"Get out!" The proctor glared down at the disqualified examinee, who lay sprawled on the floor like a defeated enemy. The disdain in his eyes made it clear he wasn't looking at a mere student but a failure unworthy of the test.
The sight sent a chill through the room. Many examinees reconsidered any plans to cheat. Among them was Naruto, who gulped nervously, fully aware of his poor academic skills and lack of options.
Thankfully, Hinata sat beside him and, though shy, had managed to finish her own paper early. She had subtly tried to show Naruto her answers. But when Naruto started to peek, a proctor interrupted another cheater nearby, striking the desk with a sharp kunai. Though Naruto hadn't been caught, the scare was enough to make him abandon the idea altogether. He would rather turn in a blank paper than face the humiliation of being thrown out like that.
He has no clue about the real purpose of this test, thought Lee, glancing at Naruto, who was sweating nervously. Lee shook his head with a sigh before turning his attention to Gaara, the unsettling red-haired candidate from the Sand Village who seemed completely unbothered.
Gaara sat calmly, his face expressionless. His left hand rested palm up on the desk while his right hand formed a seal, his focus unshaken by the tense atmosphere.
This guy isn't fazed at all. Either he's been through intense training, or he's so powerful that he doesn't see this exam as a threat, Lee thought. He continued to watch Gaara, noticing a faint glow in his hand that gradually formed an eye-like shape.
An extra eye? Lee was startled. That's like having a third eye for observing everything around him!
Before he could study Gaara further, a glint caught his eye, flashing across his desk. He looked down and noticed a mirror was reflecting answers onto his paper. He followed the angle and spotted Tenten, who was giving him a subtle wave. Lee grinned, grateful for her help. Knowing that group scores were tallied, he quickly jotted down the answers she'd shown him.
After finishing, Lee glanced around the room. Just then, he noticed a faint smirk form on the proctor Morino Ibiki's face. Lee's instincts told him that the final twist in the exam was coming.
"The time has come for the tenth question," Morino Ibiki announced in a cold, booming voice. The room went silent, every candidate hanging on his words.
"But before I give the question, there are some extra rules," Ibiki continued, his voice lowering as a tense silence settled over the room. "Understand, these are serious rules."
The examinees exchanged uneasy glances.
"First, you must choose to either take the tenth question or opt out," Ibiki explained with a grim smile.
"What happens if we choose not to take it?" asked Temari from the Sand Village, her voice tense.
"If you don't take the question, your score becomes zero, which means you fail. And, of course, so do the other members of your team," Ibiki replied calmly.
"What? That's insane!" someone murmured.
Despite the murmuring voices, Lee, Neji, and the more experienced candidates remained focused on Ibiki, sensing that he hadn't finished explaining.
"But there's one more thing," Ibiki said, his tone suddenly intense. "If you choose to take the tenth question but get it wrong, you'll be banned from ever taking the Chūnin exam again."
The room erupted in disbelief.
"Wait, what? That's not fair!"
"You can't do that!"
Ibiki's face remained stern, unfazed by the outcry. His steely gaze silenced the room as he let his authority fill the air. "This year, the rules are my decision," he said with a dark grin. "If you don't like it, feel free to leave."
The oppressive atmosphere hung heavily, and candidates quickly fell silent, some visibly shaken. The weight of Ibiki's words was clear: if they challenged him, they risked a lot more than failure.
But Ibiki didn't stop there. "Of course, if you don't want to take the risk, you can choose to leave now and try again next year," he said, folding his arms. "Maybe the next examiner won't be so strict."
Ibiki's smirk and the sheer authority in his presence hinted that anyone who dared to talk back might not even make it out of the room unscathed.
What a tough choice, Lee thought, piecing together the strategy behind this setup. The Chūnin exam was a team test, so if even one person backed out, it meant failure for the entire team. But if they tried to answer the question and failed, they would lose their chance to ever become Chūnin.
For a ninja, that was worse than death.
Lee's eyes narrowed as he studied Ibiki, appreciating the psychological challenge of this test. The sheer pressure created by the question alone was an effective way to test the resolve of each candidate.
Ibiki was clearly a master of mental warfare. This guy must be an expert in interrogation and psychological tactics, Lee thought, marveling at the complexity of the test.