Late at night, Uesugi Toru wrote the final formula symbol and set down his pen.
He breathed a sigh of relief, looking at the papers filled with formulas and diagrams before him; it was finally finished.
But how should he submit this advanced paper?
Giving it directly to the Hokage would make his motives too obvious. He needed someone of influence to "accidentally discover" the paper and then have word reach the Hokage's ears for the best effect.
Uesugi Toru turned his gaze out the window.
He thought of a place: the Konoha Ninjutsu Research Department.
This department was responsible for collecting and archiving Ninjutsu data, as well as grading and registering new Ninjutsu. Theoretically, any Ninja could apply, making it a public channel.
However, Uesugi Toru also knew that this place was conservative in its ways. Nine times out of ten, his paper would be treated as nonsense and thrown away.
But that was exactly the result he wanted.
He carefully rolled up the scroll and placed it inside a specially made storage tube.
Early the next morning, as sunlight just began to drench Konoha Village, Uesugi Toru changed into clean clothes and donned his forehead protector. He walked through the increasingly busy streets, ignoring the prying eyes behind him, and headed straight for an unremarkable grey building in the center of the Village.
The Konoha Ninjutsu Research Department.
This place wasn't as heavily guarded as the Anbu. The main gate was wide open, with only a single Chunin dozing at the entrance. The air smelled of old paper and ink, and it was very quiet.
Uesugi Toru walked into the hall, seeing rows of filing cabinets that reached the ceiling and several researchers buried in scrolls. Every one of them looked exhausted, moving like machines; the entire space exuded a sense of dullness.
He walked to the front desk and spoke calmly to a researcher who was yawning and sporting dark circles under his eyes.
"Hello, I'm here to submit a Ninjutsu theory study and apply for the special talent channel."
The researcher named "Suzuki" lifted his lifeless eyes and lazily sized up Uesugi Toru.
A kid who had just graduated, with a forehead protector so new it didn't even have a scratch.
Suzuki snorted inwardly. Another one of these self-righteous brats.
The Ninjutsu Research Department encountered a few such "geniuses" every day—kids who had just graduated or gotten lucky on a mission and thought they were the next Orochimaru, bringing in some messy "theories" to apply.
And the result? All useless fantasies.
"The application forms are over there, fill it out yourself." Suzuki pointed to a table in the corner, finding it too tiring to say even one more word. He had stayed up all night organizing old archives on Wind Release nature transformation.
"Alright."
Uesugi Toru didn't mind his attitude. He walked to the table, picked up an application form, and filled it out quickly.
Name: Uesugi Toru.
Age: Twelve.
Ninja Rank: Genin.
Reason for Application: Submitting a new discovery regarding Chakra control theory.
He handed the completed form and the scroll tube containing the paper back to the counter.
Suzuki took the form. Seeing "Genin" and "Twelve years old," the disdain in his eyes deepened.
He didn't even bother to open the scroll tube. He picked up a stamp from the side and, with a "thud," stamped "Pending Review" on the application form. Then, he casually tossed both the form and the tube into a wooden box behind him labeled "New Applications."
"Alright, go back and wait for notification," he said in a toneless voice, which basically meant "you can get lost now."
But Uesugi Toru didn't leave.
He just stood there quietly, looking at Suzuki.
Suzuki felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze and frowned. "Is there something else?"
"According to Chapter 3, Article 7 of the 'Konoha New Technique Registration Regulations'," Uesugi Toru's voice was very calm, "for theories submitted for the first time that have disruptive potential, the applicant has the right to request a preliminary on-site evaluation to ensure its value isn't overlooked."
Suzuki was stunned.
He hadn't expected this kid to actually know that regulation. There was indeed such a rule in the regulations, but no one had taken it seriously for a long time. Who would waste time on a Genin's "disruptive theory"?
"You..." Suzuki was getting a bit angry and wanted to find a reason to dismiss him.
But Uesugi Toru's calm gaze made him feel an inexplicable pressure. That look seemed to say, "I'm just following the rules; please follow them too."
In Konoha, things written into the regulations could not be openly defied.
Irritated, Suzuki reluctantly pulled Uesugi Toru's scroll tube out of the wooden box.
"Fine, fine, what a troublesome brat," he muttered, popping off the cap and pulling out the scroll inside.
He wanted to see just what kind of "disruptive" thing a twelve-year-old Genin could come up with.
The scroll slowly unfurled.
There were no improved hand signs or new Ninjutsu concepts as he had expected.
What met Suzuki's eyes was a title where he recognized the words but completely failed to understand the meaning.
"on the functional relationship between fine control of chakra and mental energy fluctuations"
"Func... Function?" Suzuki muttered the unfamiliar word, his brow furrowed.
He suppressed his confusion and read on.
Then, his expression shifted rapidly from confusion to blankness, and finally to fury.
Underneath the title, it wasn't the Ninjutsu theory he was familiar with at all!
What the hell was this stuff?
Strange symbols like ghost script—long "∫" symbols, twisted "∂" marks, and all sorts of messy lines and diagrams.
This... this was a Ninjutsu paper?
This was clearly just a madman's gibberish!
"You bastard!"
Suzuki slammed the table with a "bang," stood up, and pointed at Uesugi Toru's nose, shouting, "Are you messing with me?! Do you think the Ninjutsu Research Department is a place for a brat like you to come and draw nonsense?"
His voice was so loud it immediately drew the attention of the other researchers in the hall.
Suzuki felt like he was losing face, his face flushing bright red. He grabbed that "heavenly book," rolled it up like it was trash, and turned toward the filing cabinets deep in the hall.
He didn't put the scroll back into the "New Applications" box. Instead, he walked to a filing cabinet in the furthest corner.
On that cabinet hung a wooden plaque with three words written on it:
"Discarded Area".
Piled here were all the applications over the years that had been judged worthless or fantastical. The items wouldn't be destroyed, but no one would ever look at them again; they would just sit here gathering dust until they rotted away.
"Click."
Suzuki pulled open a drawer already stuffed with yellowed scrolls. Without looking, he casually tossed Uesugi Toru's hard work inside, pressing it on top of a pile of scrap paper.
"Thud!"
He slammed the drawer shut as if venting his anger. Then he turned around and said coldly to Uesugi Toru, "Your application has been 'preliminarily evaluated' by me and judged 'completely worthless'. You can leave now. Don't come back and waste everyone's time!"
After saying that, he ignored Uesugi Toru, walked straight back to his seat, picked up his teacup, and took a large gulp of cold tea.
The entire hall returned to silence.
Uesugi Toru looked quietly at the filing cabinet in the "Discarded Area," his face still expressionless.
He wasn't angry, nor did he argue.
It was exactly as he had expected.
The first step of the plan is complete, Uesugi Toru noted silently in his heart.
He bowed slightly toward the front desk, then turned and calmly left the Ninjutsu Research Department.
It was as if his visit today had truly just been a formality.
Only after he left did the surrounding researchers begin to whisper.
"Just another brat here to cause trouble, right?"
"Senior Suzuki is something else too, getting that angry with a child."
"Who knows? Let's get back to work. The archives Lord Third is pushing for aren't finished yet..."
The commotion quickly subsided, and everything returned to its dull state.
No one knew what kind of thing they had just missed.
Time passed slowly.
The light in the archive room was dim, with only dust motes dancing in the beams.
In that iron cabinet labeled "Discarded Area," the scroll treated as trash lay quietly at the very top. Perhaps because of the force with which it was thrown, one corner of the scroll had slightly unfurled, revealing a small section of text.
It wasn't a formula like ghost script, but a conclusion written clearly in common script.
—"The power of Ninjutsu depends not only on the amount of Chakra but also on a quantifiable, innate'Spiritual Affinity'. This affinity determines the efficiency of energy conversion and is the essence that distinguishes a genius from the mediocre..."
Now, it lay quietly in the dark corner, treated as a pile of scrap paper.