"The first match—Konoha Village's Tsuburamaru versus Konoha Village's Rock Lee!"
Moonlight Hayate's voice echoed through the massive dojo as the electronic board flickered, cycling through the forty-eight names before stopping on the chosen pair.
"Guy-sensei! I'm up first!"
Rock Lee clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with fighting spirit.
"Go all out, Lee!"
"Yes, sir!"
With a blur of motion and a gust of wind, the green-clad taijutsu prodigy leapt from the balcony, landing in the center of the arena with his trademark intensity. Across from him stood his opponent—Copper Armor, a tall Konoha Genin wrapped in a black scarf.
"Match—begin!"
Moonlight Hayate waved his hand and stepped back.
"Come on!" Lee shouted.
"Be careful!" Copper Armor growled, reaching into his pouch and flinging three shuriken in a rapid burst.
Lee's body shifted in a flash—his movements simple but impossibly fast. He ducked, twisted, and charged straight in, his speed blurring out of sight.
Before Copper Armor could even track him, Lee's fist slammed into his guard.
Bam!
Copper Armor stumbled backward, his forearm numb from the impact.
"H-How fast—?"
Lee tilted his head, confused. "You were trained by Naruto-sensei too, right? Why are you so slow?"
"Damn it!" Copper Armor spat, panic rising. His ability was chakra absorption—a perfect counter to ninjutsu users. But against someone like Rock Lee, who used pure physical force? It was useless.
"If that's the case," Lee said, his voice dropping, "I won't hold back!"
He stomped the ground—BOOM!—and the floor cracked beneath him, leaving a deep footprint as his figure vanished.
"Where—?!"
Before Copper Armor could finish, a crushing kick smashed into his side. He flew through the air like a rag doll.
Midair, Lee appeared above him, grabbed his collar, and drove him headfirst into the floor.
CRASH!
The dust settled. Copper Armor was face-down, Lee kneeling on his back with a kunai pressed to his neck.
"You lose," Lee said quietly.
"I surrender!" Copper Armor gasped, utterly defeated.
"First match—Rock Lee wins!"
Moonlight Hayate's voice rang out as the crowd erupted. Even he couldn't hide the shock in his eyes.
That's Guy's student? Incredible. To have that level of physical ability at thirteen… unreal.
Up on the balcony, the other Genin looked on, their faces pale.
Even Gaara, normally emotionless, watched Lee a few moments longer.
"That guy's a monster," one Genin muttered. "If I face him, I'm forfeiting immediately."
"Same here," another replied. "I like living."
"Did you notice?" a third whispered. "He still had his training weights on."
A collective shudder went through the group.
"How does Uzumaki Jōnin even train these people?"
"I heard Rock Lee only trains ten minutes a day," someone else said. "He goes all out—like a maniac—and then collapses. Naruto-sensei gives him some kind of medicine so he can recover for the next day."
"In other words, that fight wasn't even serious. He's still holding back."
The room went silent. Every Konoha Genin there made a silent decision: if they had to fight Lee, they'd surrender instantly.
"Lee! You were magnificent! Truly the spirit of youth!"
Guy jumped up, giving a dramatic thumbs-up as tears streamed down his face.
Lee bowed respectfully, beaming.
Guy, however, was thinking about something else entirely.
That little red bottle Naruto gives them… could I try one too?
The thought came unbidden. He, of all people, was jealous—of his own student. That mysterious supplement Naruto brewed had clearly enhanced Lee's recovery and growth.
If I had that during the Eighth Gate… I might break my limits completely.
The fire of youthful envy burned quietly in his heart.
The matches continued.
One by one, pairs of Genin entered the arena. Some fights were brutal—others ended instantly. Every match revealed something new: strange bloodline powers, cunning tactics, creative ninjutsu, and terrifying bursts of raw strength.
No one here was weak anymore.
"Konoha's Genin are too well-rounded," murmured a Cloud Jōnin. "Their timing, precision, adaptability… they fight like veterans."
"Yeah," replied his partner, Samui. "Only Omoi might make it to the final twelve. The Raikage's gonna blow a fuse when he sees this."
The realization spread among the observers from other villages—Konoha's young generation wasn't just strong; they were dominant.
"If these kids grow up," said an Iwagakure Jōnin grimly, "Konoha will surpass all of us. That cannot be allowed."
Another replied softly, "You're forgetting something. These aren't even their best. The true prodigies—the ones who graduated early—are already Chūnin or higher."
There was a long pause before he added, "Especially Uzumaki Naruto… that monster. He's already reached the level of the First Hokage in his prime."
The Iwa Jōnin, Loess and Wenya, exchanged uneasy glances.
Pressure. Crushing, undeniable pressure.
Sarutobi Hiruzen's earlier words rang in their minds—the Chūnin Exams are a miniature version of war.
And he was right.
But the problem was, this "miniature war" was horribly one-sided.
Konoha wasn't just winning. They were dominating.
"I heard Uzumaki Naruto's been sent on some long mission," Wenya said quietly. "If that's true, maybe…"
Loess shook his head. "No. For all we know, that's just a smokescreen. Until we're sure, we watch and wait."
He sighed heavily.
"It's insane, isn't it? Just a few years ago, Konoha was on the verge of collapse—bleeding talent, fading fast. Then Naruto appeared… and flipped the entire world on its head."
The other Jōnin didn't respond.
They didn't have to.
Every one of them was thinking the same thing—calculating strategies, weighing risks, imagining possibilities.
But every plan ended the same way: with one name that made their blood run cold.
Uzumaki Naruto.
No matter what schemes they devised, no matter what alliances they imagined—
every path led straight back to him.
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