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Maybe it was Orochimaru from my previous life that left such a deep impression on ?

As I mused to myself, Saitama and Shisui quickly made their way down the road.

"Saitama, that uncle just now was terrifying! The way he looked at —I didn't even dare to move," Shisui said, patting his chest with lingering fear.

"You don't recognize him? That was one of the Legendary Sannin, Orochimaru."

Saitama looked at Shisui and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Wow, so that was Lord Orochimaru? I've heard my father ntion him—he said Orochimaru is a top contender to beco the next Hokage! He's an incredible ninja!"

Shisui's eyes lit up in realization.

"Yeah, a Hokage candidate..."

Saitama's mouth twitched slightly.

What an era—such monstrous talent everywhere.

Thinking of this, Saitama recalled just how powerless he felt monts ago.

Strength... In chaotic tis like these, lacking power really does make you feel insecure.

Even if I have the strongest talent, I still have to train hard!

Glancing back, he saw Orochimaru had already vanished into the distance, and Konoha's streets were still bustling as usual.

"Let's go, Shisui!"

At this mont, Saitama was filled with renewed determination.

That afternoon, Saitama took Shisui to his favorite yakiniku spot in the village—a place known for its generous portions, affordable prices, and clean atmosphere, free of the usual rowdy crowd.

Fulfilling his promise to treat Shisui, the two ate heartily before parting ways at the Uchiha compound.

After all, one lived in the northern district, and the other in the south—they were practically on opposite ends.

Saitama had taken a liking to Shisui's swordsmanship. Before they split up, he asked if Shisui could check with his father about whether Saitama might be allowed to train alongside him.

Shisui readily agreed, but Saitama insisted he confirm it at ho. After all, sword techniques like that might be clan secrets or even passed down as heirlooms.

Saitama's "cheap" parents hadn't left him any scrolls on kenjutsu, which had always been a source of frustration for him.

Now that I know Shisui, I've got to learn a thing or two from him!

Carrying a freshly packed box of leftovers, Saitama strolled toward ho.

The food was for Granny KaKa. It was still early in the day, and she likely hadn't cooked anything yet.

"I'm back, Granny KaKa!"

As expected, she was sitting in her favorite chair in the courtyard.

"Oh, little Saitama. You're back."

"I brought you so yakiniku, from the usual place. I made sure there's no chili in the at."

"My, thank you. I also bought so salmon today—I'm planning to make sushi for you later."

Uchiha KaKa looked exasperated, but her smile softened her words as she took the food from his hands.

"Eat while it's hot, Granny."

"Saitama, co have so with . I can't finish all this alone."

She smiled kindly, the fine lines on her face folding gently.

"No, Granny, you eat first."

Watching her happily eat, Saitama tidied up a bit and headed upstairs.

"I'm going up now, Granny."

"Alright, go on."

After eating, Granny KaKa dozed off in her chair, the warm late August sun lulling her to sleep.

On the third floor, Saitama sat cross-legged on the tatami mat.

This place really is perfect for training. Quiet, undisturbed.

By now, the fullness from lunch had faded, and he felt comfortable enough to concentrate.

Focusing inward, he could tell that thanks to his deliberate chakra exercises, both the quantity and capacity of chakra in his body had increased.

Truly, this is the strongest talent.

Now that he had chakra, the next step was to master hand seals.

With a clear goal in mind, Saitama thodically pulled out a scroll from the side.

It was a hand seal reference scroll—one of the few useful things his "discount parents" had left behind. It also included notes about how to connect seals smoothly and quickly, even offering tips on minimizing movent to conserve energy during battle.

Saitama had read this scroll many tis but had never formally practiced it.

No need to rush—I'm still young. Overtraining could hurt my undeveloped fingers.

Once I enter the Academy, I'll be able to dive deeper into this.

Spreading out the scroll, he began matching the diagrams with the mories in his mind.

One seal per second. Then two seals per second. He was slowly getting used to the flow.

Of course, this was only his practice speed. In actual combat, he would need to be faster—but also more precise.

Not all ninjutsu require a full sequence of seals, either.

After a while, once he was sure he had morized the basic hand seal patterns, Saitama stopped and resud chakra refining, sitting cross-legged in quiet ditation.

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