"Hikaru, I honestly don't even know what to say to you right now."
Silence.
"One second, you're the model student. The next, you're flattening three entire classes?!"
"You trying to ascend to heaven or something?!"
The homeroom teacher, Ishiki Mamoru, was in full rant mode—and had been for a solid ten minutes.
Shūyū Hikaru stood in front of his desk with his head bowed, completely silent.
He knew better than to talk back right now. Anything he said would only stretch this punishment out longer.
"Good thing I wiped out those three classes before they knew what hit them."
Inwardly, Hikaru couldn't help but feel a little smug.
Class 2. Then Class 3. Then Class 4.
Fast and clean.
None of them had been strong enough to slow him down, and with just three to four minutes per class, he'd managed to KO the entire lot of them during a single recess.
Totally worth it—even if the aftermath landed him right here.
"Did you even hear a word I just said?!"
Mamoru took a break to gulp down some lukewarm tea, his throat sore from the extended tirade.
"Yes, sir. I understand. I was wrong. I won't do it again," Hikaru replied smoothly.
"...Good. As long as you know."
With a dismissive wave, Mamoru released him.
Hikaru didn't need to be told twice. He turned and vanished out the door in a flash.
Once he was gone—
"Ahem. Apologies, everyone. My student got a little carried away and ended up decking your entire classes. Please forgive him," Mamoru said with a slight bow to the other homeroom teachers.
But—
"That's your apology face?!"
"You smug bastard, you're enjoying this!"
"Three entire classes lost to one brat! My students are all useless!"
The other teachers glared daggers at him. Mamoru's barely-concealed smirk made their humiliation even worse.
Fine. If their students couldn't beat a single kid, then it was time for drastic measures.
They were going to start Hell Training tomorrow. Clearly, they'd been too soft.
The students of Classes 2, 3, and 4 had no idea that getting thrashed by one person had just sentenced them to months of living hell.
Back in Class 1
"Are you okay, Hikaru? Did the teacher chew you out?" Kushina asked the moment he returned to his seat.
She still couldn't believe what had happened.
One recess. That was all it took for Hikaru to march into three different classrooms and wipe the floor with everyone.
"Got scolded a bit. No big deal."
Hikaru waved it off.
He'd expected as much. It was just words. A little verbal beatdown wasn't enough to shake him.
Besides, the real reward made it all worth it.
Ninety-four students.
That's how many opponents he faced across those three classes.
Of course, that didn't mean he got a material drop from everyone. Drop rates were never guaranteed.
Sometimes, his luck was so good that it felt like a 100% drop rate. Other times, it dropped to 50% or worse.
Still—
From 94 students, he had racked up 81 materials.
No special materials this time; none of them had that kind of narrative importance. But still—solid haul.
Material Breakdown:
Chakra (White) ×64
Clone Jutsu (White) ×9
Substitution Jutsu (White) ×5
Transformation Jutsu (White) ×3
Obviously, the Chakra materials were the real treasure.
As for the basic Three Techniques? Practically trash.
There was a reason Hikaru hadn't even bothered learning them yet. Better to spend that time refining the Rasengan.
Still, even junk had value if he could combine it into something useful.
"Might as well try fusing those leftovers and see what comes out."
You never knew when the system might surprise you with something good.
Meanwhile, across the room…
"So... he wasn't going all-out against me last time, huh?"
Namikaze Minato stared quietly at Hikaru, piecing it all together.
Yesterday, he'd thought he was finally closing the gap.
But then Hikaru had casually beaten three entire classes before lunch—and walked away without breaking a sweat.
There was no way Minato could've done that.
Even if he was confident one-on-one, taking on full groups was something else entirely. And Hikaru had done it like it was a warm-up.
That meant… during their last fight, Hikaru hadn't even gone all-out.
The realization hit Minato like a punch to the gut.
It felt like scratching off a winning lottery ticket, only to realize you'd misread the numbers.
The disappointment was crushing.
But only for a moment.
Minato was a genius. And geniuses didn't quit.
A few deep breaths later, his eyes were burning with resolve again.
"Good. The stronger he is, the sweeter the victory will taste when I finally beat him."
He grinned to himself, renewed fire in his veins.
The chase was back on.