The next several days passed quietly.
With Guy away on a mission, Ryosuke could only train alone—following his self-imposed One-Punch-Man regimen with religious discipline.
10 km run.
100 push-ups.
100 sit-ups.
100 squats.
The system rewarded him each time:
Strength +1
Speed +1
Constitution +1
No matter how much he pushed the workload, the stat gains didn't change.
Not like sparring with Guy.
Compared to the +5 bonuses from getting pummeled, this was crumbs.
So when Might Guy finally returned to the village after seven long days, Ryosuke locked onto him instantly and resumed his favorite training method—getting smashed.
A month passed in the blink of an eye.
A Secluded Grove — Afternoon Light Filtering Through Leaves
Guy, Lee, and Ryosuke gathered in a clearing hidden deep in the outer forest.
Few people wandered out this far.
Perfect for intense training—no interruptions, no spectators, and no Uchiha police trying to arrest poor Guy again.
And naturally, Ryosuke was the first to speak:
"Guy. Spar with me again."
Guy blinked.
He could feel the difference immediately—Ryosuke's presence alone was worlds apart from a month ago.
Power.
Speed.
A sharpened body honed through relentless physical training… and beatings.
Guy smiled in disbelief.
In raw taijutsu, Ryosuke wasn't the same boy who once flew after a single punch.
Now Guy had to take him seriously.
"Very well," Guy said, taking his stance. "Come."
Ryosuke activated his Sharingan—two tomoe spinning, hungry for motion.
The Clash
Guy moved first—blitzing forward in a burst of speed.
His fist whipped forward, a strike that had sent countless shinobi flying.
But today—
BOOM!
Ryosuke met the punch head-on.
And he didn't move an inch.
Not pushed back.
Not staggered.
Not overwhelmed.
Equal.
Guy wasn't shocked.
He had seen the growth day by day—how Ryosuke went from being blasted away to resisting, from resisting to countering.
But seeing Ryosuke take a punch like that…
It still made his blood surge.
He grinned.
"This isn't enough!"
Guy flashed in again, attacking with clean, precise taijutsu formed from endless repetition.
But this time—Ryosuke's body moved cleanly, naturally.
Sharingan reading.
Muscle memory copying.
Reflexes syncing with Guy's own movements.
Ryosuke slipped past Guy's punch and countered with one of his own—a perfect reproduction of Guy's technique.
Guy's pupils shrank.
He barely jumped back in time, feeling the wind of the punch brush his cheek.
He almost got hit.
He would have been hit.
He couldn't let his guard down.
Not for a second.
Ten Minutes of Pure Taijutsu
The forest echoed with impacts.
BAM!
THUD!
CRACK!
Guy struck Ryosuke three times.
Ryosuke struck Guy three times.
Clean.
Solid.
Undeniable hits.
Guy finally stepped back, chest rising and falling steadily.
Ryosuke wiped sweat from his jaw, exhilarated.
He could barely contain the thrill coursing through him.
He had copied Guy's taijutsu perfectly.
He had fought him blow for blow.
He had matched him—fifty-fifty.
For the first time, Ryosuke had truly hit Guy multiple times.
Not a lucky strike.
Not a fluke.
Not a mercy hit.
A real exchange.
A real fight.
And Guy… wasn't holding back.
Ryosuke was no longer a taijutsu amateur.
He was becoming a true practitioner—shaping himself into a physical monster.
Guy's Shock
Guy stared at Ryosuke, unable to hide the awe in his eyes.
Speed—equal.
Strength—equal.
Technique—nearly equal.
Yes, the movements Ryosuke used were copied from him using the Sharingan—Guy could recognize his own forms instantly—but copying was one thing.
Executing them flawlessly was another.
"Ryosuke…" Guy murmured. "You've grown… unbelievably."
Lee's Realization
Lee watched in stunned silence.
He still remembered that first spar—the one where Guy sent Ryosuke flying with a single punch.
At the time, Ryosuke was clearly a weakling.
But one month later…
He was standing toe-to-toe with Might Guy.
Lee stared down at his small hands.
Guy had been hitting him too.
Seriously hitting him in every practice.
So why wasn't he progressing as fast as Ryosuke?
And then it clicked.
A horrifying, electrifying thought exploded in his head.
Maybe… he just hadn't been beaten ENOUGH.
The force Guy used on Ryosuke was far greater than what he used on Lee.
Lee clenched his fists, eyes blazing with resolve.
So that was it.
That was the secret.
If getting hit made you stronger… then he simply needed more of it.
More pain.
More impact.
More training.
Lee trembled—not in fear, but excitement.
Finally… finally he saw a path forward.
The path of youth.
The path of suffering.
The path of growth.
He looked at Guy and Ryosuke with admiration and burning determination.
He would ask Guy to hit him harder.
A lot harder.
Because if Ryosuke could rise this far in one month—
Then Lee could too.
He just had to endure it.
Overcome it.
And surpass it.
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