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His swordsmanship wasn't refined—because he'd never formally studied it. What he relied on were the most basic cuts, thrusts, and slashes.
But Ye Dou had come to a realization: as the wielder of the Gravity Fruit, he didn't need elegant swordplay. Simplicity and raw power suited him best.
With one decisive strike, he could overwhelm opponents—human, object, or jutsu—without the need for elaborate sword techniques. This was his philosophy.
He thought of Fujitora from the world of One Piece, and his fearsome technique, Gravity Blade: Tiger. That style, too, was straightforward—no theatrics, just overwhelming might. If something blocked the way, you cut it down. If it stood back up, you cut again.
From that perspective, flashy sword styles were ill-suited for a Gravity Fruit user. What truly matched the immense pressure and force of gravity was direct confrontation—cutting down everything in one blow.
This is why, even two years ago, Ye Dou had chosen to abandon the more decorative Rokushiki variants used by CP9 agents like Rob Lucci—such as combining Geppo (Moonwalk) with Soru (Shave). Instead, he focused on integrating the basics with gravity, aiming to create a new kind of pure physical power.
Take Soru, for example. At its core, it involves stepping at high speed to create explosive acceleration. Now, Ye Dou uses his Gravity Fruit ability to alter his personal gravitational field at the moment of launch, increasing the recoil force and dramatically boosting his speed.
How fast is he?
Put simply, even Ye Dou himself often can't stop in time. The speed has reached such extremes that just the kinetic energy from his gravity-enhanced Soru can cause him to smash through trees without effort.
After achieving success with Soru, he applied the same principle to Rankyaku (Tempest Kick), Tekkai (Iron Body), and Shigan (Finger Gun). The results were incredible. For instance, his vacuum blades from Rankyaku cut faster and sharper than standard versions—capable of slicing cleanly through boulders.
These results only deepened Ye Dou's conviction to follow the path of overwhelming force.
He believed this path would allow him to ascend to the top of the shinobi world—and live without restraint.
Over the years, his chakra reserves had also grown substantially through continuous effort.
Aside from Uzumaki Naruto, who possessed the Uzumaki Clan's abnormal vitality and was host to Kurama, Ye Dou believed no other Konoha shinobi matched his physical resilience and cellular activity.
His chakra flow was astonishing—even without a tailed beast. Among his generation, no peer could compare. Possibly the only one who might one day rival him was Uchiha Sasuke, heir to Indra's chakra.
Chakra, by its nature, was mysterious. It didn't originate from the shinobi world, but from the alien Ōtsutsuki Clan. It could be refined from both physical energy and spiritual power.
This is why the Uchiha clan's Sharingan, tied deeply to emotional trauma and mental focus, continued to evolve—producing immense pupil power. But even Uchiha Shisui, famed for his Genjutsu prowess, lacked the chakra capacity to sustain a full-body Susano'o. His Mangekyō Sharingan simply didn't contain enough spiritual energy.
"Does my current chakra rival a jōnin's?" Ye Dou asked himself.
He couldn't be sure—even after eliminating multiple Root ANBU members.
After all, the major hidden villages lacked precise standards for jōnin classification. Take Hatake Kakashi—he became a jōnin during the Third Shinobi War, yet his chakra reserves were low, capable of using just a few Chidori.
Then look at Uchiha Itachi. Though only a year younger than Kakashi at promotion, at 13 he could unleash Fire Style, Tsukuyomi, and Amaterasu in succession without collapsing.
From this comparison, Ye Dou reasoned:
Kakashi's jōnin strength was likely the minimum threshold. His chakra wasn't vast, but he had mastered an elite technique.
"If Kakashi is the baseline," Ye Dou mused, "then I've already exceeded that level. With the uniqueness of my gravity-based kekkei genkai, my raw combat ability should surpass his—though I may still fall short of Uchiha Itachi."
At the thought of Itachi, Ye Dou's brow furrowed.
For someone like him, the Sharingan's heightened visual perception and Genjutsu prowess were natural enemies.
Not only could Itachi predict his movements with terrifying precision, but worse, his Genjutsu was nearly unavoidable.
Observation Haki...
His train of thought shifted. He raised his blade, and the steel gleamed as Armament Haki coated it—jet black, hard and gleaming like obsidian.
With a single swing, the training log split in half—cleaved like jelly. It was as effortless as slicing paper.
But Ye Dou didn't look satisfied.
Despite years of effort and grueling self-training, he had yet to awaken Observation Haki. Only Armament had manifested—yet it was powerful enough to surprise even him.
"Is it a lack of combat experience?" he wondered.
At higher levels, Observation Haki could let one perceive a sliver of the future. This ability was legendary—but not entirely foreign. Even in the shinobi world, similar feats existed.
For example, during Minato Namikaze's battle with Obito, his mastery of Flying Thunder God and keen instinct allowed him to predict Obito's moves and strike with flawless timing.
From this, Ye Dou concluded: perhaps Observation Haki required real combat to nurture. Unlike Armament, which could be forged through hellish training and chakra augmentation, Observation needed instinct honed by battle.
"But who should I fight?" he asked himself.
Uchiha Sasuke? He wasn't strong enough. Even with gravity restraints, Ye Dou could easily overpower him.
Might Guy? Now that was a worthy choice. Guy's sparring had helped Ye Dou develop immensely. But Guy was now a jōnin instructor, busy with missions and teaching.
Rustle...
"Ye Dou, someone's coming," the mongoose on the tree suddenly alerted him.
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