"Step right up, don't miss out!"
On the bustling street, steel wires were wrapped around kunai and laid out to form a circular arena.
Nawaki stood at the edge, one hand holding a bronze gong and the other a wooden mallet, shouting while striking it loudly.
The noise quickly drew a crowd.
At the center stood Akira, planting a red flag into the ground.
Written clearly on it were four words:
Genin Battle Arena
"Genin battle?"
"What's that supposed to be?"
"Those eyes—he's from the Hyūga clan."
"What are they trying to do?"
People murmured in confusion.
Once enough spectators had gathered, Nawaki slammed the mallet down hard.
Clang!
The ringing sound crushed the chatter.
This was Akira's cue.
He cleared his throat.
"Esteemed villagers," Akira said solemnly, cupping his fists.
"Life is difficult, so the Hyūga must perform. Due to financial hardship, I have set up this arena."
He bowed slightly and continued:
"I hereby declare a wager. I will put up fifty thousand ryō.
Anyone who defeats me will receive the full reward."
"Entry fee: one thousand ryō per challenge.
Eligibility: Genin only."
This was Akira's solution to making money.
Not only did it earn cash—it earned experience.
Taking missions required the team leader's approval, and Tsunade clearly wasn't in the mood to take him out of the village right now.
Ninjas weren't allowed to run normal businesses either.
So—
Arena battles it was.
He was confident.
Among genin, very few could beat him.
Anyone who could probably didn't have time to bother with this.
As for chūnin—
He had self-awareness. He wasn't there yet.
Even if they gave more experience, he could only watch from afar.
"Is this for real?" someone asked, tempted.
Genin made up the bulk of Konoha's ninja force.
Many stayed stuck at this rank for years.
"Of course," Akira said calmly, nodding at Nawaki.
With a pained expression, Nawaki pulled out a stack of banknotes totaling fifty thousand ryō and held them up.
Who would've thought?
The boss was making money—
And the underling had to front the capital.
This was all of Nawaki's allowance.
Still, remembering Akira's undefeated record, he decided to believe.
Definitely not because of the fifty–fifty profit split.
Definitely not.
Fifty thousand ryō was a fortune for genin.
Soon, someone hopped over the wire.
A young man stared at Akira eagerly.
Akira extended one hand slightly, assuming the posture of a seasoned expert.
The challenger reached toward his ninja pouch—
"Hold on," Akira said suddenly.
The young man paused and raised an eyebrow.
"What? Afraid?"
Akira shook his head calmly.
"Challenges have rules. To avoid serious injuries, ninjutsu and ninja tools are forbidden.
Taijutsu only."
The challenger frowned and sized Akira up.
Competing in taijutsu against a Hyūga?
Everyone knew the Hyūga specialized in it.
Before the man could object, Akira added:
"And did you really think fifty thousand ryō would be easy to win?"
That… made sense.
If it were that simple, it'd be free money—and nobody was that stupid.
Besides, Akira looked like a freshly graduated genin. His taijutsu couldn't be that terrifying.
The challenger withdrew his hand from the pouch and lunged forward.
"Wait," Akira said again, raising a hand.
The man skidded to a stop, nearly crashing into him.
"What now?!" he snapped.
Akira rolled his Byakugan dramatically.
"You haven't paid."
"If you win, you don't get paid without paying first."
The challenger forced an awkward laugh.
Nawaki stepped forward and held out his hand.
"Payment."
With a sigh, the man pulled out a thousand-ryō note and placed it in Akira's palm.
Only after Nawaki stepped back did the challenger raise his fists again—
"WAIT!!" Akira shouted once more.
"ARE YOU DONE?!" the man roared.
Too late.
A palm struck his chest.
His eyes bulged.
Before he could unleash a stream of colorful profanity—
"Eight Trigrams: Mountain-Shattering Palm!"
BOOM!
The challenger flew backward, crashed beyond the wire, rolled once—
And passed out cold.
Akira nodded in satisfaction as a notification flashed.
[EXP +325]
Stronger than the mountain bandits.
Two more like this and he'd level up.
Nawaki slapped his forehead.
The crowd let out collective groans.
This was so Akira.
"Next," Akira said calmly.
Seeing the hesitation—and the disgusted looks—he justified himself righteously:
"This is called tactical deception. Haven't you heard of it?
What ninja fights fair?"
"If you fight fair, can you even call yourself a ninja?"
Faced with his complete lack of shame—
No one could find the words to argue back.
Annoyingly, he wasn't entirely wrong.
At that moment, someone vaulted over the wire and landed in front of Akira.
"You're just as shameless as ever," the newcomer snarled.
He wore blue clothing emblazoned with a fan-shaped flame crest.
"An Uchiha."
"It's an Uchiha!"
"This'll be good."
Akira sighed and waved him off.
"Go play somewhere else, kid."
"BASTARD!!"
The man exploded in rage.
Uchiha Sōsuke slammed a thousand-ryō note at Nawaki and charged straight at Akira.
Nawaki shook his head and bent down to pick up the money.
He knew this guy.
Akira's perennial second place.
Always chasing him. Always losing.
Even after becoming a ninja, he hadn't given up that dream.
Dreams were free, after all.
Sōsuke rushed in—
And flew back out just as fast.
He landed neatly at Nawaki's feet and fell asleep peacefully.
Akira frowned at the tiny amount of experience gained.
"Tch. Still no growth after all this time."
Sōsuke had been farmed dry long ago.
Without a qualitative improvement, he'd never give full EXP again.
"Next."
This time, the crowd hesitated.
One experienced genin.
One Uchiha.
Both knocked out clean.
Their own sleep suddenly seemed pretty good.
Just as doubt spread—
Another figure hopped lightly over the wire and stopped in front of Akira.
"I'll give it a try."
The newcomer's eyes were just as pale as Akira's.
Byakugan.
Akira's lips curled upward.
"Hyūga Hizashi," he said lightly.
"You've really got nothing better to do, huh?"