THUD!
With a clean over-the-shoulder throw, Seikyū Hikaru ended yet another match.
Another classmate, down for the count.
And then came the music to his ears:
[DING! Defeated opponent. Material dropped: Chakra (White).]
He was getting used to it by now.
Student after student stepped forward, some reluctant, others defiant—yet none lasted more than a handful of moves. They were lambs thrown to a lion.
And Hikaru?
He devoured every second of it.
The chunin instructor stood frozen, expression twisted in disbelief.
What the hell is happening...?
He'd meant to humble a loud-mouthed kid, not watch a slaughter.
Now he was stuck awkwardly calling names from a list that had gone from "training pairs" to "Hikaru's hit list."
Still, he pressed on, each name coming out like a sigh of defeat.
"Next—Tamura Shima."
Three seconds later—
BAM!
Another one dropped.
[DING! Defeated opponent. Material dropped: Chakra (White).]
That cheerful little chime was becoming the chorus of Hikaru's rise.
In fact, at this rate—
Ten down.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
Twenty-five.
It was a parade of losers.
Material! Glorious material!
He was bathing in it. With each fallen classmate, the harvest grew.
His class had 34 students total. Take himself out of the count, and that left 33 walking loot bags.
And he was determined to crack open every last one.
Finally…
"Next—Namikaze Minato!"
The instructor's voice sounded like a man teetering on emotional collapse.
After watching thirty-one kids get dunked by one student, his hopes were dust in the wind.
At this point, it wasn't about discipline or order.
It was survival.
"Please take care of me, Seikyū-kun," Minato said politely as he stepped into the ring.
"Been waiting for you," Hikaru grinned. "Let's see what you've got."
Last time, Minato had dodged the bait. No duel, no drops.
But now?
There was nowhere to run. This was an official class spar.
Which meant…
Special material incoming.
They shook hands, then fell into position.
SWOOSH!
No warm-up this time.
Hikaru closed the distance with explosive speed, fist aimed straight for Minato's face.
But the blond prodigy's instincts were sharp—both palms came up fast, catching the punch in front of his chest and sliding back several feet.
His heels carved tracks across the ground.
"Not bad," Hikaru nodded. "Reflexes like that, no wonder you're destined for Flying Thunder God."
Minato didn't respond—but his eyes narrowed, focused.
But let's see how you deal with this.
SWISH!
Hikaru's next move was a blur.
He vanished, reappearing behind Minato in an instant—this time with a spinning kick.
CRACK!
Minato's body went flying, tumbling across the floor.
Just as he scrambled to rise—
CLICK.
A hand pressed against his throat.
"Minato-kun. You've lost."
The words were calm, absolute.
Minato froze, then let out a long, slow breath.
"I... lost."
His face twisted with frustration.
Just two moves.
Two damn moves.
He'd always prided himself on his control, his timing—he'd been one of the few kids to extract chakra within hours of testing. Most students took days.
But now?
All that "prodigy pride" shattered like glass.
The moment he faced a real genius, he understood how far he truly had to go.
"Winner: Seikyū Hikaru."
"Shake and release."
The instructor's voice sounded numb.
The two boys touched fingers and stepped back.
"I'll challenge you again," Minato said quietly, his gaze burning.
Hikaru blinked—then smiled.
"I'm counting on it."
And please do—drop more loot for me next time.
Because this time, oh yes—this time, the rewards were delicious:
[DING! Defeated opponent. Material dropped: Chakra (White).][DING! Defeated opponent. Special Material dropped: Flying Thunder God Kunai.]
A special material.
The kind tied to narrative anchors—iconic people and legendary techniques.
The kind with potential beyond this world.
Hikaru's fingers tingled.
Flying Thunder God Kunai.
Now we're talking.
Author's Note:If you enjoyed this chapter, please vote and bookmark to support the series! More epic loot incoming!