Time flowed like a river. Three months had passed in a flash.
In the dilapidated training ground, Jin hung upside down from a tree, munching on an apple. Minato suddenly appeared, poking a finger towards Jin.
The next moment, a hole appeared in the tree where Minato had poked. But there was a solid impact on Jin's back; he was leaning against the tree trunk. He took another bite of the apple.
"Too slow, Minato," Jin commented, and both vanished using Swift Step.
Their rapidly moving figures clashed repeatedly. Kushina stood under a tree, flicking a pebble at the trunk. A shower of kunai and shuriken rained down. She swayed like paper, not a single weapon hitting her.
Kiyoshi gritted his teeth. He was outmatched, completely outmatched.
In only three months, Minato had mastered the four techniques, using them effortlessly. Kushina had mastered Paper Arts and Swift Step. Kiyoshi, however, had only mastered Iron Body and was still struggling with Swift Step. The four techniques had a high threshold, especially in chakra control. He couldn't believe Minato's talent. But what he witnessed confirmed the undeniable truth. He… perhaps… reluctantly… admitted that Minato surpassed him.
Compared to those two, however, Jin was a monster. Kiyoshi didn't know where Jin had learned the four techniques, but Jin's fighting ability was beyond what anyone his age should possess. The agility, reflexes, and effortless mastery of the four styles… even Minato, a prodigy, was toyed with. He doubted any chunin from a prestigious clan could beat him. He'd sparred with chunin and even Jonin; Jin felt like a Jonin-level opponent.
"He's a monster in human skin," Kiyoshi muttered, fixated on the scene before him. Jin was more worthy of his pursuit than Minato. But... he still couldn't beat Minato.
Jin glanced at Kiyoshi, who was unaware of the Foundation Training. The cloth headband covering his forehead hid the Cage Bird seal; the branch family couldn't defy the main family. Jin naturally wouldn't trust him.
He tilted his head, dodging Minato's Finger Gun. "Whoosh!" Another hole appeared in a nearby tree. Jin executed a sweeping kick, but Minato, with uncanny reflexes, grabbed Jin's leg, attempting to pull himself up. But Jin's kick had sped up, connecting with Minato's abdomen and sending him flying. Minato stabilized himself in the air, landing on a tree branch.
"Minato, you need more training," Jin said, finishing his apple.
Minato jumped down, slumping to the ground. "Jin, why are you so strong?" he asked, his face a mask of frustration. He felt himself growing stronger, but he couldn't fathom Jin's depth. He felt like he was trying to climb a mountain; he believed he'd reached the halfway point, but the summit was still just as distant. He'd reached the fourth level of the Foundation Training and mastered the four styles, but he was still no match for Jin.
"You need to work harder, Minato," Jin said, shaking his head. His own progress had been slow in the past three months, due to the limitations of his growing body. But his foundation was strong, and the insights gained from Minato, Kushina, Dai, and Orochimaru regarding the Foundation Training had been invaluable. His own mastery of the four techniques had allowed him to dominate Minato.
Even as a prodigy, Minato was still only chunin level. Orochimaru, however, had progressed the furthest with the Foundation Training, nearing the final stage. The final stage was specifically designed for immortal cultivation, extremely complex and requiring vast quantities of chakra.
"Inoue-sensei said you have to come to school tomorrow. Important announcement," Minato reminded him of the message Inoue had given him. Inoue hadn't seen Jin for three months.
"Got it," Jin said dismissively. Using his new technique, he could now pose a threat to Jonin, possibly even those of Tokubetsu Jonin level. But only once.
…
Orochimaru watched impassively as a ninja within a glass container writhed in agony, transforming into wood. From the shadows emerged a man in bandages, his face grim. Konoha's shadow. Danzo Shimura.
"Any progress?" Orochimaru asked coldly.
"As you can see, it failed." Danzo's face was grim.
"This experiment has been ongoing for a month. Why is there no progress?" The number of casualties was significant, even affecting manpower on the front lines. Even Hiruzen, the true architect of the experiment, was starting to doubt its value.
"The Hashirama cells only accelerate the host's deterioration. There's no way to effectively suppress it," Orochimaru said, shaking his head. He'd tried everything.
"Continue the experiment. We need results."
"I am not your subordinate, Danzo-sama," Orochimaru said icily, his gaze sharp. Even as a friend of his sensei, Danzo held no authority over him.
Danzo stared deeply at Orochimaru. "Hiruzen is also waiting for results. If there's no progress, the experiment will be shut down." Such a high cost for no results. That weakling Hiruzen wouldn't tolerate it.
Danzo melted back into the shadows. Only two people in Konoha could research Hashirama cells: Orochimaru, and Tsunade, who absolutely could not be involved. Telling Tsunade that they needed to exhume her grandfather's body to enhance Konoha's military strength… even the Will of Fire couldn't silence her. She might just level the entire village.
Orochimaru, ignoring the experimental subjects, looked at an inconspicuous potted plant, a sapling slowly growing. To him, this sapling held far more allure than the experimental subjects.
"Unbelievable. That Uchiha is a genius." His initial suspicion had turned to certainty. This plant had nothing to do with Hashirama cells. It was a dead seedling to which he'd applied the sealing technique from the Foundation Training, without watering it. He'd used chakra as nourishment. And this dead seed began to grow.
"If chakra reaches a certain level… is eternal life possible?" Orochimaru mused. The Foundation Training could extend life, but not grant immortality. The key lay in the third stage:
"Seal the power of nature within the body." This world had Senjutsu chakra. Everyone focused on absorption, never on sealing. The sealed natural energy, due to the nature of the technique, would alter the body to adapt to that energy.
"If the human body can retain Senjutsu chakra… eternal life is indeed achievable." The white snakes of Ryūchi Cave were living proof.
"This is the path to immortality." Orochimaru's eyes shone with a newfound light. His pursuit of jutsu was limited by lifespan. He'd sought immortality as a second best option. Now, the true path to immortality lay before him.
Hashirama cells were just a tedious assignment. They offered no path to immortality. Only the Foundation Training offered that.
"Sealing jutsu is the future."
Jin never anticipated that the Foundation Training would divert Orochimaru from his original path. Similar techniques may have existed, but ninjas were obsessed with destructive power, focusing only on momentary annihilation. They pursued the ultimate jutsu, never the path to immortality. Only Orochimaru had conceived of this path, until now.
Now there was another. Uchiha Jin.
…
Konoha Academy. Jin looked around the familiar yet unfamiliar classroom. "It feels strange; I haven't been here for a few days."
It's been three months! Inoue raged internally, maintaining his forced smile. "Uchiha… Jin… sensei… looks… awful," whispered a passing student.
Inoue's forced smile became a grimace. "Not even a shred of dignity left…"
After the students filed in, Inoue recovered. The weight of the impending announcement hung heavy upon him. He stood at the lectern, his body heavy with the burden of his decision. All these children, except Jin, he'd taught from the beginning.
He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice choked. The Second Hokage's initial vision for the Academy was a twelve-year curriculum, not ten years! He didn't understand this decision, or his upcoming announcement.
The students looked at him with confused gazes. He took three deep breaths before forcing a smile.
"Students, congratulations! Starting tomorrow, you are all eligible for the graduation exams!"
"Eh?!" Jin stood up, slamming his fist on the table.