"Ryuma, you bastard! No wait, you're not even a bastard—you're just not a thing! What's the big deal about a few rice balls? Would accepting them kill you?"
"Hey! Ryuma! Are you even listening to me? Say something! Don't pretend to be mute…"
Hovering back to Ryuma's side, the mongoose opened its mouth wide and began yelling into his ear non-stop.
With its little hands shoved into its pants like a pair of shorts, it struck a pose full of righteous indignation, as if it were fighting injustice on behalf of Hanabi, criticizing this heartless guy who stomped on a girl's feelings.
Ryuma ignored it completely, continuing down his path without pause.
One was the orphaned child of a rogue ninja, scorned by the entire village. The other, the white-eyed princess of the Hyuga clan.
If he got too close to Hanabi, the pairing would attract too much attention. And Ryuma didn't want attention.
Exiting the forest, Ryuma headed straight to a ninja tools shop.
He had already given up trying to drive Hanabi away. Two months was more than enough time to prove her determination. There was no room left for retreat.
Unless he laid a hand on her—but the Jonin and Chunin trailing behind her would never allow that to happen.
She was the heiress of the Hyuga main family, and the future symbol of the Hyuga name.
Even a verbal insult would invite retaliation, let alone violence.
Just like earlier—after he said those words to Hanabi, he felt a chill run through his entire body.
He knew it came from the killing intent radiating off the two bodyguards behind her.
But his training couldn't be delayed.
And he couldn't lay a hand on Hanabi.
So, he had only one option left, buy some weighted training gear that would let him continue training even with her around.
Fortunately, after two months of conditioning, his stamina and endurance had reached a decent level. He could finally take on some weight training.
Of course, the effect wouldn't compare to full-body gravity compression, but he didn't have much choice.
Weighted tools—or ninja tools in general—were highly developed in this world.
Just look at Rock Lee during the Chunin Exams. When he removed those ordinary-looking iron weights in his match against Gaara, they created a crater in the floor.
It was proof that the Sage of Six Paths' vision of spreading ninjutsu to benefit humanity had merit. Chakra could drive technological advancement.
At least the weights Rock Lee used would probably be impossible to reproduce even with modern industrial tech.
But the Sage underestimated the human heart. Power only feeds ambition.
…
Ryuma stepped into the ninja tools store without hesitation, and his eyes immediately locked onto a figure inside.
Thick eyebrows, a shiny bowl cut, a green skintight suit, and that dazzling smile that could flash like a spotlight—
The Blue Beast of Konoha—the man who nearly ended the Fourth Great Ninja War with one kick—Might Guy!
"Guy, if I remember correctly, didn't you just replace your weighted gear half a year ago? Already time for a new set?"
"Hahaha!" Guy let out a hearty laugh, then struck a thumbs-up pose.
"Endless passion! That is what youth is all about!"
"Is that so... ha ha..."
The shopkeeper chuckled awkwardly, unable to keep up with Guy's vibe. He collected the gear Guy had taken off and promised to craft a new set as quickly as possible.
Unlike his father—the eternally low-ranked, painfully humble Might Duy—Guy was now one of Konoha's elite, on par with Kakashi.
Naturally, the shopkeeper treated him with the utmost respect.
Ding-dong!
"Welcome—"
The doorbell chimed, and the shopkeeper greeted the next customer with the same smile.
But when he saw that it was Ryuma, the smile vanished, and his tone turned sharp and impatient.
"Oh, it's you, brat. What do you want?"
"To buy something."
Ryuma didn't waste time. Knowing he wasn't welcome, he went straight over and picked up the gear Guy had just taken off, weighing it in his hands.
It was heavy.
Even with years of training under intense gravity, Ryuma had to admit—this kind of weighted gear didn't feel like it was made for humans.
Still, he calmly asked, "How much does a set like this cost?"
The shopkeeper gave him a number that was far beyond what he could afford.
"I'll be back."
Ryuma set the weights down and turned to leave without another word or glance.
Only after stepping outside did he mutter, "Did you get the stuff?"
"I got it, but time was short. I only managed to snag two sets. Not sure if they'll be the right fit," the mongoose said, floating up beside him with a hint of regret.
While Ryuma had distracted the shopkeeper, the mongoose had made a round through the store, doing what it did best—stealing.
From the start, Ryuma had never planned on actually buying the weights.
Even if they weren't as good as Guy's, strength training was a core part of every ninja's life.
That meant the price of good weights was always high—especially for someone like him.
So borrowing—permanently—was the preferred method.
And he wasn't ashamed. After all, he hadn't done the stealing himself.
"Don't worry. You'll get your chance soon."
Without firsthand testing, Ryuma didn't know what weight level was right for him. Two sets wouldn't be enough. Finding the right fit for his training would take trial and error.
Luckily, the mongoose would have plenty of chances to go back in.
Sure enough, not long after, the shopkeeper burst out of the store, barking like a dog.
He looked around wildly. When he saw Ryuma, he marched toward him, seething with rage.
"It was you! You stole my stuff, didn't you?"
He had just double-checked everything moments ago, but the instant this brat left, he turned around and found two sets of weights missing.
There had only been three people in the store. Guy was a longtime customer and a high-ranking jonin—he wouldn't do something like this. That left Ryuma as the obvious culprit.
The mongoose, seeing this, understood immediately. It bolted back into the shop like a streak of lightning and began grabbing everything it could.
It didn't even care what the stuff was. It just stuffed everything into its pouch in a frenzy—more and more, faster and faster, growing more excited with each grab.