More time passed, and Takuma’s physical status continued to improve until he was back in combat-worthy condition.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Takuma launched a volley of shuriken, but they were matched one to one by an opposing volley of shuriken.

The shuriken had barely fallen when Maruboshi rushed Takuma, who equipped his kunai and charged ahead. The shinobi met head-on, two kunai scraping against each other, creating a harsh noise.

Takuma sprang a palm strike at Maruboshi’s chest with his free hand. Maruboshi grabbed the arm before it could hit and stabbed his kunai down at Takuma’s shoulder. Takuma side-stepped the kunai and retaliated by flinging his own kunai up at Maruboshi’s face at an inhuman speed with a wrist flick that Maruboshi evaded with a simple head tilt.

He clenched his hand into a fist as chakra rushed forth and aimed for the liver.

Maruboshi smiled with his patent ‘ho-ho’ chuckle and tapped Takuma’s elbow to derail the punch trajectory completely. The tap was so powerful that Takuma had to clench his core to prevent himself from spinning around. He gritted his teeth and grabbed Maruboshi’s arm to disarm him of his kunai and succeeded in twisting the wrist to release the grip.

Maruboshi did nothing to stop the disarm. Instead, he raised his other arm and thrashed Takuma’s head with an elbow strike. Takuma felt his head churn and his neck snap down painfully. He stumbled back, shook his head, and charged back at Maruboshi with a growl.

Maruboshi kicked the ground, and his dropped kunai sprang up, which he then kicked toward Takuma, who, when moving to dodge, felt a twinge in his hip. He was a moment late, and the kunai left a very faint tear on his sleeve.

Takuma leaped to the sky and cocked his arm back into a fist. Maruboshi swiftly jumped away to evade. The fist shattered the ground, leaving a small crater around the point of impact. When Takuma stood up, Maruboshi was only a step away with his leg raised. Takuma crossed his arms and was sent flying back from the powerful impact.

Maruboshi didn’t let off the pressure and dashed towards Takuma. The moment Takuma touched the ground, Maruboshi was already there with his next attack ready.

Takuma blocked a punch and caught an elbow strike, but Maruboshi smashed his head into Takuma’s. Surprisingly, Takuma wasn’t shaken; he whipped out a kick for Maruboshi’s knee. It was a solid hit, giving Takuma a hold of the momentum. He immediately pushed on aggressively with a barrage of hits with augmentations mixed in.

Maruboshi fell back on defense with dodges and blocks without any signs of any counters.

“Your augmented strikes are stronger than the last time we sparred,” Maruboshi said.

He then caught Takuma’s augmented punch with his hand and pushed him away before cocking back his fist. Takuma put his hand forth to catch Maruboshi’s fist just as he had done, but the moment the fist made contact with the palm, Takuma felt an overwhelming force slam into him.

This wasn’t an augmentation; Takuma knew what that felt like.

This was pure physical force.

As Takuma shifted his posture to direct the force better, his knee buckled, and he was forced to kneel. He immediately jumped back when the force passed, but Maruboshi was faster. When Takuma stood up, Maruboshi grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down into an upward knee strike. Takuma felt the air escape his lungs—it wasn’t a feeling he missed.

He fell to the ground with pain radiating from his ribs.

“Get up,” said Maruboshi.

Takuma spat the grass out of his mouth as he stood up.

“You are slow,” said Maruboshi. “And you are weaker without augmentations.” He saw Takuma’s hand on his lower back. “Are you not completely healed, young Takuma?”

“No, I’m healed. My body is just stiff and unresponsive. I need to train to bring it back to speed,” Takuma groaned. His lower back was stiff, his hip lost strength when he pushed it, and his leg got tired too quickly.

“Take care of your body; it is one of the most valuable tools a shinobi possesses.”

“I know, I know,” said Takuma before gargling a mouthful of water to get rid of the raw taste of the grass from his mouth.

Takuma passed the canteen to Maruboshi and gazed at his teacher for a moment before taking out a folded letter and handing it to Maruboshi.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“What might this be?” Maruboshi asked as he opened the letter. “Conscription? They are asking you to join the conflict in the Land of Hot Waters…” He looked up at Takuma.

“Uchiha Mikoto thinks it’s a good opportunity. ‘War is where shinobi are made,’ she says.”

“And she is right,” Maruboshi handed the letter back. “It’s also where shinobi end.”

That much was obvious; it was a war, after all.

“It seems my career in the Police Force is over, at least for now,” Takuma explained his situation to Maruboshi. “She thinks participating in the war is the best way for me to gain a rank promotion.”

“The Chunin Exams of today didn’t exist in my time,” said Maruboshi. “Before the Third War, the Hidden Villages used to conduct the examinations for their own chunin. Before I decided that I did not want to be a chunin, I was aiming for a field promotion like you. So, my personal experience won’t help you, but I can tell you what I have observed from other genin.”

According to Maruboshi, because the Chunin Exams were hosted in turn by the Five Great Hidden Villages, most genin didn’t go to the foreign countries as that meant incurring travel expenses and a time period, they couldn’t do missions—and even the basic guaranteed salary was put on hold while they were traveling outside of the village. Most genin couldn’t afford that—young shinobi weren’t known for their money management skills. Need more money? Do more missions. When it was hosted in the home village, most genin didn’t take the Chunin Exam seriously and treated it as a way to luck into being chunin.

If a genin wanted to succeed at the Chunin Exam, they needed to be extremely serious, and even then, the chance was low as the competition was on another level. The best of the best from shinobi villages around the lands gathered in a single competition. Then, because of the examination’s ever-changing format, some teams might suffer disadvantages depending upon the format.

Not to mention, to get a chance at a rank promotion, a genin needed a resume to support the promotion. Most genin didn’t work on their resume, so even if they somehow performed well, they wouldn’t get promoted until they accumulated sufficient achievements. Performing well in the Chunin Exam was always a positive as a positive result could be added to the resume, but for maximum chance, all the preparation needed to be done before participation.

“Do you think I should ask Mikoto to cancel my conscription order and aim for the next Chunin Exam?” asked Takuma.

“You can’t base your decision upon my words, young Takuma,” Maruboshi said.

“I know, but I still want to know what you will have me do.”

Maruboshi sighed and didn’t reply immediately.

“I believe your time will be better spent participating in the war.” Maruboshi paused. “When you were in the academy, I thought you lacked the talent. I believed if you worked hard, you could reach the chunin rank, but that would be it…”

Takuma was stunned at the words. The Maruboshi he knew always encouraged him to strive for the best, to pursue constant improvement—but now he was saying that Takuma’s development was limited.

“… I was wrong,” Maruboshi smiled. “You have grown faster than I had expected, young Takuma. So young, but you have already achieved an important leadership position in the Police Force at that. You are strong, resourceful, and dedicated to your job. I talked to your friends and some of your colleagues when you were in a coma—they all, without exception, told me that you work too much and that you are extremely good at your job. You were demoted because you were too good and elevated your position until it could not be handled by someone in your rank.”

Takuma would’ve felt flattered if all of the work he had put in, all the sacrifice he had made to his personal life, had not led to him being removed from the place he had built with his two hands. When including the solo research he had done on the Maiko Triad, he had spent an entire year of his life building the Narcotics Taskforce—all of that was stolen from him because of clan politics in which he had no standing.

“Preparing for the Chunin Exam will take time and effort. You will have to find people for your team, you will have to train with them, and create a functional rapport—I’m sure you know how difficult that can be when you don’t have the right people. Moreover, you will be stuck in the Police Force for the next eight months—I’m assuming you will not be actively contributing any longer.”

“Fuck no,” Takuma spat. If he were going to be forced to work in the Narcotics Taskforce after being so rudely demoted, he would not put in hours anywhere near he did before.

“Language, child,” Maruboshi chided. “Then you will be wasting a great portion of your day doing something you do not want to do. Why not put all that time and effort to better use? I wholeheartedly believe that you can not only better help the village by participating in the war but also help yourself better. Why dedicate time to something that will mostly become irrelevant after the Chunin Exams when you can gain essential experience that will always stay with you?”

“The only downside I can see is the danger that comes with the war. But you are a shinobi; that sort of danger will become regular if you continue to rise in rank.”

Takuma had been living in the world that his sensibilities had long since adapted. It would’ve been strange if a relative of his suggested participating in a war when he had a choice not to—but in this world, a war was perhaps simply a big career opportunity.

“Take your time to think about it, young Takuma. Wars aren’t pretty, but you learn a lot that you can’t learn anywhere else,” said Maruboshi.

It was something Takuma had been thinking about since his talk with Mikoto, and he had grown tired of it. Every day, the option to go to war became more appealing because of what it could mean for his career—and now, with Maruboshi’s words, that appeal had only increased.

The only thing stopping him from making the decision was the Uchiha Massacre and his initial plan to stick it out, but even that had started to become doubtful. As time passed, Takuma began to doubt his blind estimates of the Uchiha Massacre. What if it wasn’t close, and instead, it was still a year out or even more? With each passing day, Takuma became less and less certain about whether his plan was viable—and now it was barely hanging by a thread because of how long it had been in the back of his head.

Takuma sighed. It was so often he wished he had just committed to the series and watched the anime, or at least, read the manga one more time to remember more about the events in the story.

There was no use lamenting something he couldn’t change.

But he knew he had to make a decision.

So he did,

He was going to participate in the war.