched as Baskin and Nora slowly got up, their faces a mix of frustration and determination.
Baskin muttered, "This is insane."
Nora sighed dramatically, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I swear, Sensei enjoys this way too much."
When our individual sessions began, we all started focusing on the exercises Sensei had laid out for us. I decided to work on my Body Flicker Jutsu, and Sensei observed closely, offering valuable advice.
He explained that since the Body Flicker is a rapid movement technique, not teleportation, it always moves in a straight line. Even though you can choose the angle, the movement remains linear, which makes it easier for an opponent to predict. "Don't look in the direction you're flickering," Sensei pointed out, "that gives away your move instantly." He also mentioned that skilled opponents could gauge the distance based on the chakra built up in your feet if you're not fast enough.
This made things even more challenging, but instead of complaining, I got back to practicing. After about 30 minutes, though, my chakra was completely depleted, and I had to stop. Sensei noticed and asked, "Why'd you stop?"
"I'm out of chakra," I replied.
Sensei looked a bit confused at first, then sighed, "I'll need to adjust your training plan." When I asked why, he explained that he hadn't realized how limited my chakra reserves were, so the previous plan wouldn't work. He increased my physical exercises since they don't consume chakra and, even though it's slow, they help build chakra reserves over time.
When Baskin and Nora found out, they laughed their heads off, which only added to my frustration. I couldn't help but feel a little sad about the situation. Now, my physical workout load was maxed out by a considerable margin, leaving me even more exhausted than before.