For the next half month, Tamura Hao did not go out to train at all.
He even took a two-week leave from the Ninja Academy, staying home to write manuscripts, train chakra control, and practice monstrous strength techniques.
Half a month passed in the blink of an eye.
After using the Transformation Technique to deliver his finished manuscripts to the publishing house—arranging for scheduled printing and sales—Tamura Hao returned home to prepare for today's battle.
First, he donned an inner armor suit that had cost one hundred million ryō to forge.
The core was a mesh undersuit made from a special alloy. There were bracers and greaves on his forearms and calves, reinforced plates on his chest and back, and shoulder guards over both shoulders.
According to the craftsman, the full set weighed less than ten jin, yet possessed both high hardness and resilience—enough to withstand C-rank ninjutsu, while its flexibility could partially absorb impact.
Next came a fitted leather outfit, supposedly crafted from the hide of a special ninja beast.
It offered decent resistance to elemental techniques—at the very least, he wouldn't have to worry about a Fire Release leaving him naked in public.
"Kind of gives off a young Sasuke vibe,"
Tamura Hao muttered at his reflection.
"Too bad I'm not as handsome."
He was especially satisfied with his boots.
He truly couldn't adapt to open-toed ninja sandals.
Didn't it hurt kicking people with exposed toes?
What if a toenail flipped up?
That would be agony.
So he replaced them with fully enclosed leather boots, reinforcing the toes and heels with the same alloy used in his armor—purely to make kicking people more painful.
After moving his limbs around, Tamura Hao nodded in satisfaction.
He picked up the pair of blades resting on the rack and sealed them into the left and right armguards, each sealing array marked with a single character:
"Meow."
Yes—these armguards were also ninja tools.
They could store sealed items, much like the wristguards used by Sasuke Uchiha and Itachi Uchiha during their final battle.
Fully prepared, Tamura Hao finally left for the Ninja Academy.
His arrival drew little reaction from his classmates.
Even his unusual attire earned only a few extra glances—no comments, no questions.
Tamura Hao had always kept a low profile in class.
No close friends.
No standout presence.
Perfectly ordinary.
Before long, the instructor arrived, gave a speech, and began reading from a list—assigning teams.
Each class was structured to form three-man squads.
Unfortunately, this class had lost two students the previous year.
A fight over a romantic dispute had ended with one student blinding the other.
Both were expelled.
The blinded one could never become a ninja.
What a disturbingly early-maturing world.
This left one extra student.
Such cases had three options:
Join another squad
Be assigned solo
Or be paired with another short-handed class
Tamura Hao was that leftover student.
And his outcome had already been arranged—
Solo assignment.
A benefit secured long ago through careful planning.
After all other jōnin arrived and led their teams away, a young man entered the classroom, stopping before the lone remaining student.
"Tamura Hao?"
"Yes, Sensei."
Tamura Hao stood and bowed respectfully.
Only then did he carefully observe the man.
Half-white, half-green flowing hair.
From that alone, Tamura Hao made an educated guess.
This should be the previous generation's Eight-Tails jinchūriki candidate—and Killer B's former teacher.
Of course, he wasn't a jinchūriki yet.
Killer B might not even have been born.
The man was also observing Tamura Hao.
The boy's calm demeanor left a good impression.
"Sit down. Let's talk."
His tone was gentle.
He sat down at the desk in front of Tamura Hao.
"My name is Fukuroi."
"I'm a jōnin of Kumogakure. I specialize in Lightning Release ninjutsu, Lightning Release taijutsu… and Lightning Release kenjutsu."
As he introduced himself, Fukuroi's curiosity grew.
Half a month ago, a direct order from the Third Raikage had arrived—forcing him to abandon his assigned mission and take on a team.
A team consisting of only one child.
Soon after, his cousin A personally warned him to take special care of this boy.
No explanations were given.
But that alone told Fukuroi one thing:
This child was anything but ordinary.
After discreet inquiries, he learned the truth.
Tamura Hao had uncovered a spy.
That spy had stolen ten billion ryō, funds meant for purchasing supplies from the Land of Iron.
Tamura Hao had recovered the hidden money and turned it over to the Raikage—saving the village from catastrophic loss.
A hero of the village.
And finding both the spy and the hidden funds was proof of real ability.
"Sensei Fukuroi," Tamura Hao said earnestly.
"My name is Tamura Hao. You can call me Xiao Hao."
"I specialize in taijutsu and kenjutsu."
"I have a single Lightning chakra nature."
"My chakra reserves are limited, and this is a long-term weakness."
"I hope you can guide me in this regard."
He explained everything in detail—including his chakra thread training.
After two weeks of focused practice, he could now maintain six chakra threads, extending them up to three meters, with flexible control.
That alone represented a massive leap in chakra precision.
"You've reached that level already?"
Fukuroi was genuinely shocked.
Ordinarily, academy graduates mastering tree-walking and water-walking was already impressive.
School emphasized theory far more than practical mastery.
Few students focused on advanced control techniques—let alone chakra threads.
That skill was primarily associated with Sunagakure puppet masters.
Kumogakure ninja rarely trained it.
Yet chakra threads were already considered a form of chakra shape transformation.
Successfully mastering them meant chakra control at at least chūnin level.
More than that—
Tamura Hao had already begun experimenting with Lightning nature transformation.
Crude and inefficient, lacking proper instruction—but undeniably close to entry-level success.
A ten-year-old reaching this stage was astonishing.
"My chakra talent is average," Tamura Hao said with a trace of helplessness.
"I won't get far relying on reserves alone."
"So I can only work harder on control—using what little chakra I have more efficiently."
He hated this bloodline-obsessed world.
Parents determined children's ceilings.
Breakthroughs through pure effort were almost impossible.
Those legendary "grinders" of Konoha weren't just hardworking—their bodies themselves were exceptional.
Tamura Hao had tried that path once.
His muscles had nearly broken down.
Even after reducing training intensity, he still had to pay medical ninja daily to heal microdamage, supplementing with rare medicine to avoid permanent injury.
The cost had been enormous.
He truly couldn't imagine the recovery power of those monsters.
Sometimes he even suspected they had distant Senju lineage, carrying fragments of the Sage Body.
That was why, for years, he had focused on chakra control instead.
And it had paid off.
"Your approach is correct," Fukuroi said seriously.
"Increasing chakra quantity depends heavily on talent."
"Forcing extraction beyond limits only damages the body."
"There's no reliable solution at present."
"Focusing on chakra control is the optimal path."
Even in Kumogakure, there were no good methods for solving chakra reserve limitations.
There were rumors of secret experiments involving Eight-Tails flesh—
But none had succeeded.
No new Gold and Silver Brothers had ever appeared.