At noon, Fenghuo got up and made his way to the Kurama Clan compound.
Although the Kurama Clan had fallen from prominence, there were still a number of them living quietly in Konoha. Most were only genin or chūnin now. Aside from their rare and powerful genjutsu bloodline, the rest of their abilities were… underwhelming.
Fenghuo entered the residence of Kurama Congyun and walked through the familiar wooden halls into the backyard. Kurama Congyun stood there already waiting, his face as gloomy as always.
"You've been studying genjutsu with me for over two months now," Congyun said flatly. "Let's see what you've actually learned."
Without warning, Congyun formed a hand seal. The world around Fenghuo twisted—colors warped, gravity shifted—and massive green pea plants sprouted from the ground, towering and unnatural. The illusion was vivid and oppressive.
From one of the bloated pea pods, Kurama Congyun's upper body emerged with a sneer, flinging a shuriken from the pod's flesh.
"Remember," his voice echoed ominously, "damage taken in a genjutsu of this level will reflect on your real body."
"Tch. You'll need more than this to hurt me."
Fenghuo drew a kunai and deflected the incoming shuriken, circulating his chakra rapidly, then slowly, searching for the distortion point in the illusion. But the pea plants around him multiplied, crowding him, their vines closing in like restraints.
"It's useless. If this is all you've got, then I'll say it straight, brat—you've wasted my time!" Congyun's voice echoed from every direction. The next shuriken was smaller, sharper—unnervingly aimed toward a very inappropriate region.
"You're a lunatic!" Fenghuo cursed, flushing with rage. He activated the Eight Gates.
"Gate of Opening! Gate of Healing—Open!"
Boom!
The suppression on his brain lifted, and raw power surged through him. His muscles expanded with chakra-infused strength. The violent chakra flow blew away several illusory pea plants instantly.
'Ten seconds at most…'
He didn't hesitate. Launching into a blur of motion, Fenghuo leapt toward a suspiciously empty corner of the field.
"Leaf Whirlwind!"
"Nani?!"
There was no one visible, yet a startled voice called out from the shadows. Fenghuo smirked, foot connecting with something solid.
Boom!
The illusion shattered like glass, the pea plants vanishing. Congyun tumbled across the backyard dirt.
"You bastard!" Congyun roared, scrambling up. He jabbed a finger at Fenghuo's forehead. "I was testing your illusion skills, and you respond with taijutsu?! Idiot! Moron!"
Fenghuo staggered as he deactivated the Gates, waves of soreness washing over him.
"Don't make that 'sore' face at me!" Congyun barked.
"Sir, all you've taught me are genjutsu theories. I can't challenge you in illusions when I don't even have a practical technique."
"You want me to teach you our clan's genjutsu? In your dreams, brat!" Congyun growled, red with shame at having been taken down physically by a kid.
As his rant spiraled, he began recounting the clan's legacy.
"Our Kurama Clan once led all illusionists in the Warring States Era... Until the God of Shinobi, Senju Hashirama, founded the Hidden Leaf, and we were one of the first clans to pledge allegiance to the village. We've contributed countless elite genjutsu users over the years..."
Fenghuo's eye twitched.
'Here it comes. He's about to monologue from the Warring States period through the Second Great Ninja War. I'll be stuck here all afternoon!'
He slipped away silently.
"...And when Senju Hashirama established Konoha—eh? Brat? You dare run off mid-lesson?!"
Kurama Congyun's expression darkened like a thundercloud.
Leaving the Kurama compound, Fenghuo went straight to Hokage Rock to continue his training.
Buzz...
Chakra gathered in his palm, swirling with unstable motion. He could see the blue energy spiraling—chaotic, unbalanced, the rotation collapsing every time.
His frown deepened. He'd been stuck at the fourth stage of Rasengan training for weeks. But Namikaze Minato had been on missions for two months and hadn't had time to guide him.
After several more failed attempts, Fenghuo sighed in frustration.
"Interesting."
A voice as cold and slithering as a snake whispered behind him.
Fenghuo stiffened, a chill crawling up his spine. It felt like venom was coiling around him.
'No way... Orochimaru?!'
He turned slightly—and sure enough, standing behind him was a tall, pale man with flawless skin, long black hair, and piercing golden serpent eyes.
Fenghuo's pupils contracted. Bingo. Crow's mouth. It really was Orochimaru.
"Who developed that technique?" Orochimaru asked, stepping closer with a slow, predatory air.
Fenghuo instinctively took a step back, his body screaming with warning. There was something wrong about this man. Something inhuman.
Then Orochimaru smiled—and licked his own eye socket.
Fenghuo almost gagged. Your tongue isn't supposed to do that! What are you, a shinobi or a long-tongued yokai?!
"Little brat," Orochimaru purred.
"I developed it myself!" Fenghuo answered quickly.
"You? Developed it?" Orochimaru sneered. "Still playing ninja school games, are we?"
The atmosphere turned suffocating. Orochimaru's killing intent exploded outward, crashing into Fenghuo like a tidal wave. It felt like being crushed deep under the ocean.
Fenghuo's chakra flared defensively, trying to hold out.
This wasn't just any jōnin. This was the Orochimaru—a veteran of the Second Shinobi World War, survivor of Hanzo the Salamander's onslaught, and one of the Legendary Sannin. His power was increasing by the day.
"Heh... given your size..." Orochimaru murmured, licking his lips. Three-star creep confirmed.
Then the pressure vanished. Orochimaru tilted his head, the snake-like grin returning.
"Tell me your name."
"Uchiha Fenghuo!"
"Oh? An Uchiha brat..." Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed. "Interesting."
"Who are you?" Fenghuo asked, already knowing the answer.
"You don't deserve to know my name," Orochimaru replied coolly. "Ask again—once you've survived the battlefield."
He turned and walked away. But just before disappearing, he tilted his head one more time.
One of those golden snake eyes stared at Fenghuo coldly, lips curled in an eerie half-smile.
Fenghuo stood frozen, goosebumps erupting across his skin.
He exhaled long and slow. Then raised a fist to the sky.
"Ninety-nine likes for myself! One short—don't wanna get cocky."
So what if you're Orochimaru? I won't back down. Just give me ten years, and I'll crush you into a garden earthworm!
After catching his breath, Fenghuo resumed his Rasengan training. The chakra spun into a blue orb, more stable than before. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was spite, but this time—it held.
Boom!
The Rasengan struck the rock nearby, punching a hole the size of a bowl clean through it. Cracks radiated out, and shards fell away.
Fenghuo stared, wide-eyed.
"...It worked!"
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