The battle just now had truly opened their eyes.
A re student from the Ninja Academy had fought a chūnin for an extended ti—without falling behind. At monts, he had even put the chūnin on the defensive.
Even if the chūnin had been holding back, not using his full strength, the feat was still remarkable.
Shisui sheathed his short blade and slung it over his back. Then, bowing respectfully to the chūnin, he stepped forward. The two ford the seal of reconciliation—the customary sign of respect after a spar.
"Happy graduation, kid!" the chūnin said with a relaxed grin, waving at Shisui.
This Uchiha child had talent—real talent. At this age, with that kind of speed and technique? He was no ordinary student.
"Next up—Uchiha Saitama," called out the proctor.
Shisui offered an encouraging smile toward the next student. Saitama, standing to the side, sighed and gave a helpless shake of his head before stepping forward. He glanced toward his assigned chūnin opponent and gave a respectful nod.
From his earlier observations, Saitama guessed that this chūnin specialized in ninjutsu. He'd have to keep that in mind.
The chūnin nodded back, beckoning with one hand.
Let's begin.
"Begin the match!" the proctor's voice echoed across the training field.
Both fighters imdiately took their stances.
The chūnin noticed the short sword strapped to Saitama's back and, in response, pulled a kunai from his pouch.
Without hesitation, Saitama moved first.
He preferred to control the tempo of a fight.
"Hah!"
His first slash missed—the chūnin stepped aside smoothly, avoiding the blade with minimal effort.
"Clang!"
Their weapons clashed.
As Saitama recovered, the chūnin countered with a quick strike aid straight for his face.
Saitama reacted in ti, blocking with his short sword. Sparks flew as tal ground against tal.
"Boom!"
They clashed again—then both leapt back at the sa ti.
"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"
"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"
The sa jutsu—launched simultaneously.
Gasps ca from the watching students. No one had expected such perfect timing between them.
Both ninja stabbed their weapons into the ground to stabilize themselves mid-landing, hands flying through seals.
"Boom!"
Twin fireballs collided in midair, exploding with a roar. Flas burst outward, heat waves rippling through the training grounds.
Saitama flipped through the smoke, dodging the residual fire. He tightened his grip on his sword and landed lightly, scanning for his opponent.
Not far away, the chūnin had also avoided the blaze—but he was frowning.
His fireball... collapsed first.
He had seen it clearly.
A student's jutsu outpowered mine?
Impossible.
But there was no ti to dwell.
The clash resud.
Kunai t short sword again and again. Sparks lit the air with every strike. Saitama's excitent grew—this kind of battle, raw and fast-paced, set his blood on fire.
He licked his lips unconsciously, eyes narrowing with focus. There was a sharp edge to his gaze now—a spark of battle intent that made so of the onlookers shiver.
The chūnin noticed it, too.
They both charged forward, kicking up dust in their wake.
Saitama launched into a jump, bringing his sword down in a clean arc. Under the sunlight, the blade glead with deadly brilliance.
Putting his full strength behind it—
"Crash!"
The chūnin raised his kunai just in ti. It blocked the strike, but the force drove him to one knee. Dust scattered from the impact.
"Tch!" the chūnin grunted, irritated. With a surge of strength, he shoved upward, forcing Saitama back.
Saitama retreated, alert, watching for the counterattack.
He was strong and fast—but not overwhelmingly so. Against an experienced opponent like this, he lacked the edge in battle experience. His timing and footwork were still a little rough.
He raised his blade again.
Ninjutsu wouldn't win this fight.
Not unless he could catch the chūnin off guard.
This ti, the chūnin took the offensive.
The kunai in his hand moved like a viper, striking swiftly and unpredictably.
Saitama couldn't keep up.
Without activating his Sharingan, he could only react defensively, blocking strike after strike, giving ground inch by inch.
"Clang!"
He barely stopped a slash aid at his shoulder, blade vibrating from the force.
Above him, the chūnin looked down coldly, eyes locking onto Saitama's.
The tide had shifted.
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