It has been ten days since the class started, and twelve days since Ryota’s transmigration.

‘Everything seems surprisingly… tamed?’

This development was mostly thanks to the fact that the classes were not divided based on one’s background; it seemed to be randomly done with no particular parameter in mind. So, except for the initiation and the would-be final graduation, everything was virtually the same for almost all the students.

‘Right, it’s still the era of the Third. Things are starting to get bad, but shit hasn’t completely hit the fan just… yet.’

Lost in contemplation, Ryota was currently standing before the food station, leisurely devouring a piece of oily fish. Positioned by the sea, the villagers heavily relied on seafood, a significant component of their daily sustenance. Even in the slums, the specter of death from starvation was a rare occurrence.

‘And there is chakra, it can sustain your body even if you go without food for a while.’

That was a new piece of information Ryota learned in one of his classes. It kinda explained how the previous owner of the body could survive despite suffering from anorexia, being an orphan, there was no one to force-feed him.

‘Most anorexic orphans back home would starve themselves to death.’

Just as he was about to take another bite of the oily piece of meat, he heard someone shout. “Can you eat faster, we are already getting late.”

It was his new best friend Gengo. Looking up, Ryota could see the taller kid rubbing his oily hands along his hair. It was one of the many villager’s habits that Ryota found hard to stomach.

Squinted his eyes, Ryota immediately scarfed down the remaining food. The bones of this nameless fish were soft and chewable, making it much less dangerous than the ones he was used to back on Earth.

Finishing his meal, he scrunched up his nose a bit and rubbed his oily hands along his hairline, following the taller kid’s example. Unless you could produce your own water, the only water you would be getting here was for drinking.

‘At least they aren’t totally heartless.’

Finishing his routine, Ryota nodded, prompting his taller friend to immediately bolt out of the room. Shaking his head at his friend’s antics, Ryota followed.

The large building accommodating approximately seven hundred kids had three floors. The middle floor was half allocated to various faculties, and half of it was allocated for the first years. The third floor was similarly allocated between the second and third years. The ground floor for the various training and other miscellaneous rooms.

The food station itself was on the ground floor. Painted in grey like most rooms of the building, the only colorful aspect was the food displayed in the food stalls at the very edge of the room.

‘The posters are pretty colorful as well. Hmm… I wonder who painted them.’

****

Panting, the duo finally reached the second floor. The floor was smoothened concrete, so they half-slid and half-ran, and within seconds they were standing before a door; a small nameplate at its top reading, Room 201.

The room itself was nothing impressive. Just like the entire building, the walls were grey. A cool breeze was blowing through the wooden framed windows opposing the entrance. Long chairs and desks, taking about two-thirds of the class width were set in rows, seven rows to be exact. About six students would fit in each arrangement.

Around thirty students were already seated. Ryota followed Gengo as he was led to the very first seat in the class, right next to the podium. Ryota had already protested about this on the very first day.

‘But you can’t win an argument against a toddler.’

From what he had found, a four-year-old toddler from his world has an intelligence equivalent to someone in their mid-teens back on Earth. But that was only for normies like Gengo.

The toddlers back in his dormitory are much more mature.

‘Some of them rarely even show any emotions.’

Shaking his head, he looked at the three already seated on the frontmost bench. They were the other friends he managed to make on these ten days. Not as close as Gengo, but still friends.

The three were Zabuza, Gozu and Meizu. All were named characters in the show. Gengo was one too, but Ryota only realized it a bit later.

‘Well, I can try changing their future… if I manage to live long enough that is.’

These four were amongst the main forces that for the first time rebelled against the Fourth Mizukage. But they failed and were forced to go renegade.

‘Well, I’m in team rebel as well I guess.’

Gozu and Meizu were brothers from a subordinate tribe of Gengo’s tribe. But they were deemed as lower cast and had to go through the bloody orientation. They became friends with Zabuza during the brawling phase of the orientation.

Seeing the duo approaching, Zabuza who was at the edge of the seat, patted the chair, inviting the two. Gengo went first, making Ryota sit at the very end of the seat, right next to the door.

Sighing to himself, Ryota silently took the seat.

“Who’s class is next?”, asked Zabuza.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Waving at the little Hulk, Ryota said, “Masaru-sensei’s.”

The big kid nodded back and started poking Gozu, asking him something.

Smiling at them Ryota looked towards Gengo, just to catch him searching his backpack for a bit, before taking out a thick book. He could barely make any words written on its cover page. They were still halfway through their ABCs in Reading/ Writing Class.

‘It looked a bit japa-ne-sy.’

Just as Ryota was having an intense staring contest with the thick textbook of unknown origin, Gengo’s voice sounded, “It’s the same book Masaru Sensei always carries around. Fundamentals of Torture and Torture Resistance. I asked my grandpa to buy it for me.”

Enlightened, Ryota ended his battle, nodded back in thanks, and shifted his gaze to Gengo’s face. The thud from the book caught Zabuza and the gang’s attention as well. Seeing all four of them looking his way, sweat began rolling off Gengo’s forehead, “I-I can s-share it with you g-guys too, you know.”

Which immediately gained a nod of approval from all four.

‘Rich kid.’

The group managed to squeeze in a few minutes of idle talk before the big sharky entered the room, his smiling face shutting everyone up.

Masaru Hoshigaki slowly walked before the class. Unlike other teachers, he had no problem getting the students to pay attention. Just a smile and a punch at the slightest offense; problem solved!

Nodding at everyone, he walked up to the podium. He slightly frowned upon seeing one of the front-row students flipping through a book’s page; not paying him any attention. Just as he was about to blast the kid through the door, he relaxed, even nodding upon seeing the book’s title.

‘Good Kid.’

Finally, he gave the class a sweeping glance. Finding everything satisfactory, he slowly grabbed the book between his armpits and placed it on the podium before him. Opening the book he started his lecture, not forgetting to maintain eye contact with every kid in the class.

“Continuing on with our non-physical torture and interrogation method, we will be talking about The Stick and Carrot Interrogation today. This technique usually involves two interrogators working together. One acts brash and uncouth, maybe even beating you and resorting to physical torture. Most may just give up the information at this stage, but if you manage to hold it well till the end, then the second cycle of this method will come into play.”

“The good guy comes in. He berates his colleague for being so harsh. Maybe he will even feed you some food, giving you a false sense of security? Maybe he will promise to set you free, as long as you spill the beans? Maybe he will even promise you enough wealth to go renegade and start a new life? All to gain enough of your trust and coax out the information from you. First the stick and then the carrot, and thus the stick and carrot method. First pioneered by the Uchihas during the Warring States Period……”

Despite its name, the class itself didn’t torture its students. It was mostly oral theory about basic torture techniques and how to counter them. Since they were training to be ninjas, they would suffer from more than enough pain during their weekly spars, taijutsu, and kenjutsu classes to build resistance.

Making an entirely different subject for just countering pain was plain redundant.

****

(MC POV)

Ending the school day, the five of us made our way out of the school building. Amongst the crowd of first years, the Demon Brothers were the first to split up, bidding us farewell right outside the building. While everyone was provided a bed and a desk in the barracks, their use wasn’t mandatory.

After walking for a few more minutes, an old man appeared before us. He had a white goatee adorning his wrinkled face, full white hair covering his scalp, and a tall build just below the sharky. He was the healthiest-looking old man I had ever seen. Seeing the man, Gengo immediately jumped and called out, “Grandpa!”

It was Gengo’s grandfather, Genma. The former patriarch of the Hazuka tribe had taken the role of Gengo’s guardian while in the village. Seeing his grandson run in his direction, the old man bent down and opened his arms, enveloping the kid in his embrace.

Saying a few words in the toddler’s ear, he looked in our direction before patting his sleeves and taking out two candies, holding them out to us. Gengo said it was native to their tribe, but whatever it was, I liked it. Running and grabbing the two sweets, I passed one to Zabuza who was right behind me, holding his hands out.

The old man just laughed at us before saying, “So, how did the three of your days go?”

Coming out of his grandfather’s hug, Gengo was the first to reply, “Pretty boring.”

“Not bad.” I seconded.

“Meh.” Zabuza lasted.

Nodding his head and smiling, he said, sounding a bit worried, “The two of you can come to our house as well. I heard they barely provide you a bed at the barracks?”

This was the second time the old man had offered to house us. Not many in the village would do that, but we had gotten the same offer from the family of the demon brothers too.

‘I guess those from the tribes are a lot more tolerable of the lower casts.’

Unfortunately, we had to reject the offer. “Sorry gramps, we have some friends back at the dorm. Can’t keep them hanging, you know?” I rejected. Trying to sound as polite as possible.

“Oh well, I can only hope you kids have a good day then.” Sighing the old man nodded.

****

Waving our goodbyes to the duo, Zabuza and I made our way through the stone-paved path and red trees. The school starts at seven in the morning and ends at two in the evening so we still had a lot of time in hand. Thus, instead of the dormitory, we made our way towards the Mizhuchi River.

Walking side by side we didn’t talk much. Despite being friends for days I still instinctively feared the four-year-old beside me. After all, he had already killed me once and Zabuza himself didn’t seem very talkative.

Finally, reaching the river I could see a few people on the other side of the banks. Some were washing their clothes, doing their dishes, or even bathing. A bit far away, I could also make out a few people filling their pots and pans. If not for the Hozuki the village would have long been diseased and possibly wiped out.

‘Does this world even have normal diseases? I only ever heard of chakra disease and some psychological disorders in the series… so maybe the diseases are not much of a problem here?’

Looking at the guy by my side, I nodded, before finding a convenient spot by a tree. Sitting at its base, I looked around a bit and found an untorn piece of maple leaf. Picking it up, I stuck it into my forehead.

Holding the leaf in place, I concentrated on my navel region and had the small ball of chakra pump out a small but continuous stream of its essence into my forehead. It took about a few seconds to balance out the thickness of the said stream before slowly guiding it to my glabella.

After carefully lifting my finger away from the leaf, I devoted every ounce of concentration within me to sustain the delicate flow of chakra, ensuring the leaf clung steadfastly to my forehead.

One minute...

A minute and a half...

Two minutes...

Two and a half...

With an abrupt break, the chakra stream severed, and the leaf descended.

‘Let’s fucking goooooooooooooooo!!!’

Internally pumping my fist, I tried my best to not let my lips curl. Looking at my side I could see my killer giving me a wide eye.

Trying to appear as serious as my four-year-old face would allow, I asked

“How long was it for you?”

“Ten seconds… barely” was his reply. I felt even smugger, and not an ounce of shame upon comparing myself to a four-year-old.

“Why is my progress so slow then?” I could hear him wonder loudly, a hint of sadness in his tone.

‘Cuz you are a four-year-old toddler and I’m a grown-ass man with a hacky eye.’ would be my honest response, but of course, I didn’t want to get killed so early.

Just as I was about to comfort the kid, he stood up. Maintaining fierce eye contact with me he slowly turned his body towards the tree behind us. Realizing what this little Hulk was about to do, I immediately broke eye contact and distanced myself.

And then it happened. His hands went blur and….

*Crack.

A clear imprint of his fist appeared on the tree.

‘Fucking DEMON!!!’

====>Chapter 9: Side Training<====

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