Inside the Sarutobi compound's training ground, Shanks swung a black wooden sword. Each swing left a streak of energy behind it, slicing through the training dummies with ease. Then he collapsed to the ground.
'Pathetic,' he thought.
At his prime, he could have cut the entire village in half without breaking a sweat. His Haki was still there — as strong as ever. Haki was the will, and a will was a will, no matter the body. But this body, still that of a six-year-old, couldn't handle the majority of his attacks. The energy slash he had just produced? 'That's my limit. I could repeat it six or seven times before my body gives out.'
Chakra was another matter. When the Hokage tested him, it was clear his reserves were small. 'By the time I grow, maybe genin level… maybe chūnin, jonin if I'm lucky.' Compared to his parents, both young jōnin with strong reserves, it was unlucky. 'No matter. Ninjutsu will stay basic. Walking on water, walls, and the rest… my heavy hitting will always come from Haki.'
Even so, Shanks wasn't weak. His Observation Haki remained flawless. 'I can read movements, sense emotions, detect presence, even glimpse minor outcomes. Conqueror Haki is still my strongest weapon. Any jonin trying to fight me now? Pointless if I can't even stand.'
A month later, Shanks began attending the Academy regularly. It didn't take long to notice how weak the other students were — pathetically weak. There was one exception: Minato Namikaze. Even the Uchiha in his class, Fugaku, who supposedly had the strongest clan abilities, fell short in Shanks' eyes.
Some kids tried to pick on him because of his red hair. One even punched him. He laughed.
Flashback:
It was early in the school day. Minato had entered and sat beside him. A few other kids came in and immediately began mocking Shanks' hair. He laughed, unfazed, continuing his conversation with Minato.
One of the bullies tried to push further, insulting him directly. Shanks only laughed again. Then another kid threw a punch straight at him, and he rolled across the floor.
Shanks stood up, laughing loudly. 'Oh… so you're going to fight them? Avenging a friend? Nah. Not worth the time. These guys aren't even worth thinking about.' He returned to his seat, ignoring them completely.
The bully, now furious, threw a punch at Minato. Shanks caught it easily. 'What are you doing? Piss off.' His tone left no room for argument. The kid froze. Shanks repeated it more seriously, and a faint invisible energy spread just enough to scare the group into stillness. That was when the homeroom teacher entered, shouting at everyone to take their seats.
Flashback ends.
Shanks laughed again at the memory. 'One of the Four Emperors of the Sea, bullied by a bunch of children. Hilarious. Truly pathetically hilarious.'
The day after, at the academy.
When the homeroom teacher entered, the chatter died down. He was a tall man with sharp eyes and an authoritative presence. "Listen up, class," he said. "Today, I'll explain how the ranking tests work. This will determine your standing in Class 1A, and being at the bottom consistently is not an option."
Shanks tilted his head, listening idly.
"The ranking is split into three parts," the teacher continued. "The first part is a written test — you will answer questions about chakra control, jutsu theory, and basic ninja knowledge. The second part is a technique test — each of you will demonstrate jutsu, taijutsu, and your ability to handle basic chakra applications. Finally, the last part is a fighting test — a practical evaluation against other students. Your overall ranking will be calculated by combining the results of all three tests."
Shanks raised an eyebrow. 'So, they're measuring brains, skill, and combat all at once. Not bad… but still, most of these kids won't even come close.'
The teacher's tone hardened. "Class 1A is the top class in the Academy. Average is not allowed. If you stay in the bottom three positions for three consecutive months, you will be relegated to a lower class. Do I make myself clear?"
The students murmured, some nervous, some determined. Shanks, of course, was unimpressed. 'Bottom three? Hah. I'll need to try really hard not to make this too easy.'